Hard Time

Chapter Seventeen: An Attempt to Communicate

After visiting with Hermione, Harry made a few other necessary stops, including the bank to take care of financial matters, and Knockturn Alley to pick up a new owl. He chose a black one this time. It didn't seem right to try and match Hedwig, so he looked for precisely the opposite: small, fast and dark, with great staring yellow eyes. It matched his demeanour these days, at any rate. A few reporters for The Daily Prophet caught sight of him and tried to follow, but he managed to lose them with a few choice Apparations. He also thought he caught sight of Neville on his way to some errand, but ducked behind a building before his old classmate could see him. He wasn't ready to talk to anybody from Hogwarts just yet.

It was late afternoon by the time Harry made it back to the Manor, the new owl, Soot (because it was the colour of very dark soot), perched on his shoulder. He had just finished setting up the owl in the tower of the Manor and was headed towards the kitchen when he found Draco in the hallway, looking angry.

"And just where have you been all day?" Draco asked. The tone was back to how he'd addressed Harry at Hogwarts, spiteful and haughty, but his posture didn't match his tone. His back was hunched, as if expecting a blow, and he paced as if nervous.

Harry looked at him, baffled. "I had to run some errands. You didn't seem particularly sociable this morning." What had he done now? Whatever was running through Draco's head?

"Off boffing your Weasleyette? Begging her to take you back?" Draco took a step closer, heated gaze on Harry, a fire in him that was like nothing Harry had seen before.

Harry took a step back. "No. I told you--she broke up with me. Said she felt like . . ." He paused, wondering if it was wise to give Draco fuel to run with. "Like she was kissing her brother." Let him ponder that a bit.

"Now that's a disgusting thought. Perhaps that's why there are so many of them in the Wizarding World," Draco retorted.

He's just trying to get a rise out me, Harry thought, clenching his jaw. Ignore it. Draco still had his full gift for insult.

"Not Ginny, then? Perhaps then the filthy Mudblood was busy sucking you off. You'd like that, I bet. She's certainly got a mouth on her." Draco was still advancing on Harry, and Harry was running out of room to retreat. He glared at Draco.

"Shut it, Draco. What is wrong with you? I just had a few errands. That's all."

"You were gone all bloody day! What am I supposed to do around here, wait like a good little boy for his mum?" Draco was shouting now, eyes cold grey steel, strands of white blond hair falling in his face. He was dressed rather nice actually, Harry had time to notice. A soft blue shirt that would have set off his eyes nicely--if Draco wasn't so enraged.

Harry wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Did this mean Draco had missed him? Or just that he'd been bored, or afraid? "I'm sorry . . ." he said uncertainly, trying to placate the young man.

Draco exhaled a breath in frustration. "What am I supposed to be doing here, Harry? This was your great plan, setting me up here, 'healing' me or whatever. What the bloody fuck do I do all day? So I've slept, and the injuries have healed. Now what?"

Harry tried to calm him down. "We'll figure that out--that was one of the reasons I went out today, to get some advice, some ideas. Would you return to Hogwarts if they let you? Finish your studies?"

"And become what? I was supposed to follow Father's legacy! Who would hire me now, Harry?" Draco sounded like he was near tears.

What could he possibly say that that? Harry was at a loss for words; he shook his head, raising his hands in a futile attempt to placate Draco. He'd needed to do those errands, but perhaps he should have tried to return earlier. Draco had obviously spent the day working himself into a state. "You could always become a teacher. You were always very good at Potions."

"Oh right! I'm sure the parents of all the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws would love that! Sure I'd be bloody popular!" Draco took hold of Harry's shirt and shoved him, enraged. "Here's the truth, Harry. I have nothing to look forward to. I am nothing! And your sorry little attempts to change that aren't going to fix a blood thing. I was better off dead!"

Harry stopped Draco's tirade by the first thing that came to mind. He pulled Draco forward by the waist and leaned in to kiss him, hard. He expected it to startle Draco, hopefully snap him out of whatever black mood he was in. What he didn't expect was for Draco to kiss him back, with a passion that made Harry's toes curl. A delicious heat flowed through him as the kiss deepened; he wasn't sure who opened their mouth first, but suddenly he was tasting Draco, tongues duelling, grip tightening on Draco's hip.

He'd never kissed anyone like this. It wasn't tentative and sweet; it was dirty and sexy and as the kiss lengthened, Harry found himself wanting to yank Draco's shirt off, pull down his trousers, and slam him up against the nearest wall . . . what in the bloody hell was he doing? Hadn't he just told Hermione he wasn't going to do anything like this for a while? Horrified, Harry broke off the kiss, letting Draco go, taking a step back. Both of them were panting. Harry looked at Draco helplessly. "I didn't mean to do that."

Draco had been staring at him earnestly, perhaps expecting Harry to kiss him again, expecting . . . something. The open vulnerability in his face closed upon hearing Harry's words, and somehow Harry knew he had said the wrong thing, though he had no idea what the right thing would have been. The haughty sneer returned. If Harry didn't know better, he would even say Draco was hurt. "Oh yes you did mean to do that. You've been meaning to do that since you saw me taking it up the arse in the cell, haven't you, Potter."

Harry flushed and looked away. He willed the erection in his jeans to go away, vanish. The anger in Draco's voice was what did it, made his prick shrivel and soften, made his throat hurt with raw emotion. He was mucking this all up royally.

A hand on Harry's chin forced him to look at Draco. "Well, go ahead! You practically own me now, don't you? Just push me right up against some wall and fuck me. I can be your little kept whore . . ." Draco was crying now, and Harry was panicking, unsure what to do, how to help him. It felt like his heart was breaking.

"I would never do that to you," Harry said softly, trying not to break down in tears himself, shoving down the thought that he'd just been imagining such a scenario. He took a step forward, determined not to let Draco run away again. "I can arrange for you to be transferred back to St. Mungo's if you prefer. I don't want to hurt you; I want to help you. I only want to help you."

Draco shook his head vehemently, and gave Harry a frightened look. "Don't send me there. They'll only send me back to Azkaban." He swallowed hard, taking hold of Harry's hand imploringly, sliding in close to him. The look on his face was all wrong; a seductive smile that Harry knew was false because he had seen the real thing last night. "Please. You can do anything you want to me. It's okay. Just don't send me back there."

Oh God; this was so not where Harry had intended to take things. He was tired, he was hurt, and he was completely fucking things up. He laid a hand on either side of Draco's cheek and looked into his eyes, feeling his own heart pounding. "Draco . . . you don't get it. It's not about what I want. It's about what you want. If you want to stay, then stay. I'm trying my best here--I don't bloody know what all I'm doing. I just wanted to provide someplace safe where you could get your head together, you know? But it's really up to you. You have to decide what side you want to be on."

Slowly, the panic in Draco's face began to subside, and Harry could see the vulnerability again, the pain. He let go Draco's face but kept a hand on Draco's shoulder, intent on holding him back if he tried to run again. "I don't understand you," Draco said in a tight, emotion-laden voice. "I don't understand why you want to help me."

Harry wasn't sure what the original reason had been, other than a will to do good. But he knew the reason now. And he knew that he wasn't anywhere near ready to reveal that reason with Draco. "I didn't mean to be gone all day. It just took time to do the things I needed to do." Hopefully that would serve as an apology, if his absence had upset Draco. But he still had questions of his own. "Why did you take my wand this morning? Why pilfer through my memories?"

Draco flushed with embarrassment. "I wanted to answer my questions. Why you were helping. What you thought about certain things."

"You could have just asked me, you know." Harry couldn't help the ire in his voice. After everything Snape had done, he really hated that spell. It didn't help that Draco must have learned it from a Death Eater. "Don't do it again."

That received a nod. And a sigh. "I just want to live a normal life," Draco whispered, dragging a hand through his hair.

Why did that make Harry want to kiss him again? "I can understand that. Believe me, I can." Things seemed to be finally settling down, so he dropped his hand from Draco's shoulder. Hermione was going to receive a lot of letters from him asking for advice, Harry thought.

"Where are you going now?" Draco was busy wiping at his eyes, regaining his composure. He still looked so vulnerable it made Harry ache.

"To the kitchen. Kreacher should be working on dinner soon, but he's only one elf, and this is a pretty big house, so I try to help him when I can. Would you like to help?" If Draco wanted things to do, there were plenty on Harry's list he could think of. They might not be things Draco enjoyed, however. The garden in particular was a mess.

Draco appeared to be actually considering it. With a slow nod, he stepped aside so that Harry could lead. "I might as well."

Harry could feel Draco's gaze on him as he began walking down the hallway, to the stairway heading down to the ground level with the living room, dining hall, and the great kitchen. He wasn't surprised when Draco spoke, "I have one more question."

"Yes?" Harry wasn't sure he wanted to hear what it was. He had the odd feeling that he already knew.

"Why did you kiss me just now? The truth, please."

A stab of fear went through Harry. It was becoming harder to hide the fact that Draco affected him, and not only physically. But what would Draco think if he knew that? "I kissed you because I knew it would shut you up. And because I wanted to kiss you." He felt the blush start in his cheeks and spread to the back of his neck. "I do want you. I just don't want you in the way that those bastards in Azkaban wanted you--not by force. And not against your will." There. He'd said it. Hermione would be proud.

"Interesting," was all Draco said. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But the little smile that stayed on Draco's face as they silently worked together cutting up vegetables on Kreacher's orders told him that perhaps it was a very good thing.

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TBC

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