A Dream For The Dead

A Dream For The Dead

Chapter 32

That Gave Me Heartache To Sing

Excitement did not even begin to describe it. Not even close. His heart was pounding against his chest and his blood rushed and gushed into is ears, flooding his body with adrenaline and dopamine. His body radiated heat and he could feel his slightly laboured breathing. His nerves were tingling. His eyes were wide and his lips were stretched wide in a dark grin.

Sadistic pleasure came closer to accurate.

He could see nothing, then, but a flash of red and green with a brilliant shock of blond streaking towards him. In his mind, the figure crashed directly into him and they tumbled together into a heap, limbs intertwined and mouths crashing together.

The pulse of his body demanded it, but Harry had learned to fight off his desperate and irrational physical needs long ago.

As Draco landed gracefully next to him, they looked at one another, sharing a brilliant moment of vindictive glee before the world lurched. Harry was so focused on the way Draco’s silver eyes were glinting with almost-light he did not feel the tell-tale signs of the shift. He stumbled back a moment, Draco thrown into his arms, their cheeks bumping as Harry caught him.

Draco chuckled softly and regained his footing. His smile faded only slightly as he grasped Harry’s arm to steady himself and ground his feet again. Harry used him for the same purpose, breathing in the sweet musk of Draco’s body as he did.

“Happens when I land,” Draco murmured quietly, pulling away. Harry nodded and tried to keep the disappointment out of his face and his eyes. The distance between them grew and his cheek and hands prickled where they had brushed Draco’s skin.

“Right,” Harry answered. Harry’s eyes travelled over Draco’s body, taking in the wind-blown hair, the slightly flushed cheeks, the heaving chest and the slender fingers, curled around the lifeless golden ball. He was engrossed in studying the finest details of Draco’s appearance to the point that he missed the flashes in the distance and the whooshing sounds of company on their way.

Harry had felt the world fall away, standing next to a victorious Draco in the centre of the field.

Now it was rushing back, full-force and crushing him in the onslaught.

A flash of deep green and red and then Harry felt an angry Harpy to his left.

Ginny had landed, soon followed by the rest of her team and Draco’s, each on the appropriate side, standing behind their teammates. Ginny’s hair had fallen free from the knot she had tied and was flying wildly around her face. She was livid and Harry idly wondered why before remembering to be angry.

“You sodding son of bitch!” Ginny shrieked at Draco, apparently unaware of Harry’s presence. “You fucking cheated!”

Harry’s anger returned like a tidal wave, destroying every other thought and emotion in one crushing crash. His grin turned into a smirk, however, and became more feral in its nature.

“You may want to acquaint yourself with the rulebook, Weasley,” Draco sneered, carefully emphasizing Ginny’s maiden name. She jerked and her lip curled in an ugly grimace. “You seem to be under the delusion that Quidditch is a tackling sport. I, on the other hand, have committed no fouls.”

Draco looked down his nose at Ginny and, in any other situation, at any other moment in time, Harry might have scolded him for it. But right then, after she accused him of her own crime and she abused Harry’s name, Harry was more than pleased to stand on Draco’s side. Ginny spluttered indignantly and then growled.

“You fucking ponce, you caught the Snitch illegally,” she snarled back at him. “The ref didn’t call a foul for me so there was none. You want to challenge the official judgment then you go ahead and hang yourself, but you still cheated!”

Draco rolled his eyes and his body tensed. Harry’s body tensed in time and he carefully manoeuvred himself between Ginny and the blond.

“The Plumpton Pass is a perfectly legal play,” Harry informed her smugly. “The fact that it has never been accomplished intentionally, until now, has no bearing on it. It only serves to further support the quality of Draco’s seeking abilities.”

Ginny blinked several times as she shifted her angry focus to Harry. She seemed to see him for the first time and then took a shocked half-step back.

“Harry?” she asked, as though she thought she was dreaming. “What are you doing here? What… are you defending him?” she asked. She did not allow Harry time to respond, however. He suspected it was a rhetorical question. “He has poisoned you against us! He fucking cheated!!”

“The only cheater I saw tonight,” Harry said in a vicious tone. “Is you.”

Ginny’s eyes widened before narrowing on him and turning her full wrath to Harry. He was perfectly used to her ire and it held no danger for him now.

“Why are you even here?” she asked in accusation this time. “Not once in my career have you attended a game! You said you had no more interest in Quidditch, that you didn’t want to follow it anymore! Now you’re suddenly an expert on the subject? You’ve been out of the game for a long time, Harry. What the hell do you know?”

Harry’s eyes flashed and he felt his skin stretch at the urge to explode from his fury. He tried to convince himself that making a scene would be a bad idea, but Ginny had already made one. He no longer cared.

“The only reason I stopped following Quidditch, Ginny,” he whispered venomously, leaning in carefully so that only she and Draco could hear. “Is that you started playing professionally.”

Ginny gasped and stumbled backward before retrieving what she thought was her dignity and rushing back at him in an offensive stance. Harry hand his wand in hand and dared her to come closer with his eyes. She stilled in her steps.

“You bastard,” she hissed. Her teammates stepped forward to restrain her if need be. They saw an Auror before they saw Harry Potter. They, apparently, knew Ginny’s temper as well as Harry did. “You’re betraying me for this- for this filth? For this skullsucking –”

Harry held his wand to her throat and stilled her tongue. She held her breath at the sight of his wand.

“Go ahead,” he breathed. “Finish your sentence. Attack me if you like. Attack Draco if you want, Ginny. I know you want to.” His anger was talking now. His anger and his hurt. “I’ll arrest you in a heartbeat.” He lowered his wand and gave her the hardest look he had. Her face paled slightly. “And I never betrayed you.”

Harry turned at this, intent on dispersing the crowd that had appeared around them. He wanted to lead the Catapults off and allow them to celebrate as they should. He wanted to see the bright smile on Draco’s face again. He wanted to keep the smile to himself.

When he saw Draco’s face, his silver eyes were sharp and his mouth was drawn into a smirk but it flickered and faded and his eyes widened. Harry felt the movement behind him at the same time and he spun around to see Ginny being grabbed by her teammates as she tried to lunge at him when he back was turned.

He shook his head and gritted his teeth. She was nothing like he had once thought she was.

She was a coward.

“You’re a fool, Harry,” Ginny spat as she was yanked back. “A bloody fool if you think that Malfoy is deserving of your time. He’s a fucking Death Eater and he’s scum.”

Harry growled and then saw a figure approach, pushing between the Harpies, which he then realized were yelling back and forth with the rest of the Catapults. At the sight of the newcomer’s face, Harry’ anger only tripled.

“What’s going on?” Dean Thomas asked, his brows furrowed as he stood next to Ginny. “Harry, mate, why are you causing a scene?”

Harry very nearly lunged at Dean just as Ginny had done to him. He wanted to bleed the man. He wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp and laugh at the splatter. He knew that was unhealthy.

“You stay the fuck out of this, mate,” Harry growled. “And stay the fuck away from me.”

Harry felt his arm twitch as he almost lost the battle against punching Dean. Then he felt a strong, warm hand on his bicep and Draco was at his side, slowly slipping his arm around Harry’s neck.

“What are you doing here, Thomas?” Draco asked silkily, as though making polite conversation but lacing every word with disdain. Dean blinked and looked at Draco. His eyes darkened and he turned his attention back to Harry. “The pitch is only accessible to the players, managers, media and Aurors.”

Dean kept his gaze trained on Harry.

“I’m here representing the sponsor for the game,” he answered tightly. “How do you think you get your broomsticks free of charge? They sponsor the games for advertising.”

Draco made a noncommittal sound and then smiled his false smile at the lot of them.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “Well, if you’ll excuse us, now that Weasley here has finished berating Potter and I, we have some celebrating to do. We did win, after all.” He brushed Harry’s cheek with his thumb and then leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s jaw.

Harry gasped slightly and unintentionally let his eyes flutter for a moment. When he focused again, Ginny and Dean both looked as though they had been slapped across the face. Hard.

Harry smirked.

“My name is Potter,” Ginny said finally, allowing her rage to overwhelm her shock. Harry cocked his eyebrow and shook his head.

“No, it’s not,” he informed her. “You’ll have your robes changed to say Weasley by your next game, or I’ll call a solicitor.” Then something dawned on Harry and he smirked. “Oh wait,” he whispered. “There won’t be a ‘next game’ this season, will there? You just got kicked out of the running.”

Ginny looked as though she had been slapped again and Harry turned back to Draco. The delicious smirk was playing on the blond’s lips again as he lead Harry away from his ex-wife and her lover.

“Ta,” he called after them.

+++++

The world was spinning and the ground was rumbling but the cause was not the usual one.

Draco pulled Potter along with him back toward the changing rooms as his team flocked in to mob them both in celebration. Arms wrapped around him from all sides and hands clapped him on the back and pushed him along. Voices were calling congratulations and encouragement in his ears but all he could really feel was Potter’s neck in the crook of his elbow, his shoulder under Draco’s hand, his body sidled up against his own.

The blond smiled brightly and leaned his head into Potter’s as they walked and he accepted the excited cries of his teammates. Oliver was at his other side, professing his undying love to Draco for pulling off the win so spectacularly. Still then he did not notice like he normally would have.

He was too concerned with Potter’s head, leaning back into him like an opposing magnetic charge, to pay much attention to anything else. In fact, the very proximity of Potter –arguing for him, complementing his Seeking skills, tearing into his ex-wife –was setting Draco’s body alight with wanting. He felt a familiar pull on his core but he was being drawn to Potter, not to Death.

If Draco had been thinking clearly and rationally he would have known that acting too friendly with Potter in public was a bad idea. He would have known, if he had taken a moment to think, that it was a dangerous game he was playing and that his life was not the only one in question anymore. He would have remembered that there was a madman –who may or may not have been in cahoots with his wife –threatening his life, his soul and his son. He would have known that the media were flashing cameras around him and that the paper the following morning would have images of him and Potter splashed across the front page.

But Draco was not thinking clearly and he did not care to start. Not when he knew that Potter fancied him, at least in some small way, and was right there for the taking.

Not when it had been years since Draco had felt this heat.

They were in the changing rooms, tearing off their sweaty uniforms and pulling on their own robes to jet off to the pub to celebrate. The whole team was chanting and hailing his name. Potter was calling out with them, having apparently changed camps for good since the last time Draco had played. He was watching Draco, though, through the crowd and chanting. His eyes were for Draco alone.

“Let’s off to the Serpent’s Tooth, yeah?” Wood called out with a grin. “Drinks are on Potter tonight!”

Potter laughed and caught Draco around the middle as they marched to the Floo and went in, one by one. Draco didn’t think he needed any alcohol tonight. He was already drunk on something.

The Serpent’s Tooth was just as rowdy as ever, but upon seeing the Catapults waltz in, Draco alongside Harry Potter, the whole place exploded in chatter and screaming. The bartender informed them that drinks were on the house because of the fantastic game (and suggesting in honour to the Saviour of the Wizarding World, as well). A round of Ogden’s Old was handed out and Potter held out his glass in a toast.

The rest of the team followed suit and Draco studied him warily, raising his glass as well. Potter grinned in such a manner that the sides of his eyes crinkled and Draco felt his chest heave.

“To the greatest Seeker in history,” he proclaimed, nodding his head to Draco. The blond smirked and Potter added, “since me, anyway.”

The team laughed and downed their drinks. Draco threw back the firewhiskey and nodded his head back in challenge to Potter.

“You think you can take me, Potter?” Draco sneered, with a cock of his eyebrows. Potter licked his lips. Draco stepped closer, pressing Potter backward into the bar. “You think you can beat me, do you?” His voice dropped an octave and his tone was smooth as silk and poison. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the tragus of Potter’s ear and hissed softly. He felt the slight shiver run through the Auror’s body and smiled. “You know what, Potter? I bet, against me, you would finish first.”

The team laughed behind him and jeered in the manner of teenagers pressuring their peers to get drunk and do stupid things. Potter’s eyes were shaded with lust as he watched Draco pull back slightly. Draco tilted his head and tried to remember the crowd of people around them, so that he did not do something unbelievably stupid.

His body was close enough to Potter’s to feel the heat rolling off him and to know how he was affecting the Auror. He moved back away in one fluid movement, mainly to get some air and retrieve his thinking capabilities. He picked up the second round of drinks the bartender poured them and down it again.

“So, Potter,” Brookway began, his words already slurring slightly. He was always rather a lightweight. “You’ve finally come ‘round and noticed how amazing our Draco is, yeah? Took you long enough.”

He threw back his drink and called for another. Draco shook his head and leaned back against the bar. Wood leaned with him and wrapped his arm around Draco’s neck. Potter was smiling but his body tensed slightly at the sight of Wood’s actions. Draco watched him carefully, unsure of whether it was safer for him to drink himself silly or stay alert.

“Nah, I’m not here for Malfoy,” Potter joked in amusement. “I just wanted an excuse to get pissed and you lot seem to do it often enough., given all the drunken disorderlies in your file.”

Brookway looked confused, briefly, before Ackerly clapped him on the shoulder and laughed, indicated that a joke had been made. Brookway flushed and rolled his eyes, then busied himself with his drink.

“Well, this isn’t a real celebration,” Peakes chimed in after a moment. “Wood promised us that next time we celebrated for real, we would shut down all of Wales to mark our win.” He turned his attention to Wood, who gazed ruefully back at him. “What happened to that plan, eh Wood?”

Wood laughed and brushed it off.

“Nah, Peakes,” he said with feigned wisdom. “Don’t you see it? You’ve already had too much, I reckon. We are in Wales. Been partying for half a week, now.” Wood shook his head in concern. “You need to lay off the whiskey, lad. You’ve lost hold of reality.”

Peakes scoffed and punched him amicably on the shoulder. Then a resounding crash was heard just outside the door. Draco’s heart leapt into his throat and he spun around. There was a brawl happening outside and flashes of bright green and red light were travelling back and forth.

Soon there was yelling of a distinctly frightened sort and the windows of the pub shattered as streaks of green, yellow and blue light ricocheted off the mirrors and walls of the pub.

Everyone cried out at once and chaos rolled in. Draco felt his body tense and he saw flashes of white masks that he never believed he would see again. He heard screaming and a picture show of violent images assaulted his mind.

He could feel the darkness encroaching as the screaming became more shrill. Then Draco became faintly aware of people calling his name and a pair of strong arms wrapped around him. He grasped and struggled for a moment before seeing the deep green eyes boring into him and then he felt the nauseating tug of Apparition.

Draco stumbled along with Potter into the wall of his study. The ground had opened up again to swallow them into the void. Draco pressed Potter into the wall as they fought the onslaught of gravity.

After a few moments, Draco turned his head and stood up to look into Potter’s face. He was heaving and his heart was pounding and Potter was staring at him with wide and worried eyes, filled with anger and want. Draco didn’t care, just then, about anything else at all.

Potter opened his mouth to say something but Draco couldn’t allow him to break the pulling silence.

He leaned in and pressed their mouths together, kissing Potter for all he was worth and demanding just as much in return.

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A/N: So school is eating my life. I hate it.

Anyway, this chapter was odd. Oh well. Hope you liked it. :) I think you'll all be pleased with the next one *evil laugh* >:D YES.

Reviews= LOVE as always. *hearts you all*