Why Do You Love Me?
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
9,636
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
9,636
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Spontaneous Combustion
A/N: Many thanks to all the reviewers out there! I would like to dedicate this chapter to my wonderful beta, Steven! Thanks for all your great work!
Harry had nearly forgotten about the meeting with Draco that night. If he had not fallen asleep once again that night in the commons and woken up at nearly eleven thirty, he would have. As it was, Harry was stuck there; awaiting Draco’s return, because he partially feared what Draco would do if he ditched it.
Which was why he was nearly scared out of his pants when Draco popped up in the fireplace twenty minutes early.
Harry stared at him, shocked into stillness. Draco smiled at him and pulled his head out of the fireplace, disappearing. Minutes later, Draco popped into the room, dusting himself off as he seated himself. “Potter,” He greeted with an incline of his head.
Harry sat stiffly in his chair. His mouth was dry and his neck was sore from sleeping in an awkward position for two consecutive days.
“Are you okay?” Draco asked, cocking his head to the side as he looked over Harry calculatingly.
Harry glared. “Peachy,” he retorted through gritted teeth.
Draco shrugged. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get your britches in a twist. You just don’t look very good. You’re pretty pale.”
“I’m fine,” Harry countered, albeit a bit too quickly.
Draco stared at him knowingly, but didn’t say anything. After a long bout of awkward silence, Draco finally tore his gaze away, favoring to, instead, have a look around the room. The distaste was evident on his face. His lip curled slightly, and his brows bunched together in a most attractive manner as he looked the room up and down.
“These colors are ridiculous. Have you no fashion sense, Potter?”
Harry ignored the question. “You came here for a reason, Malfoy,” he stated, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and crossing his arms across his chest protectively. “Get on with it.”
Draco looked at Harry curiously. “Do you ever shut up?” he asked, shocking Harry for the second time that night.
“What do you mean?” Harry spluttered, springing from the armchair to glare down at Draco. Draco just smirked up at him.
“Well…perhaps that wasn’t exactly the right thing to say. What I meant to say was, don’t you ever just take comfort in the fact that you have company? You don’t always have to go about shooting off your mouth like that, you know. We don‘t even have to talk at all if you don‘t want. I believe I‘ll be just fine in the presence of your company, knowing that you‘re not off somewhere puking your guts out.”
Harry glowered and crossed his arms, but didn’t say anything, and after a while, Draco sighed as his facial features softened. “I’m sorry, Potter. Look, I’m just worried about you, all right? Everyone is.”
Harry glared at Draco, who was shifting rather uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t need you guys to be worried about me.” Harry bit out. Draco sighed.
“Harry, holding in all those emotions can’t be good for your health. I mean, you’ve already been in critical condition almost three times. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Draco had somehow managed to find a place kneeling on the floor between Harry’s knees, with his hands on Harry’s thighs. “Look at yourself, Potter, and tell me that nothing’s changed.”
Harry stared down at Draco and sighed. “Shut up, Malfoy. Just shut up!”
Standing, Harry pushed Draco away to sprawl on the floor and look up at Harry, hurt shining clearly in his eyes.
Harry shot Draco one final look, and began pacing. Eventually, he brought his thumb up to his mouth and began gnawing unconsciously on the nail. Draco watched suspiciously, as many emotions flitted across his face.
Suddenly, he turned towards Draco, face stony and cold. “I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need your help.” Harry said, eyes flashing angrily. His cheek twitched slightly as he clenched his teeth in order to keep his emotions in check. “I’m fine.”
Draco stood, eyes glistening and brows wrinkled in thought. “Harry, this isn’t you. You wouldn’t-”
Harry’s nostrils flared and his eyebrow twitched, eyes blazing. “Who are you to say who I am? You know absolutely nothing about me! Nothing!”
“Potter-”
“Don’t. Okay? I don’t need it.”
“Well, apparently you need something.” Draco cried out with a glare.
Harry’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, as silence stretched.
Draco sighed. “Potter, I’m leaving. I know you know that you need help, but apparently, I’m not the one who can give it to you.”
With that, Draco spun on his heel and made his way towards the fireplace. A reluctant look was shot towards Harry before his facial features went slack, and he threw the floo powder into the fireplace. A shout of his destination, which could hardly be heard over the roar of the freshly renewed fire, was the last thing Harry heard of him before he disappeared from sight.
Harry stared after Draco wistfully for a long time after he had gone.
…
…
…
Harry was late waking up that morning, and therefore, was nearly late for Potions.
When he got down for breakfast, the Gryffindor table was nearly empty. A scant few first years sat at one end, with most of the food piled onto their plates. Boys were wolfing down pancakes and bacon, while girls looked on in disgust. When Harry plopped himself down next to one of the first year boys, all movement stopped, and they all stared at him as if he were an exhibit on display.
Harry sighed and snatched a piece of toast from one of the boys while they were gaping. He nibbled on it for a few seconds, the crunching sound comforting in the silence as the first years looked on.
After a while, Harry sighed. “What the bloody hell do you want?” he growled out.
Girls shrieked giddily, and boys grinned from ear to ear, high-fiving each other over the table. Harry just sighed again, excusing himself quietly.
He snatched his book bag from the seat next to him, and quickly rushed to class. He barely got there in time, and Hermione was staring at him curiously as he took his seat next to her.
Madam Pomfrey entered the room behind Harry, and with a silent glare towards him, she began class.
Midway through, when the room was smelling something rancid and there was smoke galore floating about (which, according to the textbook, was the correct way to make the particular potion), Hermione prodded him in the side, nearly causing him to drop his handful of dried, crushed Wullyweed root. “Where were you this morning, Harry?” she hissed as she stirred their smoking potion.
Harry exhaled loudly, and finished sprinkling the root over their potion. “I slept late.” He said after a long pause. He offered no other explanation, and just as he thought Hermione might accept the negligible offering, she asked another question.
“Why?”
“I was tired,”
“Harry…” Hermione looked at him scoldingly. “I thought you were going to go to bed earlier last night. Haven’t you been complaining about being tired a lot lately? I mean, come on! Honestly, if you’re tired you should sleep! We haven’t even been here a whole week yet!”
Harry sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just…sometimes it’s hard to sleep.”
Hermione studied Harry for a long time. “Maybe you need to see Madam Pomfrey about this, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “No! I’m fine! Honestly.”
Hermione eyed Harry suspiciously. With a half-hearted smile, she nodded. “Okay, Harry.” Something in her eyes told Harry that she didn’t believe him.
…
…
…
Harry sighed and slouched in the chair he was seated in. “I shouldn’t be here. I really shouldn’t be here,” he groaned.
“Why ever not?”
Harry sighed and looked up at the beautiful Lady Elizabeth, who seemed to be towering over him from her position, hanging above the mantle of the fireplace.
“Er…I have an essay due in Defence class soon. I should really be getting it done. Free hours probably weren’t assigned so that we could goof off.”
Lady Elizabeth smiled. “You can do it in here,” she said, gesturing towards the table that was materializing itself in front of Harry as they spoke.
Harry stared down at the table, a disheartened frown on his lips. He had come here to talk to Lady Elizabeth, because quite honestly, there was no one else that he could talk to. However, that was much easier said than done.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Lady Elizabeth asked, concern worrying her features.
“No!” Harry exclaimed.
Lady Elizabeth looked at him grimly, eyebrows wrinkled in worry.
“Harry…” she trailed off, and Harry stared at her guardedly, expecting her to say exactly the same things as everyone else would say, had they known.
“What?” he snapped, clenching his fists, ready to spring from his seat if necessary.
“You can tell me,” she said, eyes softening. Harry blinked suspiciously.
“Huh?”
“I know something’s bothering you, and I want you to know that you can tell me. You can trust me, Harry. I promise.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just saying that.”
“On my portrait’s honor, I promise you, Harry, that you can trust me.” Lady Elizabeth said, wringing her hands, eyes pleading with him. “I would spontaneously combust before I told a soul what you’ve confided in me.”
Harry tilted his head and examined her. She may have been just a portrait, but for now, just a portrait may just help him out of the internal struggle he was currently having.
Long minutes later, Harry had come up with the conclusion that he could trust her. “Okay,” he agreed. “But you have to keep your promise, and I have to know that you‘re keeping your promise. Will you allow me to put a spell on you?” he asked, eyes shining meaningfully.
Lady Elizabeth smiled. “Of course,”
Harry nodded, eyebrows scrunched together as he wracked his brains for a spell that would cause her to spontaneously combust if she told anyone his secrets.
Slowly, a book materialized in front of Harry. It looked as though it had seen better days. The corners were worn thin, and the pages were thick and yellowed, and they crackled when Harry opened the thick cover, in awe.
The silver scripted wording was nearly worn off, and Harry had to squint to see what the title was. ‘Implosively Explosive’
Harry smirked, and opened the book.
Table of Contents
The words flew across the page as if some ancient spell had been activated. Though the wording didn’t look fresh, it gave Harry the nostalgic feeling that they were, similar to the time in second year when Ginny had been lured into the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry glanced up at Lady Elizabeth, then smiled slightly, and looked back down. If the book had materialized because he had required it, then it couldn’t be too bad, Harry finally decided.
Inanimate Objects…………………pg. 1-103
Harry blinked. He hadn’t even gotten past the fifth word, and already he was confused. One more glance towards Lady Elizabeth, and he sighed. “Are you inanimate?” he asked finally.
Lady Elizabeth looked taken back. “Heavens, no!” she exclaimed indignantly.
Harry grinned and skimmed down further.
Human Beings…………………… pg. 104-256
Harry grimaced, imagining a person catching fire spontaneously. He pulled a face at the concept, and quickly moved on.
Animals……………………………
Magical Beings ……… pg. 257-308
Non-Magical Beings… pg. 308-310
Plants……………………………… pg. 311-452
Portraits…………………………… pg. 452-607
Harry grinned triumphantly when he found that portraits had their very own chapter. His face fell seconds later when he realized that he would have to do more than 155 pages worth of reading to find out exactly what he wanted to know.
With a groan, Harry clomped his head on the table.
Lady Elizabeth stared down at him curiously. “Problem, dear?”
Harry had nearly forgotten about the meeting with Draco that night. If he had not fallen asleep once again that night in the commons and woken up at nearly eleven thirty, he would have. As it was, Harry was stuck there; awaiting Draco’s return, because he partially feared what Draco would do if he ditched it.
Which was why he was nearly scared out of his pants when Draco popped up in the fireplace twenty minutes early.
Harry stared at him, shocked into stillness. Draco smiled at him and pulled his head out of the fireplace, disappearing. Minutes later, Draco popped into the room, dusting himself off as he seated himself. “Potter,” He greeted with an incline of his head.
Harry sat stiffly in his chair. His mouth was dry and his neck was sore from sleeping in an awkward position for two consecutive days.
“Are you okay?” Draco asked, cocking his head to the side as he looked over Harry calculatingly.
Harry glared. “Peachy,” he retorted through gritted teeth.
Draco shrugged. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get your britches in a twist. You just don’t look very good. You’re pretty pale.”
“I’m fine,” Harry countered, albeit a bit too quickly.
Draco stared at him knowingly, but didn’t say anything. After a long bout of awkward silence, Draco finally tore his gaze away, favoring to, instead, have a look around the room. The distaste was evident on his face. His lip curled slightly, and his brows bunched together in a most attractive manner as he looked the room up and down.
“These colors are ridiculous. Have you no fashion sense, Potter?”
Harry ignored the question. “You came here for a reason, Malfoy,” he stated, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and crossing his arms across his chest protectively. “Get on with it.”
Draco looked at Harry curiously. “Do you ever shut up?” he asked, shocking Harry for the second time that night.
“What do you mean?” Harry spluttered, springing from the armchair to glare down at Draco. Draco just smirked up at him.
“Well…perhaps that wasn’t exactly the right thing to say. What I meant to say was, don’t you ever just take comfort in the fact that you have company? You don’t always have to go about shooting off your mouth like that, you know. We don‘t even have to talk at all if you don‘t want. I believe I‘ll be just fine in the presence of your company, knowing that you‘re not off somewhere puking your guts out.”
Harry glowered and crossed his arms, but didn’t say anything, and after a while, Draco sighed as his facial features softened. “I’m sorry, Potter. Look, I’m just worried about you, all right? Everyone is.”
Harry glared at Draco, who was shifting rather uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t need you guys to be worried about me.” Harry bit out. Draco sighed.
“Harry, holding in all those emotions can’t be good for your health. I mean, you’ve already been in critical condition almost three times. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Draco had somehow managed to find a place kneeling on the floor between Harry’s knees, with his hands on Harry’s thighs. “Look at yourself, Potter, and tell me that nothing’s changed.”
Harry stared down at Draco and sighed. “Shut up, Malfoy. Just shut up!”
Standing, Harry pushed Draco away to sprawl on the floor and look up at Harry, hurt shining clearly in his eyes.
Harry shot Draco one final look, and began pacing. Eventually, he brought his thumb up to his mouth and began gnawing unconsciously on the nail. Draco watched suspiciously, as many emotions flitted across his face.
Suddenly, he turned towards Draco, face stony and cold. “I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need your help.” Harry said, eyes flashing angrily. His cheek twitched slightly as he clenched his teeth in order to keep his emotions in check. “I’m fine.”
Draco stood, eyes glistening and brows wrinkled in thought. “Harry, this isn’t you. You wouldn’t-”
Harry’s nostrils flared and his eyebrow twitched, eyes blazing. “Who are you to say who I am? You know absolutely nothing about me! Nothing!”
“Potter-”
“Don’t. Okay? I don’t need it.”
“Well, apparently you need something.” Draco cried out with a glare.
Harry’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, as silence stretched.
Draco sighed. “Potter, I’m leaving. I know you know that you need help, but apparently, I’m not the one who can give it to you.”
With that, Draco spun on his heel and made his way towards the fireplace. A reluctant look was shot towards Harry before his facial features went slack, and he threw the floo powder into the fireplace. A shout of his destination, which could hardly be heard over the roar of the freshly renewed fire, was the last thing Harry heard of him before he disappeared from sight.
Harry stared after Draco wistfully for a long time after he had gone.
…
…
…
Harry was late waking up that morning, and therefore, was nearly late for Potions.
When he got down for breakfast, the Gryffindor table was nearly empty. A scant few first years sat at one end, with most of the food piled onto their plates. Boys were wolfing down pancakes and bacon, while girls looked on in disgust. When Harry plopped himself down next to one of the first year boys, all movement stopped, and they all stared at him as if he were an exhibit on display.
Harry sighed and snatched a piece of toast from one of the boys while they were gaping. He nibbled on it for a few seconds, the crunching sound comforting in the silence as the first years looked on.
After a while, Harry sighed. “What the bloody hell do you want?” he growled out.
Girls shrieked giddily, and boys grinned from ear to ear, high-fiving each other over the table. Harry just sighed again, excusing himself quietly.
He snatched his book bag from the seat next to him, and quickly rushed to class. He barely got there in time, and Hermione was staring at him curiously as he took his seat next to her.
Madam Pomfrey entered the room behind Harry, and with a silent glare towards him, she began class.
Midway through, when the room was smelling something rancid and there was smoke galore floating about (which, according to the textbook, was the correct way to make the particular potion), Hermione prodded him in the side, nearly causing him to drop his handful of dried, crushed Wullyweed root. “Where were you this morning, Harry?” she hissed as she stirred their smoking potion.
Harry exhaled loudly, and finished sprinkling the root over their potion. “I slept late.” He said after a long pause. He offered no other explanation, and just as he thought Hermione might accept the negligible offering, she asked another question.
“Why?”
“I was tired,”
“Harry…” Hermione looked at him scoldingly. “I thought you were going to go to bed earlier last night. Haven’t you been complaining about being tired a lot lately? I mean, come on! Honestly, if you’re tired you should sleep! We haven’t even been here a whole week yet!”
Harry sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just…sometimes it’s hard to sleep.”
Hermione studied Harry for a long time. “Maybe you need to see Madam Pomfrey about this, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “No! I’m fine! Honestly.”
Hermione eyed Harry suspiciously. With a half-hearted smile, she nodded. “Okay, Harry.” Something in her eyes told Harry that she didn’t believe him.
…
…
…
Harry sighed and slouched in the chair he was seated in. “I shouldn’t be here. I really shouldn’t be here,” he groaned.
“Why ever not?”
Harry sighed and looked up at the beautiful Lady Elizabeth, who seemed to be towering over him from her position, hanging above the mantle of the fireplace.
“Er…I have an essay due in Defence class soon. I should really be getting it done. Free hours probably weren’t assigned so that we could goof off.”
Lady Elizabeth smiled. “You can do it in here,” she said, gesturing towards the table that was materializing itself in front of Harry as they spoke.
Harry stared down at the table, a disheartened frown on his lips. He had come here to talk to Lady Elizabeth, because quite honestly, there was no one else that he could talk to. However, that was much easier said than done.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Lady Elizabeth asked, concern worrying her features.
“No!” Harry exclaimed.
Lady Elizabeth looked at him grimly, eyebrows wrinkled in worry.
“Harry…” she trailed off, and Harry stared at her guardedly, expecting her to say exactly the same things as everyone else would say, had they known.
“What?” he snapped, clenching his fists, ready to spring from his seat if necessary.
“You can tell me,” she said, eyes softening. Harry blinked suspiciously.
“Huh?”
“I know something’s bothering you, and I want you to know that you can tell me. You can trust me, Harry. I promise.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just saying that.”
“On my portrait’s honor, I promise you, Harry, that you can trust me.” Lady Elizabeth said, wringing her hands, eyes pleading with him. “I would spontaneously combust before I told a soul what you’ve confided in me.”
Harry tilted his head and examined her. She may have been just a portrait, but for now, just a portrait may just help him out of the internal struggle he was currently having.
Long minutes later, Harry had come up with the conclusion that he could trust her. “Okay,” he agreed. “But you have to keep your promise, and I have to know that you‘re keeping your promise. Will you allow me to put a spell on you?” he asked, eyes shining meaningfully.
Lady Elizabeth smiled. “Of course,”
Harry nodded, eyebrows scrunched together as he wracked his brains for a spell that would cause her to spontaneously combust if she told anyone his secrets.
Slowly, a book materialized in front of Harry. It looked as though it had seen better days. The corners were worn thin, and the pages were thick and yellowed, and they crackled when Harry opened the thick cover, in awe.
The silver scripted wording was nearly worn off, and Harry had to squint to see what the title was. ‘Implosively Explosive’
Harry smirked, and opened the book.
Table of Contents
The words flew across the page as if some ancient spell had been activated. Though the wording didn’t look fresh, it gave Harry the nostalgic feeling that they were, similar to the time in second year when Ginny had been lured into the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry glanced up at Lady Elizabeth, then smiled slightly, and looked back down. If the book had materialized because he had required it, then it couldn’t be too bad, Harry finally decided.
Inanimate Objects…………………pg. 1-103
Harry blinked. He hadn’t even gotten past the fifth word, and already he was confused. One more glance towards Lady Elizabeth, and he sighed. “Are you inanimate?” he asked finally.
Lady Elizabeth looked taken back. “Heavens, no!” she exclaimed indignantly.
Harry grinned and skimmed down further.
Human Beings…………………… pg. 104-256
Harry grimaced, imagining a person catching fire spontaneously. He pulled a face at the concept, and quickly moved on.
Animals……………………………
Magical Beings ……… pg. 257-308
Non-Magical Beings… pg. 308-310
Plants……………………………… pg. 311-452
Portraits…………………………… pg. 452-607
Harry grinned triumphantly when he found that portraits had their very own chapter. His face fell seconds later when he realized that he would have to do more than 155 pages worth of reading to find out exactly what he wanted to know.
With a groan, Harry clomped his head on the table.
Lady Elizabeth stared down at him curiously. “Problem, dear?”