What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 39 – Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You

Fiendfyre had nothing on this.

The magical flames would lick at your skin and set them ablaze, burning all of your life-force and demanding more than you can give just to sustain them. They would spread and sear at flesh and inorganic material alike, keeping no reservations and consuming everything and anything that came within proximity. They would grow into horrifying images and taunt you with living nightmares as a testament to your fears. They would attack and engulf you in a flaming embrace that could only be compared to the deepest circles of Hell.

But the fiendfyre was superficial and never managed to infiltrate the finer inner-workings of your body. It was purely a surface attack, never managing to burrow deep into your mind and set each of your senses ablaze with just the right cue.

But this was not fiendfyre and Draco had no way of knowing how he might survive this time.

He felt as though he was on fire from underneath his skin. Boiling sensations coursed through him and seared at his body as they shot like daggers through him. His mind was racing and his heart was pumping. Nothing could stop this and nothing would so long as he denied the very carnal instincts that controlled the reactions.

Harry Potter was standing only inches from him, their skin separated only by a sheer hanging curtain that seemed more like a ten foot brick wall than anything else. They were both naked. They were both staring determinately into one another’s eyes and refusing to look elsewhere.

But Draco’s resolve did not last long. He ignored the comment that Harry had made about needing to go and he pushed the curtain aside. The soft material skimmed both of them in the slow movement and Draco saw tiny bumps rise on Harry’s skin. A soft rush of warm air told the blond that Harry was having trouble controlling himself as well.

Draco took a half-step forward and stopped, the distance between them becoming dangerously short. He let his silver eyes wander down from Harry’s face to explore the rest of his uncharted body.

They were so different. Harry was covered in scars in strange shapes with dark meanings. The first that met Draco’s eyes was the odd circular one that burned itself a home just over Harry’s heart. There were little scars that trailed up from it, mimicking the look of a chain, but they were so faint and ill-formed that Draco couldn’t be sure.

He ventured further, marking down the specific details of the other man’s body in his mind for future usage. The next scar was on his forearm. It was simple and straight but Draco did not know the source and so it held more mysteries in its solemn line that Draco held in his entire being.

Perhaps.

Then his eyes found their way across Harry’s firm, flat stomach. He lingered momentarily on the dark trail of hair that pulled his attention down from his navel towards something far more deserving, but tore his eyes away and moved to the last noticeable scar that marred Harry’s gorgeous body.

The back of his hand was marked with the faint outline of what Draco imagined to be words. He thought he had an idea of where those came from but did not linger on that thought for long. It was the kind of knowledge that dredged up painful memories of the past that neither man desired to look back upon.

And so Draco let his grey eyes trace more invisible lines along the skin of the man before him, stopping once more on the circular scar over his chest. It called to him and cried his name, burning itself into his eyes and demanding that he move closer. It demanded that he touch it, that he taste it and make both their bodies one entity.

Draco wanted so much to give in and obey but he could not. He pulled his eyes away and ran his hand through his soft blond locks as a distraction. He couldn’t have Harry now and he couldn’t have him later. They were not for one another. He had already made a foolish mistake. He had already pushed him away and would continue to do so.

Draco had to. For both of them. Nothing good could come from their being this close, from wanting one another this badly, from giving in to the dangerous and torturously seductive calls of the flesh.

“After you,” he finally responded to Harry’s previous statement. The words were laced with suggestion and he reveled in the quick swipe of Harry’s tongue across his lip before he nodded and walked out first.

Draco took a moment to admire every detail of the other side of Harry’s body. He licked his own lips and struggled hard against the blood flow that threatened to out him. He became painfully aware of the fact that he was naked and had nothing to hide his own excitement if and when it came. He forced himself to think of something else and searched the walls for an image adequate enough to destroy his arousal.

His eyes fell on the face of Ginny Weasley and then all was fine.

At least until the thought of how she must be turning over in her grave at the idea of Harry and him together hit him. Then he was quite excited again in a totally different way. He smirked darkly, ignoring the fact that he knew it couldn’t happen.

They ventured back outside and the bright sunlight caressed Draco’s body like an old lover he hadn’t seen in decades. The warmth of it was relaxing and he angled his neck to stretch the muscles, his eyes closing comfortably until he realized that Harry was watching him.

The green eyes burned into him and he could hear the softly ragged breath come from Harry’s mouth as he jerked his head away, needing to distract himself as well. He didn’t let the smirk fade, but it did not grow either as they approached Luna and Rolf once more. The two others did not look at them any differently then they might have if Draco and Harry had been dressed in formal robes for a dinner.

Draco appreciated the courtesy though something about Rolf bothered him. He looked at the other blond man in distaste, though nothing of it showed on his face. He did not like him much.

Sure, he was blond and blue-eyed. He was tall and well-built with a welcoming smile and a kind demeanour but Draco could not like him. He could not like him as long as there was the possibility that Harry was comparing him to Draco. He could not like Rolf as long as it was plausible that Harry’s attention was drawn to this other man instead of him.

“Your wands, please?” Luna asked happily, holding out a purple velvet bag.

“We can’t take our wands?” Harry asked, seeming rather apprehensive. Draco couldn’t help but find amusement in the fact that his voice peaked strangely as he considered the idea of not only being naked but without protection.

“You’ll have them with you,” she explained airily, always with a smile. “But it’s best not to carry them in like swords. You should only use them if you have dire need.”

Harry nodded gravely and he and Draco both held out their wands to place in the bag. Draco’s hand brushed Harry’s as they slid the long pieces of wood into the sac and he felt his cheeks burn. He looked away, knowing that it was his wand that caused the awkwardness between them.

But could that be undone now? Could it be possible for Harry to see past that moment of inconsiderate selfishness?

Should he?

Draco set his face and tried not to look at Harry. He wanted him so badly, wanted to do terrible things to him but he couldn’t.

He needed to push away and give Harry back his life. He needed to stop being the catalyst for grief in Harry’s life.

“What else have you got in there?” Draco asked, trying to distract himself from his own haunting thoughts.

“Just a few things you’ll be needing,” she replied happily, slinging the bag over her shoulder and spinning with a skip to lead them down a trail.

Rolf walked alongside her and Draco rolled his eyes, his gaze falling to the less-than-perfect sculpture of Rolf’s body. He scrutinized the skin like a jeweler scrutinizes a precious gem, searching restlessly for imperfections.

He had scars as well. Scratches and wounds from walking around naked all the time, no doubt. He had lines that traced a curved trail up from the back of his knee to somewhere on the inside of his thigh. He had the outline of a jaw marked into his left shoulder from having been attacked by something with very jagged teeth. He had other markings in different places but they were not the same as the scars that Harry bore.

They held no meaning, no interest to Draco. He studied them closer and found that nothing about these marks called to him. He did not wish to know their origin. He did not wish to count the markings, nor to touch them or feel them. He had no inclination to move closer to Rolf as they walked and paid no mind to Luna’s body at all.

Then something sunk in on Draco’s mind that had been growing like a shadow in his mind for some time. His brows furrowed and his heart clenched as he realized it.

He had eyes for no one at all other than Harry. He wanted no other person, no man nor woman. He wanted nothing more than his body and soul sought out Harry Potter.

They continued walking. Draco spent most of the time trying deftly to push all thoughts out of his head. He could not concentrate at all on the forest that surrounded them. He did not notice the strange colours that certain leaves had taken. He did not notice the oddly colourful birds that chirped from the knotted limbs that hung above them. He paid no mind to the unidentified creatures that scurried across the path and around inside of the woods.

He did not notice the large winged creature that suddenly burst into the pathway in front of Harry and Draco. As Draco looked up, his steely eyes met with the dark orbs of a nightmare. He tensed until he might have been made of stone and jolted back, his face wrought with fear.

Harry’s arms immediately found their way around him and pulled him aside to protect him from the creature.

Draco was still shaking from the tension in his muscles and he looked back to see Harry staring the bloody thing down.

God did he hate Hippogriffs.

Harry bowed carefully to the creature and it stared at him long and hard. Finally, after an interminable length of time, the bird-brained beast knelt a scaly knee to Harry and inclined its head.

Draco shuddered. He had vowed never to bow to another one of those brutes ever again after third year. Harry turned to him and gave him a pleading look. Neither of them had their wands and Luna and Rolf stood off in the distance. They said nothing but nodded encouragingly to him as his breathing sharpened.

He stood up straighter and looked directly into the eyes of his personal demon. His face did not betray his discomfort or disgust, but he did not look very welcoming either. He took a moment, wishing he had paid closer attention in Care of Magical Creatures (and then remembering why he hadn’t), before slowly bending his back down to bow to the damn beast.

He looked back up at the thing and straightened slightly again but waited patiently for the return bow. The half-bird cocked its head to the side. It was copper in colour and thankfully looked to be a different type than Buckbeak had been. Draco counted the time by the tick of his beating heart and hoping with every passing moment that the damn thing would simply incline its head to him so he could be off.

The Hippogriff gave him a disgruntled look (or so it seemed to Draco) and finally nodded its head down to him, only partially bending its knee. Draco let out a deep sigh and stood upright again. He kept his mouth tightly shut for fear of accidentally insulting the thing like the last time.

Not that the last time had been an accident…

“Draco,” Harry’s soft voice came from next to him. A warm hand grasped at his shoulder and anchored him. “It’s alright. We can go now.”

Draco nodded distractedly, trying not to concentrate on the touches that Harry was giving him. The moment he felt the other man’s hand on his shoulder he wanted it to touch him everywhere. He wanted Harry’s skin pressed against him and he wanted to explore that body. He let out a soft groan and jerked away from the touch, walking past the feathery beast and towards Luna and Rolf.

He felt the impenetrable cold fall between the two of them as he walked away from Harry and it tore at his heart. He couldn’t give in and make Harry more miserable, though, could he?

They walked on and finally reached the edge of a small grove. The trees parted and spread around a small body of water too large to be a pond but too small to be a lake. A light trickling waterfall played soft music from the uneven stone face that rose up from the ground. They were near the edge of a mountain of some kind and Draco was not aware there was one.

The flowers and plants that grew around the area were of all different colours and shapes. The flower petals reminded him of his younger days when he still hadn’t faced the horrors of war or even the rejection of the most famous boy in the world. He felt calmer and more at peace with the world but it wasn’t until he realized that there was a soft music playing in the background that he knew the cause.

He cast his glance skyward and instead met the trees. His eyes jumped from one bird to the other and he knew why these Phoenixes were so different than the usual ones.

Everyday Phoenixes were orange in colour and mimicked the look of flames with their plumage and shape. These, however, did not quite do that.

There were seven of them and each was a different colour. There was an orange bird, a yellow one and a red one, but the most striking sight was the tree that held the four other Phoenixes. One of them was white with pink details along its feathers. Another was painted in shades of purple. Another was blue and the last was green.

They all sang together in an eerie harmony. Their tunes were not all the same and the notes that they hit were not in the same octave but as they sang together they formed the most beautiful melody that Draco had ever heard.

They all stopped in the small clearing and stared up in awe at the rainbow birds that perched nearby and serenaded them with their song. Draco relaxed and let all the worries he had wash away so that he might be filled with the music.

“They don’t seem to be bothered at all by you being here,” Luna sighed pleasantly. She took the bag from her shoulder and opened it to pull out a soft blue blanket.

“I suppose that is a good thing,” Draco murmured, still enthralled by the song. Harry stood at his side, his cheeks tinged with pink. His emerald eyes strayed down from the trees and slowly lead up to Draco’s. It was only then that the blond realized that he hadn’t been looking at the Phoenixes for a while.

They stared at one another for a long moment, letting the music fill them and cover the uncomfortable silence that otherwise would have set up camp between them. Draco felt himself tearing as he stared at the other man. He didn’t want to hurt Harry. He couldn’t.

“Well, everything’s set up,” Luna proclaimed happily. “We’ll get going to let you two do what you need to.”

Draco was abruptly reeled back to reality at Luna’s words and he thought on the specific terms she chose. He gaped.

“You’re leaving?” he asked sounding rather more desperate than he wanted to.

“It’s best if there are fewer of us here,” she explained. “It will allow you to feel more comfortable and begin to understand what you need to do.”

Draco stared. Luna was far more direct in what she was saying and yet, still, it meant nothing to him. Why could she not simply tell them what they had to do? Why all the secrecy??

“Luna…” Harry began, apparently feeling just as disconcerted as Draco. “We don’t know how to make Phoenixes cry… how are we supposed to figure it out without you?”

The blonde woman gave them both a rather mischievous look and grinned pleasantly.

“I’ve outlined what I can tell you,” she said pulling a piece of parchment from her bag. “And you should read the first story in this book.” She then pulled out a very thick volume. It looked centuries old and the bindings were cracking and tearing in places as though it had been read countless times and lived through all of history.

Draco gave her an odd look but Harry’s face dropped immediately. He shifted uncomfortably and shook his head. Draco watched him curiously and then glanced back at the book.

“Luna,” Harry began softly. “Are those the Tales of the Beedle Bard?”

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A/N: AH ok so my life turned upside-down and blahblah, but I’m back in business now and will be posting regularly again! YAY!

Well, I hope you’re excited about it anyway. Teehee.

I went to see Damien Rice yesterday in concert and it was bloody brilliant, as he always is. Filled me with some new ideas too. I have lots planned for this and I’m a little frightened. As it stands, if I keep writing in this one story, it might end up longer than Memoirs, which is insane. So this is my question: would you like me to split it up into sequels? Or would you prefer that I simply continue it under the one title? Either way, the story won’t change, just the way you read it, so this all depends on what you all prefer!

And, in regards to Teddy and many of the other Weasleys, yes they haven’t been mentioned much. This is partly to show just how obsessive Harry can become, but there are also many other reasons for it as well. Everyone will play their part. I followed the Epilogue as closely as I could (while taking my own liberties with it) and only disregarded things of very slight importance when it suited me.

And as for Ron and Hermione… all will be explained about them soon too. I hope you all enjoy it all!

Fun fun things to come and another chapter tonight because I am determined and have ENERGY again! YAY!

Love and so many thanks to all who review and have kept up!