Born in Frustration

~Chapter Thirteen: A Bit of Wondering, A Bit of Fun~

Harry woke the next morning. Foggy pictures of blonde hair, pale skin, red lips and white teeth still plaguing his mind. Moaning softly, he stretched. His abused body still sore and achy as he sat up, putting on his glasses. Looking at the desk beside his bed, he took the two potions required, fulfilling his silent promise.

At the door, once again, was a tray of food. Smiling at the thought that Draco really did have the Dursleys whipped, Harry practically skipped to the door and plucked up the tray. Deciding to eat under the covers, he carefully placed the tray on the bed, cuddling into the blankets as he picked up the fork and tucked into a lovely and very hearty breakfast.

Snuggling down, he again resolved not to read too much into the previous days unexpected events. No matter how wonderful the hug, the peck on the cheek, the oh-so-soft and gentle kiss on his lips had been, he would not make them out to be more than they were; signs of friendship. Harry sighed, this would be tough. But he was determined not to overanalyse it – maybe Draco’s family was more touchy-feely then he previously supposed.

Smirking slightly at his memories of Lucius Malfoy, he discounted that thought. The elder Malfoy was about as touchy-feely as Severus Snape. Harry quickly corrected himself though, he knew little of Draco’s home life and it was not his place to make broad assumptions about people. Grimacing, he realised that that was exactly what he had been doing all along, he had made assumptions about Draco based on the things he had been told about Slytherin house. Thinking back on it now, Harry wondered if he had made a mistake in asking the sorting hat to not place him in Slytherin.

While he dearly loved his friends and he liked most of his housemates, he felt so ill-prepared for what was expected of him. He found himself often wondering if Slytherin would have made him stronger. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought to himself a little wistfully. After all, he could not imagine Draco putting up with the crap Harry allowed himself to be subjected to. In just two short days, Draco Malfoy had managed something that Harry had never been able to…

~~~~~~~~

Draco was up and dressed in record time, anxious to see Harry. He packed his school books and supplies into his bag as he hurriedly prepared to leave. He told himself his unseemly haste was merely to make sure the Dursleys had followed his instructions, though his niggling inner voice knew otherwise.

Draco Apparated into Harry’s room, startling the other boy who was still in bed, eating his breakfast…

“Draco!”

The tall blonde smiled broadly. “Potter,” he said walking toward the bed. Plucking some toast off the tray in Harry’s lap, Draco sat on the edge next to him. “Sleep well?” he asked.

“Um… yeah, thanks,” Harry replied, shifting the tray on his lap, “did you eat?” Draco shook his head. “I’m done if you want…”

Draco smiled again, taking the tray from Harry, intent on finishing the eggs, bacon and sausages. “You’re looking much better, Harry,” he said between mouthfuls, eyeing Harry carefully. “Your colour is back and your eyes…” Draco paused, ‘Get a grip you ponce.’ – “your eyes are – um – brighter, more alert,” he covered quickly.

Harry’s cheeks pinked slightly. ‘Is Malfoy blushing? Maybe he…’ He looked at the blonde curiously. “Yeah, I feel loads better.”

The two boys sat, in uncomfortable silence, for a few minutes, before Harry got out of bed. “I’ll – ah – just get cleaned up, and then we can...” ‘Snog senseless,’ he almost said, but stopped himself just in time, ‘fuck Harry…’

“Sure,” Draco thankfully interrupted, “we need to apply your salve when you get back, so leave off your shirt.” Draco felt the heat rising on his face. ‘Mmm, shirtless Harry,’ his mind moaned. ‘Fuck, Draco…’

Harry blushed red and he knew it. He practically ran from the room. Draco watched the reaction of the fleeing boy. ‘Wait a minute,’ he thought suspiciously, ‘Potter was blushing, and he seemed excited, even. Maybe… maybe…’

Deciding this all needed more investigation, Draco finished up the remains of the breakfast tray. Potter was definitely nervous, but not in a bad way, it was a good, almost flustered sort of anxiousness. The kind of feeling you get on a first date when you realize you like your date THAT sort of way. This called for subtlety. Potter obviously didn’t have much experience in the romance department, so, Draco would have to take the lead and see where this would go. He could test the waters and see what happened. He wouldn’t push, but he could pull, just a bit.

Draco was still thinking about how to proceed, when Harry came back in the room, baggy jeans practically falling off his hips and his oversized sweatshirt in his hands. Draco smirked at the picture presented; this skinny boy in oversized clothes that made him look far younger then he was. It was a bit sexy, in an odd sort of way.

“Don’t you have clothes that fit, Potter?”

Harry looked away embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders in a non-committal answer.

“Never mind, you know the routine,” Draco said, as he motioned toward the bed. He had two jars of cream in his hands, one of which he handed to Harry as the smaller boy. “These look better,” Draco said, pointing to the fading marks on Harry’s front. “I don’t think you’ll need to apply the salve to your chest after today.” Harry grinned at that. “Your back, however,” Draco continued, “will need a bit more. A few days at the most I think.”

They sat on the bed, Harry cross legged, his back to Draco, and began applying the balm to Harry’s bruises and cuts. Draco noticed that Harry was trembling a bit, but leaning into his touches. Pleased that he might be right about the nervous display earlier, Draco felt confident that he could go ahead with his tentative plans.

When Draco had finished, he tossed Harry his shirt. “Let’s go play with the fat-man,” he said a gleam in his eye. Harry looked wary, but he reluctantly let Draco lead him from the room.

The Dursleys were all seated in the parlour. Dudley’s eyes were glued to the telly, stuffing his face, yet again. Vernon was sitting in an overstuffed chair, reading the paper, while Petunia prattled on about nonsense.

Draco looked back at Harry, grinning madly.

“Good morning,” he said brightly, stepping into the room.

The Dursleys bristled all at once. Draco twirled Harry in front of him, positioning the boy against his chest, his arms loosely around Harry’s waist, while his head rested against the side of Harry’s head. He imagined they presented a very good picture of a happy couple.

Vernon grimaced, but surprisingly held his tongue. Draco was entirely unsatisfied with this reaction. So, he snuggled Harry closer to him, forcing Harry to lean back into Draco’s embrace, his head resting gently on Draco’s shoulder. Harry felt his heart beating faster. Thankful, for once, that Dudley’s cast off clothes were so very large.

“Lovely day isn’t it?” Draco asked sweetly. “Sunday’s are such a relaxing sort of day, don’t you think?”

None of the Dursleys offered an answer, choosing instead to look annoyed, offended, and in Dudley’s case, petrified.

“How very rude your family is, Harry,” Draco stated. “No manners at all. It’s a wonder that you’re so very polite, darling, if these are your examples; imagine not making the effort to greet a guest in your home. How truly appalling!” Draco ended with a flourish.

Vernon’s face grew a deeper shade of puce with every word Draco spoke. Harry tilted his head side-ways to look into Draco’s eyes. He could see the mischief glimmering in the blue-grey depths. Knowing he would not be able to stop his new friend, Harry inwardly winced, while keeping a neutral expression on his face – though he was more then sure his cheeks were pinking.

“Guest?” Vernon snarled. “Guests do not threaten their hosts, nor make unreasonable demands…”

Draco quirked his eyebrow as Vernon trailed off and Harry couldn’t help but notice how utterly sexy he was when he did that. “Unreasonable? Are you calling me unreasonable, fat-man?” Draco moved from behind Harry, grabbing his hand as he moved toward the sofa, and plopped down beside Dudley, winking and pulling Harry onto his lap. Vernon bristled again.

“Hey,” Draco poked Dudley’s shoulder, “fat-boy, do you think I’m being unreasonable?” he asked, leaning in toward Harry’s cousin.

Dudley hiccoughed and fell off the couch. Harry had to stifle his giggles as the rotund boy lurched his great girth toward his mother. Petunia reached out and pulled the behemoth onto her lap. Harry was fairly certain that this action would result in his aunt suffering a serious injury, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate it if he said so.

Draco, meanwhile, chuckled, snuggling Harry closer to his own body. As the damage had already been done, Harry figured he may as well play along with the other boy, so he shifted comfortably in strong arms, nuzzling his head into the pale curve of Draco’s neck. Draco apparently liked cuddling, because he smiled down at Harry warmly, winking again.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Draco asked suddenly, kissing Harry’s forehead softly. “Shall we have a real Muggle family day and play board games or perhaps canasta?”

Dudley and Petunia gasped, staring horrified at Vernon. Surely, Vernon would set the blonde intruder to rights. Vernon gaped. “Certainly NOT!” he snarled loudly. “My family will not associate with the likes of you.”

“Now, now, fat-man, that’s just not nice.” Draco’s eyes darkened.

“DON’T YOU FAT-MAN ME, YOU FILTHY SCUM!” Vernon bellowed, finally snapping under the blonde’s mocking ‘conversation’, “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, BARGING INTO MY HOME WITH YOUR – YOUR WEIRDNESS!” Vernon screamed, forgetting, in his rage, who exactly he was dealing with, “I KNEW WE SHOULD HAVE TURNED THAT FREAK OUT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE,” he continued yelling, pointing his beefy finger at Harry. “THEN WE WOULDN’T HAVE THE LIKES OF YOU AND ALL YOUR FREAKY FRIENDS DARKENING OUR DOOR!”

Draco had slipped his wand out of his sleeve during Vernon’s tirade and as soon as he had tired of listening to the vitriol, he waved it at the raging man and his voice stopped. Vernon’s mouth kept moving, but no sound came out and as soon as he realized this – although it did take him a few moments – he was panic stricken. He clutched at his throat, shooting fearful looks at Draco as he cowered deeper into the chair.

Wanting to calm Draco before he performed some sort of illegal curse on his uncle, Harry did the only thing he could think of… He nuzzled closer, tentatively pressing his lips to Draco’s throat. Draco sighed, “Don’t worry, Harry, I promise not to hurt the fat bastard,” he said gently, kissing Harry’s nose. Harry smiled happily; he was rather enjoying all this silly kissing, even if it was just for show.

Draco turned his attention back to Vernon, “I did tell you not to use that word,” he admonished. “I am beginning to think that you just might be the dumbest Muggle I’ve ever encountered. It’s a good thing Harry here,” Draco pressed the other boy closer, kissing his forehead again, “doesn’t want me to hurt you – though I really can’t think why, it could be so… entertaining – otherwise, fat-man, you would be screaming in pain right now.” Draco flicked his wand again and a horror filled screech escaped from Vernon.

“And here I thought we could have a nice pleasant day,” Draco whined falsely, “and now you’ve gone and ruined it, fat-man. Really, you are the rudest thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of running across.” Draco sighed again. He gently nudged Harry and the two boys stood up. “Ah, well, Harry and I shall go back to his room.” Draco let a look of disappointment cross his angelic face.

Harry had to admit, Draco really was a good actor. He also had to admit, that he was enjoying every uncomfortable squirm his family made. He was really enjoying his uncle’s frightened demeanour, now that he had his voice back. Draco really was very good at all this stuff.

“We do have some school work to do,” Draco continued. He turned toward Petunia and Dudley. “Remember, lunch auntie,” he reminded her sweetly. Harry was sure his aunt was choking on the words. Taking Harry’s hand in his, the two boys left the shocked Dursleys, hand in hand.