Trophy

Author's Note: So yes, I know, I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger last time, but you might just forgive me now. I do love you all even though I torture you so. Many thanks as always to Angel for her beta-reading of this chapter. The story is coming to a close and I can feel it unfolding around me, but I try not to let it bother me since I have more waiting in the wings.

Chapter 19 All Things Are Revealed in Due Time

It had gone so wrong.

Harry hoped – even though he suspected he was bound for disappointment – that Draco would turn away the persistent suitor in the club. Instead, Draco had taken the man home with him and there Harry was in some random guestroom, looking up from his knees to see the frustrated face of the man who was supposed to be his boyfriend looking back down at him with contempt. Harry had just put on a show for the blond, removing his clothing in a slow and seductive manner so that the Slytherin could take him, even though Draco had no idea it was Harry under the disguise that Polyjuice had given him.

He wanted Draco to fuck him just as his heart was breaking at the same time. If Draco wanted this man, this body to plunge into, he could have it, but then he’d never have the rest of him – the parts that mattered. At least he knew, at least he now had factual evidence to prove that Draco could never be faithful to him and that Harry was right all along to deny him. All it had taken was to flip the switch and let the other side of himself out to play, the debaucherous side of his personality that rarely saw the light of day anymore. That part of Harry was like a caged lion being taunted with scraps of meat. That part of him wanted to let Malfoy fuck him, wanted to be filled, wanted to stop the pain that his heart was inflicting upon him as it shattered into a million pieces from Draco’s betrayal.

Draco pulled his shirt off and unfastened his trousers as if he just couldn’t wait to bury his cock into something, anything. The blond was truly magnificent as he undressed and Harry wished desperately that he’d seen all that naked flesh under different circumstances. He almost felt guilty for his trickery, but the hungry expression in Draco’s piercing gray eyes erased that feeling almost instantly. “Fuck me,” Harry pleaded to silence the sobbing screams in his head. It only served him right, he should have known Draco wouldn’t have the willpower to withstand someone else’s advances, he’d been leery and his suspicions had been proven true.

He gripped Harry’s face with pale fingers and turned it from side to side, studying it with a critical eye. “I can’t,” he whispered at last and got up. His pants were back on faster than Harry could see it happen as he blinked rapidly in response. He hadn’t been expecting that, not after the heated display earlier.

“What?” Harry asked in his adopted voice. “You don’t want this?” he asked, gesturing toward his own unfamiliar cock indecently.

“No, I don’t,” Draco replied and pointed to the door. “Get out.”

“What’s got you so worked up?” Harry asked, climbing to his feet and grabbing the throbbing erection peeking out from the top of Draco’s trousers. “I can tell you still want to fuck me.”

“No. I don’t,” Draco repeated, more venom behind the words this time. “I want someone else. I love someone else.”

“Love?” Harry balked, his next words choking on his tongue. He was prepared to lure the blond back in if he could, but this was an unusual tactic. Had Draco just told a complete stranger that he was in love? And to what ends? Was this part of his game, making his conquest beg for it? “With who?” Harry scoffed, although his heart was no longer in it and he could feel that lascivious part of himself slink away to the background again.

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head. “It’s none of your business. Just get out,” he ordered again.

Harry shook his head and backed Draco up toward the bed with practiced movements, never releasing the man’s erection as he did. “Pretend I’m him,” Harry suggested.

A harsh laugh escaped Draco’s lips and he glared menacingly down at Harry before swatting his hand away. “I already tried that, but no amount of imagination can turn you into Harry bloody Potter.”

Harry laughed, his normal chiming laugh, and gathered his clothes up at once. Draco was in love with him, and the blond looked mighty pissed about that fact. “You’re in love with Harry Potter?”

“Who the fuck are you to judge me? Get the fuck out!” Draco shouted, opening the door and lifting his wand.

“I hope he’s worth it,” Harry remarked as he slipped out the door, laughing when he heard Malfoy mutter ‘Me too,’ over his shoulder before slamming the bedroom door viciously behind him.

The smug grin never died from Harry’s lips as he tugged on his clothes in the corridor, though it nearly did when he spotted Lucius Malfoy leaning elegantly against the wall adjacent to the door he’d recently escaped from. “And you are?” the man asked, as if all visitors to the Manor had to announce their presence to the older man.

“Nobody,” Harry replied, still unable to swipe the smile from his face as the haughty blond loomed over him.

Lucius narrowed his gaze and took a step forward, analyzing Harry as he did. “Well, did you get what you were after?”

“I did,” Harry replied with a nod and turned to leave. He might have been mistaken when he thought he heard the older man sigh in relief, but he turned back regardless, only to see his features still in that imperceptible mask of indifference. “Why do you and Draco hate one another so much?” he asked, blurting a question he hadn’t meant to voice aloud ever, especially not right then in the corridor outside where Draco was fuming alone.

“I don’t hate my son,” Lucius snapped and Harry could tell by the set of his jaw that he was gritting his teeth. “I want only the best for him.”

“But you don’t think he’s capable of deciding on his own?” Harry inquired and the man paled slightly.

“I think it’s rather obvious that Draco’s not the most consistent in making good decisions,” Lucius countered.

“I think you underestimate him,” Harry quipped.

“You mean the way you underestimated him tonight, Mr. Potter?” Lucius asked, his brow creased in challenge.

It was Harry’s turn to pale. “W-what-” More than the fact that he’d obviously been ousted, Harry felt a twinge of guilt emerge as the results of his actions came barreling toward him. He’d tricked the blond, and he felt back about that, but if anyone could forgive such a trespass, it was a Slytherin, right?

“Oh yes,” Lucius replied snidely, “I knew it was you from the moment you opened that bumbling mouth of yours. Polyjuice, I assume, or just a well-maintained glamour?”

“Polyjuice,” Harry muttered pathetically and Lucius shook his head in admonishment.

“Pity. What has the Ministry come to when their Head Auror stoops to using Polyjuice in order to ensnare his unsuspecting lover in a trap of infidelity?” Lucius hissed and Harry’s eyes widened a fraction before narrowing in a gaze that easily matched Lucius’ for menace.

“It think it’s prudent that a man who makes such thorough observations about things that are none of his business remain under house arrest,” Harry replied, as if it were a casual opinion and not the damning statement that it was. Only his eyes betrayed his intentions with the comment.

Somehow - and before that day Harry might not have thought it even possible - Lucius’ face looked even sharper than before. “It seems I’ve been spending my time underestimating the wrong side of this relationship.”

“I’m not the boy you scolded as a blood traitor at Hogwarts,” Harry replied.

“So I see,” Lucius mused as his shoulders became rigid and he broke into a long stride, leaving Harry standing there in the corridor staring after him.

“What is it with Malfoys and sudden dismissals?” Harry grumbled under his breath as he made his way to the front of Malfoy Manor and left the marbled mansion behind.

It was late and the sky was pitch black above him but Harry didn’t mind. Not even his odd encounter with Lucius Malfoy could dampen his mood tonight. Not when Draco Malfoy had just professed his love and fidelity.

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Draco cast a strong silencing spell on the door the moment the man he’d picked up had left the room. He felt mildly ashamed that he hadn’t even gotten a name. How would he have known what to put on the trophy tag without it? But then, obviously it was an unnecessary detail since he’d cast the man out of his bed. A growling scream of frustration rattled his throat as he leveled his wand at the vase in the corner of the room and cast Reducto, sending it exploding into a million ceramic pieces.

The sound made him calmer, but his head was still reeling from what had just happened. Bloody Potter was ruining his life bit by infuriating bit. Draco had kept looking at the nude man’s face, wishing those eyes were fucking green, wishing that body belonged to someone else entirely. How had this happened? How had he fallen in love with a bloody Gryffindor?

Pale hands raked haphazardly through his hair and he stopped midway, forcing himself to quiet and his hands to settle back into his lap. He took a deep breath and counted to ten before expelling it in a whoosh of air. His love life was already ruined it seemed, but he would not let Potter drive him to forget who he was. He was still a Malfoy, and as such, he had certain dignities to uphold. His father would be so displeased if he could see Draco now, see what a blithering mess Harry Potter had put him in, what a mess he’d put himself in over the raven-haired idiot.

He didn’t love Potter; he was just being momentarily asinine. How could he? It had only been a few months and they hadn’t even had sex, Draco didn’t yet know if they were compatible in bed and he couldn’t possibly be in love with someone he had no chemistry with. Although, even as he thought the words, he knew the idea was utterly ridiculous. He felt chemistry with Harry from mere grazes of the hand; of course they would be unstoppable fireworks in the bedroom.

A wracking sigh shook his entire body as he sat there on the edge of an unused bed and thought about Harry. Could he go down that path? Could he throw away all he’d worked for, all he’d attained so far and spend the rest of his life with this one man? He didn’t know the answer to that question. Could he ever be comfortable with the idea of never sleeping with another person again? Could Harry fulfill him enough to keep him from straying? Would his trophy room never garner a new prize? He certainly couldn’t fathom being with anyone else right then, but would that feeling last, or was this conquest just more challenging than the rest, leaving Draco’s thoughts twisted and confused?

There was only one way to find out.

He righted his clothing, checked his reflection briefly in the mirror to make sure it was up to his lofty standards of perfection, and marched out of the room, out of the Manor, and to the front gate where he Apparated to Grimmauld Place and knocked roughly on the door.

Harry opened it after the third bout of knocks and just stared at him, a lazy grin on his face. “Draco, what brings you by so late?” he asked, his eyes glistening with amusement that Draco didn’t understand.

“We need to talk,” Draco replied, and Harry moved aside to let him in.

“What about?” Harry asked coyly as he folded his arms across his chest and stood waiting for Draco spit it out.

“I need to know what you think when you think about me. You’ve been frustratingly illusive about your feelings and I’m…I’m getting sick of it, Potter,” he growled, however the infuriating Gryffindor just smiled, as if he’d just said the wittiest thing ever. “Gods dammit, Potter, I’m losing my mind here. Do you care about me at all?” he demanded, challenging the raven-haired boy with his eyes to deny him. Harry drove him mad, made him forget his upbringing and his carefully constructed ability to hide what he was feeling. Somehow the lean Gryffindor in front of him blasted through his thick walls and entered his heart and he just had to know that he’d had at least a fraction of the same impact on Harry’s life as well.

He only had a moment to wonder what Harry was going to say when the man’s lips were suddenly pressed against his in a bruising kiss. Arms snaked around his neck and a strong solid body pressed him back into the door that had recently shut behind him as Harry devoured the blond. Draco’s gasp of surprise was muffled by eager lips and Draco’s whole world melted away as he sank into the feeling of Harry wrapped around him.

His own arms twined around the brunet’s waist and he pulled him closer, tasting deeply of him until Harry pulled away to lick a scorching line along the blond’s neck, sending a shudder through his body. “Was that a yes?” Draco asked mildly as Harry pulled away with a contented sigh.

“If you thought it was a ‘no’, I must not have been doing it right,” Harry replied cheekily. “Here, let me try again.”

Harry leaned in slower this time and didn’t so much attack Draco’s lips as gently urge them to part to make way for his glorious tongue. Harry tasted of spearmint and Firewhisky as he pressed against the blond, and even though there was no bruising pressure, no heavy panting, the kiss was just as eager and passionate as the last.

Draco found his eyes falling shut from the sensations that wafted over him at Harry’s touch. The man was strong and smoldering in his arms, his dark hair lightly brushing against his forehead and his throat made the most delicious moans of pleasure as they kissed.

When he felt Harry’s hands wriggle their way under his shirt, his heart rate sped up and his eyes bolted open. The feeling of those hot fingertips against his bare flesh was like miniature lightening strikes all over his body. “I want you, Draco,” Harry told him, his voice guttural and full of need. “I want you now.”

Draco moaned with pleasure at the sound of those long awaited words being uttered with such passion but then his heart screamed at him, calling him a liar and a fake and Draco took a step back. “I can’t,” he replied and Harry’s face fell instantly.

“What?” he whispered, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I need to show you something first. Then you can decided if you still want to be with me,” Draco replied, hating the conflict raging inside of him.

“I- right now?” Harry stammered, not wanting to halt their new romance.

“Right now,” Draco replied with a nod, holding his hand out for Harry to take. As soon as Harry’s warm fingers wrapped around his own, Draco Apparated them both back to Malfoy Manor where he led Harry upstairs and down a long corridor, stopping in front of a pristine white door that looked like any other he’d seen there.

When Draco pushed it open and gestured for Harry to go in, it was immediately apparent that this was not just any room in Malfoy Manor. The walls were creamy white with iridescent brocade markings that led up to a tall trey ceiling with a moving mural of albino peacocks dancing in a garden. It made the room feel topsy-turvy and only the massive four-poster bed centered below it grounded Harry’s perspective. All the furniture and linens were faint variations of white and ivory, making the room look like as fragile as porcelain. Without his dark robes, Draco almost blended into his surroundings, his alabaster skin and white blond hair seemed to melt right into the room, as if it were made specifically for him.

Harry gasped and looked at Draco with wide, shining eyes. “Is this your room?”

“No one has ever set foot inside this doorway save my parents,” Draco admitted with a nod.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” Harry asked with an indulgent smile. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t understand why you thought I might not want you after seeing this.”

“This only part of what I have to show you,” Draco told him solemnly before going to his closet doors and disappearing inside. Harry followed, smirking at the vast curtains of clothing along the walls and chuckling to himself. “I’d already guessed that you’re a bit of a clothes whore, Draco. I’ve never seen you wear the same robes twice the whole time we’ve known one another.”

“I’m not just a collector of fine garments, Harry,” Draco replied seriously. “I’m a whore when it comes to people as well.”

Harry pursed his lips and nodded. He’d already known that of course, there wasn’t a witch or wizard in all of Europe who didn’t, but he had a feeling that Draco was about to show him something quite ominous.

Draco led him to the back of the closet where he shoved aside a rack of elegantly tailored Muggle suits and revealed a blank expanse of wall behind them. After a few muttered spells, a small door appeared and Harry shuddered as the powerful magic used to reveal it wafted over him. It took a moment for Draco to unlock it and shove the door open, but he waved for Harry to go in, so the Gryffindor did.

What met his eyes was astounding.

It took a moment for his mind to process what his eyes were seeing, racks and shelves filled with knickers and golden tags. At first he thought it was just a very odd way for Draco to display his vast collection of undergarments, then looking up at the chandelier, with several lacy thongs dangling from its branches, he wondered if Draco might have an odd fetish for wearing women’s panties and this was his not-so-subtle way of telling him about it.

His eyes flicked to the magnificent blond who was watching him very closely, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to mind terribly much if Draco wore skimpy under things, in fact, he found it more amusing than disturbing to picture the haughty man in a red lace thong.

It wasn’t until his eyes settled on the glittering golden tags that he realized without any uncertainty what he was looking at. One after the other, Harry picked them up and stared unblinkingly at the golden carvings, reading name after name of Draco’s many conquests. There were dozens; Draco had been a very busy boy over the past few years. When he made his way to the centerpiece, he saw Draco wince and Harry looked to the shelf and picked up the tiny golden tag with nothing yet attached. His name was emblazoned into the surface like a brand and Harry felt his stomach lurch violently.

“Can we leave, please,” he asked and Draco nodded solemnly, gesturing for Harry to lead the way.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco began the moment they were back in Draco’s airy bedroom. “I just needed to show you-”

Harry held up a hand to halt him and looked a tad ill. “So, that’s it huh?” he asked. “You kept all the things that you stole from the people who reported you in my files?”

Draco nodded, disgusted with himself. He hadn’t wanted to see Harry look at him this way, but his heart refused to let him bed Harry without the brunet knowing his darkest secrets.

“So, you’re not a ballerina?” Harry asked out of the blue and Draco frowned in response before realizing that Harry had connected the Trophy room his father had mentioned at dinner weeks before to the room he just saw.

“I was in ballet, those were all my trophies, but the room I showed you that day hadn’t existed before that moment,” Draco admitted, his face set in a marble mask so that Harry couldn’t see how much pain he was in.

Harry’s shoulders sagged and he sat on the edge of Draco’s bed, staring off into space for a while. “I always knew about you,” he whispered at last, not looking up. “And I’m not stupid, Draco. I suspected all along you just wanted me to add to your long list of conquests. Why do you think I resisted you for so long?”

“I understand if this changes everything,” Draco sighed, his shoulders squaring as if he was preparing himself to be Hexed.

“If I stay, would you destroy it?” Harry asked, finally looking up and meeting Draco’s now wide eyes.

“The room?” he asked and Harry nodded.

“The room, everything inside of it, the tag with my name on it,” Harry elaborated.

“I don’t know-” Draco began but Harry stood and stopped Draco’s words with a kiss, warm and tender at first until it grew into the smoldering fire it had been just before Apparating here.

Harry was tired. He was tired of fighting his attraction to Draco, he was tired of living his life backwards because of mistakes in his past, he was tired of letting love pass him by because he was afraid of ruining it. If Draco wanted to hurt him, Merlin knew he was capable of it, but Harry also knew that the blond was capable of love – he’d admitted as much with both words and gestures in the past few hours. How would Harry ever know which he’d get if he didn’t give up and let life happen, let Draco decide what he wanted.

Harry was no angel, his past was as sinful as Draco’s, in fact, the only difference between them was that Draco wanted to remember his empty conquests with trinkets and trophies while Harry simply wanted to forget all about his own. There had to be a middle ground, some place where the two could meet and they could be happy together. Being sexually adventurous didn’t need to mean being with a new partner every night.

The bed was soft and downy as Draco pressed Harry back into it, taking control of the encounter with practiced ease. His logic was overrun as Harry pressed against him, grinding their erections together in delicious friction. “Draco,” the brunet gasped as he parted briefly from Draco’s lips. “I was the man you took home from the club tonight.”

Draco’s eyes went wide as he frowned down at Harry in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I was using Polyjuice,” he admitted, blushing slightly, but remaining defiant. “I was testing you to see if you’d cheat.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he pulled himself up to straddle Harry’s lap. “Why you sneaky, underhanded Gryffindor,” he hissed. “Do you realize how tormented I was over that?”

“As well you should be,” Harry huffed. “If you choose me, you’re mine and only mine,” he growled possessively. “I refuse to share.”

“If?” Draco asked, his chest heaving from the exertion it took not to take the slippery fiend right then and there.

“If,” Harry repeated. “I can’t make you change your lifestyle,” he explained. “Only you can choose to do that.”

“But,” Draco stammered, looking down at Harry who was slipping out of his shirt, displaying a stunning line of taut flesh. “We’re doing this regardless?” he asked, with a gesture that seemed to encompass the whole bed.

“Unless you want me to stop,” Harry replied, his nimble fingers working at the buttons on Draco’s own shirt.

Draco needed no further encouragement. It seemed he was allowed to have his cake and eat it too. Perhaps once he sated his curiosity in Potter’s expertise, he could go back to his old life without consequence. He could collect his trophy and send Potter on his way and just forget that he’d ever uttered the word love in the other man’s direction. This was exactly what he’d wanted all along.

Harry groaned as the rest of their clothing was removed hurriedly, but took his time savoring the sight of pale flesh above him. His fingers roamed every inch as he caressed and groped the beautiful Slytherin. He had no idea what Draco would do in the end, break his heart or make it whole, but the moment Draco’s hot mouth descended on his throbbing prick, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Warmth and pleasure rolled over him as he watched with hooded eyes as Draco licked and sucked him, his cheeks hollowing from the force of it. Harry was crying out, clawing the linens below him but the blond stopped abruptly and smirked down at him, causing Harry to scowl.

When he felt a finger breach his arse, he tightened around it, making Draco moan, to which Harry shot him his own smirk. “Devil,” Draco hissed and inserted a second finger. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and his mind raced with desire, his entire body arching up in display for Draco to devour.

It was a reverent sigh on Draco’s lips as he took in Harry’s angular hips and muscled thighs and that perfect ebony hair spread out like a fan around his head - such a sharp contrast to the ivory pillows beneath him. Harry was exactly how he’d dreamed, beautiful and begging like a wanton whore, completely abandoning all sense of decorum as he writhed and moaned at Draco’s touch.

For a moment he thought that there was no way he could ever get tired of watching Harry like this, that he could see him sweaty and keening twenty-four hours a day and never grow restless for someone new, but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside as he extracted his fingers and watched a fully stretched Harry bite into his bottom lip to keep from Hexing him in frustration.

Green eyes, so bright Draco might have imagined them, bored into his own steely gray, and as if the man knew exactly what would spurn him on, Harry licked his lips and literally begged to be fucked. “Please,” he moaned, reaching down to stroke his own cock as he bared his arse for Draco unabashedly. “Fuck me, Draco.”

Unable to resist such a display, Draco quickly saturated his cock with a lubrication spell and plunged into Harry’s tight channel with a low snarl of pleasure. Heat engulfed him and he could feel Harry squeezing him, urging him inch by inch further inside of him. He moved, giving Harry shallow, teasing thrusts, but Harry was having none of that.

With an awkward shove, Harry toppled Draco backward and seated himself in the blond’s lap, never severing their melded groins. The movement drove Draco deeper and both men cried out, stilling their bodies for a moment as they gathered themselves and then Harry lifted up and plunged back down on the glorious shaft, making Draco curse and grapple at Harry’s thighs.

“I’m going to come any second if you keep that up,” he growled and Harry tightened around him, making Draco whimper.

“You’d better not,” Harry purred seductively. “I’d hate to find out that the rumors of your prowess were greatly exaggerated.”

Draco scowled at him and arched up, impaling Harry so deeply that he cried out, his head lolled back and his lips parted prettily. “If by the end of the night I’m not the best you’ve ever had, I’ll let you announce it to Witch Weekly myself,” he hissed and Harry smiled lazily at him as he began to move, his pace quickening and deepening with each thrust.

Nimble fingers curled around his own bobbing erection and stroked, sending Harry over the edge. The brunet screamed Draco’s name as he came, thick, milky white liquid spraying and pooling across Draco’s pale flesh.

“Harry,” Draco groaned in a strangled cry as he too climaxed and pumped one final time into Harry’s waiting cavity. Harry fell to the side, letting Draco slide from his abused hole and his head hit the comfort of a soft silky pillow.

“Are you kicking me out tonight, or can you wait until morning?” Harry asked lazily and Draco moved to wrap his arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him back against his chest.

“Morning,” he answered and Harry yawned.

“Good, because I don’t feel like moving yet.”

Draco tried to think of a teasing answer, but soon he could hear the deep, level breathing of his lover beside him and he sunk into the pillow and fell asleep with Harry a solid weight in his arms. He’d never been so content before; he’d never even slept so soundly with another person in his arms. Typically, if he allowed his conquest to stay the night, he was detached and separated from them. He wasn’t into cuddling, and he liked to sleep free of anyone’s grasp.

This was different somehow, and deep in his mind he knew why. Harry was meant for him, but was this really what he wanted? Could he destroy the Trophy room? Could he make a relationship with Harry work when they were both so likely to stray? The words of the parting man from earlier that night came unbidden into his sleeping brain. ‘I hope he’s worth it.’

That was a question Draco still didn’t have an answer to yet.

Was Harry worth changing his entire life for?

Author's note: I'm sure you are all screaming 'Yes you dolt!!' but fear not. Draco will make the right choice in the end. Probably. Maybe. There is at least a 50/50 chance of it anyway. *grin. Don't forget to follow me if you're on Twitter! http://twitter.com/Digitallace