Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.

Chapter the Thirty-seventh: So…what now?
The early hours of 6 January
Hogwarts, Room of Requirement

Sated, Harry played with Draco’s blond tresses as the other wizard lay on his chest.

“You have the most beautiful hair,” Harry said. “It’s so soft.”

Draco smiled against Harry’s chest. “Yours is soft too—I didn’t think it would be, it’s so wild.”

Draco could feel Harry’s chuckle. Then he heard Harry mutter, “Tempus.”

“What time is it?” he asked, not really caring.

“Half three,” Harry replied, “Do you…think we should go?”

Draco sat up, suddenly self-conscious. He knew this was what he wanted, what this evening had meant to him, but he didn’t know what it was to Harry. Suppose this was just a one-off for him and he was trying politely to get Draco up and moving, so he could be gone?

Realising his trousers were still halfway down his thighs, he flushed slightly and began awkwardly pulling them up. It wasn’t easy to do in his half-reclined position. Focusing on his task to avoid looking at Harry, Draco said, “Yeah, sure, we’d better go.”

For the first time in his life, Harry could read Draco like a book. He could see the sudden nerves and uncertainty in Draco’s expression and actions. He was puzzled for a moment, then replaying his words in his head, he thought he understood what Draco must be feeling.

“Draco, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Nothing,” the blond answered, still not looking at Harry.

Harry placed his hand on Draco’s jaw to turn his face towards him. Draco looked at him briefly, then dropped his gaze again.

“Draco, look at me, please. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Draco said, a tad defensively. “You said we should go, so I was getting ready to go.” So saying, he stood and finished doing up his trousers.

Harry tucked himself back into his jeans and stood as well.

“Draco,” he said, and waited until the other boy looked at him. Then he placed his hand on Draco’s face and kissed him. It wasn’t a hungry or greedy kiss; this was a passionate kiss meant to tell the recipient that he wasn’t a one-night stand.

Harry pulled back. “I didn’t say we should go. And I don’t want to go. I…don’t want you to go.”

Draco fought against the hope the kiss had put back in his chest. “So why did you ask if we should go?”

“I don’t know why I asked. Partly because…I’m nervous. I don’t know what you want. And, I guess I’m so used to having someone wanting to know where I am every second of every hour, that it’s…I don’t know, second nature to assume I’m being missed if I’ve been off on my own for any length of time. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” Harry sounded frustrated.

“So…you want to stay? You want me to stay?” Draco asked, hesitantly.

Harry looked back at him. “Yeah…but only if you want to.”

Draco smiled. “Yeah, I do. I’m in no hurry to curl up in my cold bed in the dungeons.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah? Well, good. Here, sit back down. There are still some things we should probably talk about.”

“Yeah, there are. Starting with that comment you made about being locked in a cupboard,” Draco said, remembering how Harry had distracted him earlier.

“Fine. In a minute,” Harry said, then closed his eyes. He opened them back up again. “Sorry, I was going to ask for coffee—then I realised I don’t know if you even like coffee. Do you? Or would you prefer tea?”

“Oh, coffee, please,” Draco said. “Have I really found another coffee drinker in this wretched tea-swimming castle? I swear, I thought Blaise and I were the only ones!”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, me too! Hermione and Ron drink almost as much tea as Dumbledore I think. I mean, I like tea, but I don’t particularly want more of it running through my veins than blood. Hold on a sec,” Harry closed his eyes again, concentrating. A steaming pot of coffee with two mugs, sugar and milk appeared on the table.

“Didn’t know how you took it, so I asked for both sugar and milk. What do you like?” Harry asked.

“Two sugars, please,” Draco replied, settling himself back more comfortably on the couch. Harry passed him his coffee, then sat back with his own.

“Ok, look. I’ll tell you about the cupboard, I promise. But there’s something else I want to know first,” Harry said, sipping at his coffee. He looked up at Draco a little nervously. “I want to know what this—us—is. I mean, I’d like to think we’re on our way to being friends, and I think, I hope this wasn’t just a one-off for you, but I don’t know…I guess I want to know what you think.” Harry fiddled with his barbell nervously, waiting for Draco to respond.

Tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight of Harry’s tongue, Draco did some fast thinking. ‘What should I tell him? Should I tell him how much I really want him, how long I’ve wanted him—or would that give him too much power? What if he laughed? No, I don’t think he’d laugh—he’s too…nice. Too Gryffindor.’ He laughed to himself. ‘What was that Dumbledore said? Oh yes, he’s too Harry. Shit, I’m not used to dealing with this ‘trusting people with my emotions’ crap. Well, I’ve gone this far, might as well keep going, I guess.’

Taking a hidden breath, Draco looked up from where he had been staring into his coffee. “It’s not a one-off for me. I…I meant what I said earlier. I’ve wanted you for…quite awhile now. But…I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to…I dunno…want me back, I guess.”

Harry smiled, partly in relief, partly at Draco’s hesitation. He was usually so self-assured. “I do want you. I wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t have...done things…with you, if I didn’t. I want to be with you, Draco. Like, together with you. Is that what you want?”

Draco smiled and nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly what I want.”

“But how do we do this? I mean, you’ve got to still keep your switch to the Light secret, don’t you? We can’t exactly be traipsing the hallways, holding hands and giggling, now can we?”

Draco snorted. “Please. I don’t giggle,” he said in a haughty tone. Then he sobered. “But, seriously, you’re right. Can we—can you—do this in secret? If you don’t want to, I understand, really—”

“No. I mean, yes, we can do this in secret. I want to be with you, Draco. I’d be with you openly if we could, but we can’t—it would be too dangerous for you. So—we’ll just keep it between the two of us.”

“It won’t be easy,” Draco warned. “What about your sidekicks? How do you plan on keeping it from them?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll think of something. What about your ‘bodyguards’? Won’t they be wondering where you disappear to if you’re off with me?”

“I’m…not sure. I haven’t been…hanging around with them as much lately. But…”

“But what?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure what to do about Blaise. He…” Draco hesitated, not sure if it was all right to tell Blaise’s secret. Then he decided you couldn’t find a safer person to tell than Harry Potter. “Ok, listen. No one else can know this, and I don’t even have permission to tell you, but I’m going to anyway. Blaise switched sides too.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Blaise? Blaise Zabini? Really? Wow. I mean, I don’t really know him, he’s always been sort of quiet. But I’m glad to have him on our side, if you are.”

“Oh, yes, he’s a really good person. It’s…been nice, having someone else know. Know that I’m not joining the Death Eaters. Someone I don’t have to act with, you know. But…I don’t know how to keep our…relationship…a secret from him. We’ve been keeping an eye on each other’s backs, so to speak. I’d have to tell him something when I went to meet you. Or he’d probably come looking for me.”

Harry considered. “Well, maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, maybe you should tell him—just Zabini. And I could tell Hermione. Then, there would be one person who knew where we were—and could, I dunno, it sounds bad, but cover for us if necessary. You know, if someone were looking for one of us. It would keep Hermione from searching the castle or driving me bats with questions too,” Harry said, grinning.

“All right. Just Blaise and Granger. What about The Weasel?” Draco asked.

Harry frowned at him. “Can you not call him that, please? He is my best mate, you know.”

“Fine. I’ll try my best, but don’t get mad if I slip up, it’s habit. What about Weasley then?” Draco said, looking slightly grumpy.

Harry smiled his thanks. “No, I won’t tell Ron. He’s not good with secrets and he really…well, I really don’t think he’d handle the news that I was sneaking off to snog you very well. But Hermione can keep him from being suspicious. She’s clever.”

“Yeah, she’s clever, I’ll give her that,” Draco said. “All right, so that’s settled.” Draco leaned over to pour himself more coffee. “Now—”

Harry placed his hand on Draco’s and pulled the mug free, setting it on the table.

“Now, we seal the bargain with a kiss, isn’t that how it’s done?” he said, eyes glinting mischievously. He slid closer to Draco on the couch and leaned in, taking Draco’s mouth in a warm kiss. Harry’s tongue slipped past Draco’s lips to entwine with Draco’s. He hummed in the back of his throat. “Ummmm, you taste like coffee.”

Draco certainly didn’t mind kissing Harry back, but he wasn’t going to be distracted with such a blatant ploy; he was, after all, a Slytherin.

“So do you,” he said, ending the kiss. “But that won’t work, Harry.”

“What won’t work?” Harry said, looking completely innocent.

Draco snorted. “That ‘I’m an innocent Gryffindor’ expression doesn’t play with me, Potter. No more avoiding the issue. I want to know what you were talking about earlier, when you said your family locked you in a cupboard for punishment.”

Harry sighed. “Fine,” He refilled his coffee and Draco’s own, then pulled Draco to rest back against his chest between his legs while he sprawled on the couch. “Might as well be comfortable.”

Draco snuggled back against him. “Umm, yes. Now stop stalling.”

Harry snorted. “Whatever. All right. Immediately after Voldemort killed my parents, Dumbledore gave me to my mum’s sister and her husband to raise. He thought it would be safer to have me away from the Wizarding World, since no one knew what had happened to Voldemort then. So I grew up with them, and my cousin Dudley. They weren’t real chuffed about having to raise me—I didn’t know it at the time, but my aunt hated my mum for being a witch. And they both hated my dad. They hated anything to do magic, really. They hoped they could…squash out…any magic I might have in me while I was still a child.

“I didn’t have a proper bedroom; I slept in a cupboard under the stairs. Whenever I did something wrong or something magical, they would lock me inside the cupboard as punishment. You know, like sending a kid to his room for punishment, I s’pose. That’s all.”

Draco wasn’t fooled by the short story. He twisted his head around to look at Harry. “No, I don’t think it is. How else did those rotten Muggles abuse you? Tell me, Harry; I want to know. Please—I want to know you, Harry.”

“Fine. But you have to tell me all about your life as well. Deal?” Harry asked.

“Deal,” Draco said, and reached up to pull Harry’s face to him for a kiss. “Now talk.” Draco settled himself back against Harry’s chest.

So Harry told Draco about having to wear Dudley’s huge hand-me-downs and having to cook and clean and do other chores for the Dursleys. He told of never getting birthday or Christmas gifts and being bullied by Dudley and his friends. He told of how he was locked in his room and wasn’t allowed any of his things from Hogwarts; how he fooled the Dursleys for a while by threatening them with magic, then later with his escaped-convict-murderer godfather; and how he looked forward every summer to when he’d be allowed to leave Privet Drive and go to the Burrow to stay with the Weasleys.

By the time Harry was finished, Draco was furious. He pulled away from Harry and slammed his mug on the table. “That’s horrible, Harry! I’m sorry, but I think the Dark Lord did the right thing, killing your aunt! I wish he’d killed them all! No, wait, I’m glad he didn’t because that leaves two for me to kill!”

Harry was shocked at Draco’s violent reaction. The few people he’d told about his childhood usually felt sorry for him, which he hated, and was why he didn’t usually tell anyone. But he’d never had anyone become so…enraged…about his treatment before. He was torn between being feeling grateful and being embarrassed.

“Draco, calm down. It’s not that big a deal. I mean, I got used to it. And it doesn’t matter any more, I never have to go back now, not since…wait,” Harry suddenly realised something. “What did you say? About Voldemort killing my aunt?” Harry grabbed Draco’s upper arm.

Draco was surprised…and a little nervous that the words he’d spoken so rashly had made Harry angry. “I said…I thought the Dark Lord did the right thing by killing your aunt. Harry, I know you—”

“Are you saying Voldemort himself killed my aunt? Not a Death Eater?”

Draco looked confused. “Well, yes. Harry, I’m sorry, I thought you knew. Didn’t Dumbledore tell you?”

Harry shook his head. “He only said she’d been killed in the Death Eater attacks. Besides, how would Dumbledore know? How do you know?”

“I Saw it, Harry. In my…dream, or whatever it was. I told you I…witnessed…the attacks on Hallowe’en. I just assumed Dumbledore told you,” Draco replied. “I guess…I guess he couldn’t tell you the details, though. You would have wanted to know how he knew. And he knew because of me. I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking. I wouldn’t have told you that way.”

“No, no. It’s all right,” Harry said. “I just didn’t realise that Voldemort himself killed my aunt. He must have really wanted to make sure she died to take care of it himself.”

“Why, Harry? I hadn’t given it much thought, but what the Dark Lord said to her in my vision never made any sense to me. Why did he want her dead so badly?” Draco asked.

Harry looked at Draco sharply. “What did he say to her? Tell me everything he said, Draco, please. Exactly what did he say?”

Draco closed his eyes in concentration. “He said…well, first he insulted her. Said your mum was prettier. Then he asked where your uncle and cousin were and had the house searched when she said they weren’t at home. It was…Lucius and Theodore’s Nott’s dad who searched. Wormtail was there too, but he stayed with the Dark Lord. When Lucius told him there was no one else there, the Dark Lord said he was disappointed not to be able to kill them too, but she—your aunt—was the one he really wanted. He said, ‘Lily Potter’s blood protection ends here. Good bye, Petunia.’ Then…he killed her with the Killing Curse,” Draco paused. “What did he mean by blood protection, Harry?”

“He meant the blood protection my mother gave me when she died protecting me. It’s some ancient blood magic. As long as I lived with my mother’s blood relation, I would be protected from Voldemort. That’s why I had to go back to the Dursleys’ every summer, to renew the protection,” Harry answered, looking sad. “My aunt was murdered because of me.”

Draco hesitated, then reached out a hand to Harry. For probably the first time since he was a child, Draco wanted to hug someone, but he wasn’t sure how, or if it would be welcomed. “I…I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t…think. I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was angry and…and…”

Harry looked at Draco and took his hand, pulling him in and wrapping his arms around him. “It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’ve never had anyone…get angry, on my behalf, I guess. It’s…sort of nice. Thanks.”

Draco was bemused to find himself being comforted by the person he had wanted to comfort. He pulled back.

“Harry, how is it that you can still care? The way you were raised, the way they treated you…how are you still able to care for them? For anyone?” Draco asked earnestly. He really wanted to know.

Harry looked embarrassed. “I don’t know. How the bloody hell am I supposed to answer that? Really, I don’t care that much about the Dursleys. I just…I don’t think anyone deserves to be murdered by that evil bastard, especially just because they’re related to me!

“It doesn’t matter how they raised me. It’s over and it’s done. I’ll likely never see Vernon or Dudley again, which is fine by me. I certainly won’t miss them! As for other people…of course I care about other people. I just…do. It doesn’t have anything to do with my growing up with the Dursleys.”

Draco looked at Harry in amazement. “Harry, you have no idea, do you? You really don’t see it.”

“See what?” Harry was confused.

“How wonderful you are. Other people, if they’d been raised by people like your family or neglected and abused like you, they’d be bitter. Or twisted. Or angry. But you’re not. You’re…just not and it amazes me,” Draco said earnestly, looking intently at Harry.

Harry shifted and fiddled with his piercing. He was embarrassed by Draco’s words. He didn’t think he was anything wonderful or amazing. He didn’t want to be. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

“Now I’ve made you uncomfortable. Sorry, but it’s true,” Draco said. Wanting to lighten the mood, he continued: “But that’s all right. When you get embarrassed or nervous, you play with that sexy barbell. I’m thinking I might have to embarrass you more often just so I can see you do that.”

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco. “Please, don’t get any ideas! Any time you want to see my tongue piercing, just ask!”

“Well then, Harry,” Draco said, leaning closer. “May I see your barbell?”

Harry grinned, then ran his tongue over his lips. “That good?” he asked playfully.

“Ummm…yeah. Wait…are those snakes on the barbell? That’s brilliant!” Draco grinned, then moved closer to Harry. “But, you know, I think feeling that barbell would be even better than seeing it,” Draco continued with a lascivious leer.

“Oh really?” Harry answered and brought his face within inches of Draco’s. “Where do you want to feel it? Here?” Harry ran his tongue over Draco’s lips. “Or here?” He ran a palm down Draco’s chest. “Or here?” His hand slid down to fly of Draco’s trousers.

Draco sucked in a breath. The combination of Harry’s breath on his face, his hands on his body and his lowered, sexy voice was so arousing. “All of the above,” he finally managed.

Harry captured Draco’s mouth before he was finished speaking. He used the barbell in his tongue to map the interior of Draco’s mouth, running it over Draco’s tongue, his lips, the inside of his cheeks, the roof of his mouth. Their tongues danced together and Draco groaned at the feeling of the little snakes on the ends of the barbell wiggling.

“Did…did you charm the snakes to move?” he said against Harry’s mouth. “Because I can feel them wiggling and it’s sooooo good.”

“You like that?” Harry murmured back. “Thought you might. Now shut up and kiss—ARGH!”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
A/N: Egad! Another cliffhanger! Sorry guys, I think I’m taking out my stress on y’all by writing cliffies! Thanks for the reviews—I’m glad the “they-finally-get-together” scene worked for y’all! It was fun to write. *grin* Many thanks to my most loyal reviewers—you know who you are!!!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^