What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 36 – No Love, No Glory

Draco did not look up at Harry, but his eyes remained glued to the long piece of Hawthorn that once belonged to him. He was burning with several emotions. He was literally burning. He felt as though the sofa would simply explode into a single lick of flames and then turn to ash. His eyes pulled at the wand as though demanding that it simply return itself to him.

He was so concentrated on the object that he did not actually notice Harry leaning over to pick it up until it was gone from before his eyes. He snapped his attention to the dark haired man and clenched his jaw. Harry had a very mischievous glint in his eyes and the kind of sneer on his face that would make any Malfoy proud.

“Potter,” he said with warning in his tone. “Give me back my wand.”

Harry turned his head and gave Draco a sidelong look, the aggravating smirk still in place. His lips curled more fully and the mischief in his eyes flickering like a growing flame.

“No, I don’t think so,” he hissed lowly, the words reminding Draco of Parseltongue. He shivered. “It’s been something of a comfort to me, you see,” he went on, stroking the long piece of wood suggestively as he went. Perhaps Harry didn’t realize what he was doing, but Draco did and it immediately caused a rush of heat down his stomach. His silver eyes followed Potter’s fingers as they caressed his former wand. “And as you remember: winners keepers.”

Draco’s eyes burned into Harry’s fingers as they twisted gently around the tip of the wood. So many terrible thoughts flashed dangerously in his mind and urged him to act. He swallowed hard, his throat getting dry and his heart racing as all the blood in his body decided to accumulate in one specific area.

“You’ll give me my wand back, Potter,” he ordered, his voice hoarse but making no movement to take it from the other man. Harry shook his head darkly.

“No, I won’t give it to you.” The green flashed treacherously and Harry’s smile deepened. His voice became low and sultry. “You’ll have to take it from me.”

And then, the voices that urged Draco to act got their wish. He lunged forward at Harry. The movement he made was quick and unreadable. Harry, who had obviously thought Draco was going to use magic to get his wand back, had made a move for his own wand and thus been caught off-guard by the physical attack.

Draco and Harry tumbled from the couch, landing on top of one another. Draco groaned softly as he felt himself pressing down on Harry. He had fallen between Harry’s legs and his stomach was against the other man’s hips. Draco made a grab for the wand, but Harry pulled it out of his way and then Draco felt something else.

He hesitated in his struggle, feeling something hard pressing into his stomach. His eyes widened briefly as he realized that it was Harry and a brilliantly evil idea formed in his mind.

Harry was holding on tightly to the wand, his hands above his head and out of Draco’s reach. The blond decided to take a different approach. He slid his palms up Harry’s arms and fastened his grip on the other man’s wrists, pinning them to the floor. All the while, he pulled himself up, rubbing his body hard against Harry’s and eliciting an unwilling whimper from him.

Draco smirked as their hips met and his own hardness pressed against Harry’s. The former Gryffindor’s eyes widened and he gasped, twitching as he realized that he was completely pinned and at Draco’s mercy.

Draco leaned in, arching his neck until their noses were pressed together and their lips brushed so slightly that the sensation of it was more like torture than anything else. The minute distance between their mouths was charged with want and tension. Draco’s refusal to kiss Harry was like fighting to keep two polar magnets apart.

Harry’s lips parted as if to encourage the kiss, but rather than obey, Draco bucked his hips against Harry, forcing the other man’s legs further apart. A soft whimper escaped his lips as Harry tried to fight back, clearly unwilling to simply be dominated in any way. His eyes were half-lidded but Draco saw the defiance and the drive that maintained their game.

He would not give in easily.

But Draco was not about to give up. He slowly gyrated his waist, pressing their erections together through the cumbersome material of their trousers. He felt himself strain against the fabric and bit down the moan that was growing in his throat. He would not. He could not.

Harry’s breath ghosted across his face as he wriggled his hands, trying to get free of Draco’s grasp. The blond couldn’t tell if it was simply to maintain the game and get himself free, or if Harry’s true intention was to join in the fun and pull Draco into a kiss. The look in his turbulent green eyes could indicate either or both.

Finally, as he moved against Harry and began to lose his own control at the feelings, Draco pressed his mouth down against Harry’s lips, cutting off his gasp. Their tongues crashed together and they bit and sucked at one another as though it was what they were meant to do. The distance closed, nothing would stand in the way of their embrace.

Harry’s hands battle waned and Draco’s fingers snaked up to entwine with his fingers. They held the kiss, tasting one another as fully as possible and writhing against one another, for what felt like ages.

This had not been part of Draco’s initial plan but he could not resist. The pull between them was far too powerful for him to ignore and his heart raged against his chest, begging for more.

Then, as Harry angled his head back to pull Draco closer, his fingers loosened just enough and the blond pulled away, his Hawthorn wand held triumphantly in his hands. He got up and looked back down at Harry with a malevolent grin.

“I told you you would give it back,” he sneered softly, his tone thick with dissatisfaction and the need he had to forget the wand and finish ravaging Harry properly.

Harry, however, was looking up at him, still lying on the ground and breathing heavily, with an indecipherable expression. He looked both infinitely hurt and incredibly demanding. Draco felt something pierce his heart.

Harry got to his feet slowly and picked up his things. He turned to the fireplace and looked back at Draco for only a moment before stepping in.

“I’ve got to go,” he said softly, his expression still the same. “Call me once you’ve talked to Luna.”

Then he left, leaving both Draco and his Firebolt behind.

*******

Harry hugged Lily and tucked her into bed. He had read her one of the Tales of the Beedle Bard (The Tale of the Three Brothers as –somehow –it was her favourite) and kissed her forehead. Smiling at her little form as she fell asleep, Harry felt reassured and less tainted when he gazed upon his daughter. She was still so pure and unencumbered by fear and the pressure of life. She was free.

Harry left her room, making sure to cast the usual protective spells around her, and walked out into the sitting room. All around him there were family pictures that included Ginny and each and every one of them taunted him and judged him. The eyes cut through him and shamed him for his feelings, for his detachment from her and his betrayal.

He sank into his armchair and ran a hand down his chest to his navel. The simple movement reminding him immediately of Draco. The feelings had been so strong. Everything that had happened that day they fought the Basilisk both excited him and frightened him.

What did that all mean?

The images of Draco being constricted by the snake were terrifying. He couldn’t let Draco die. Something stronger than what pushed him to save Draco’s life in the Room of Requirement was pushing him then. Something far more powerful.

And then the feeling of Draco’s lips just millimetres from his own and the pressure of Draco’s erection against his own.

He couldn’t stand to think of it without feeling himself getting hard again. He did not want to think this way.

He couldn’t just let these things happen could he? He couldn’t simply accept that he was attracted to Draco Malfoy this way.

Could he?

No…

Besides, Draco had only used his feelings against him. He had abused of Harry’s reactions to his movements in order to take the wand. He had taken advantage of Harry in such a physical way…

Harry both paled and blushed simultaneously, thinking on Ron’s words about Draco and how he would use him. But he was such a different person than that… wasn’t he?

“Argh, I’ll never understand this!” Harry burst out, fisting his hair. “Why does he have to be so bloody complicated to understand??”

And Harry dropped his head and stood there heaving silently. What a right great fool he was. Even if Draco wasn’t going to use him, he knew that the blond would never feel the same way about him. He couldn’t and didn’t. That much was made clear by his abuse of power when he got his wand back.

He felt sick to his stomach, wanting so badly for things to be different, for things to be simpler. He wanted to feel like he wasn’t betraying Ginny, like his two boys were going to just get along, like he didn’t have to fight his best friends at every turn in his feelings and like Draco would just care about him.

--My lover, says the Basilisk… if he only knew Draco.—

Harry leaned back against the chair and bit his lip, wondering when it was that it happened. When it became easy to accept that he felt things for Draco Malfoy. Felt things that he should have felt for his wife…

*******


Draco cursed himself as he stepped onto the third floor of St Mungo’s. He was meeting with Luna today to get whatever information he could from her about Phoenixes. Most of the firebirds were not native to England. They came from China and surrounding areas under normal circumstances but Draco knew he had heard her mention something about them.

Yet, despite how important his meeting was, Draco’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. He knew he had made a mistake in the way he went about getting his wand back. Harry, the true Gryffindor, probably saw it as some sordid attempt to abuse of him.

He probably hated Draco now… or perhaps he was just disappointed in that utterly destructive way that people we care about can be. Either way, he wanted to apologize, to make it up to him, to offer something of a proof of his feelings but Draco was not the kind to do that.

He was too proud –though of what, he did not know –and too stubborn to give in so easily. This, he knew, would be the flaw in his relationship with Harry and ultimately destroy it. It always did.

He sighed and walked down the hall towards Luna’s office, all the while longing to feel Harry’s lips against his once more, just for a moment. He wanted that taste, that smell, that feel. He wanted everything about Harry and wondered if he could live without it now that he had tasted it once.

“Good morning, Draco,” Luna greeted cheerily as he stepped through her door. She was wearing her trademark radish earrings along with a long white chain. The chain had several different vegetable charms along it and was likely an amulet of some kind. Perhaps to protect her from rabbits.

Or something odd of the like.

“Hello, Luna,” he replied, sitting himself down in front of her. Her desk was not arranged in the normal fashion of an office. She had cauldrons stationed around the room and her desk was made of unrefined wood, sitting off in a corner. She sat facing the wall and her guests would sit at the side of the desk, next to a row of cauldrons glowing strange colours.

There were diagrams of Thestrals, Vereorns (in different forms) and several other creatures that Draco did not recognize. The posters each identified the parts of the creatures that were helpful in potionmaking and healing.

“Have you been neglecting your inner-demons, Draco?” Luna asked abruptly, looking at him in all seriousness. He cocked his head to the side and tried to understand the question before shaking it off. There was no way he was going to see into that.

“No,” he replied simply, feeling it best to move on quickly. “Luna I need to ask you about Phoenixes.”

She sat back and smiled at him, nodding with her wide eyes trained on his forehead and not on his eyes. He blinked.

“Yes, I imagined you would,” she explained, rifling through some papers.

“I see,” he went on, unsure of what she meant. “You mentioned in passing that there is a nest of Phoenixes near your house? Is that true?”

“Absolutely,” she replied happily. “We don’t visit them much but they are wonderful to have around. Their songs keep away the Griffthorns and protect our vegetable patches. Also beautiful music, really.”

Draco nodded along with her words, wondering how much he should believe. He licked his lips and forced his thoughts not to go back to Harry.

“Do you know of any way to get them to cry?” he asked, deciding that beating around the bush would only get him dirty and covered in leaves. Luna’s expression did not change at all.

“I do,” she answered but said nothing else. She blinked at him and waited vacantly for him to continue. Draco shifted in his seat.

“Well, I need Phoenix tears, you see,” he explained, then bit himself for the explanation. “Harry Potter and I are working on something and we need Phoenix tears for it. Would it be possible for us to visit this group and get them to cry?”

Luna considered him for a moment, the smile on her face never wavering but shifting slightly from simple happiness to something more.

“It is very possible,” she answered, amused. “Though I don’t think you are going to like it.”

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A/N: Ooooo what's in store? I enjoyed writing this. I did. What is going to happen now? I hope it all came out ok... I liked writing this but it did require some extra effort so... I'm unsure.

Anyway. If any of you have ever heard of Wizard Rock, I highly suggest you listen to the songs "Draco and Harry" by The Whomping Willows (I think) and then "In Which I Kick Harry Potter In The Face" by Draco and the Malfoys. They rock. Seriously.

I'm a nerd, but it's so so funny. Yes. Anyway, I'll shut up hehehe. *LOVE*