Blue Eyed Dragon

Author's Notes: I'd like to thank my beta(s) for doing such a wonderful job editing my story and for putting up with me and my fussiness! If I owned the characters, I wouldn’t be writing FAN fiction. Please don’t sue. I love reviews so any and all (good/bad/undetermined) are welcome!

***
CHAPTER FOUR

Days had passed since he’d walked out of Draco’s sleeping quarters and Harry was starting to get worried. Had he said or done something to make him upset? To make him feel like he would betray and turn his back on him? If he had, it certainly hadn’t been intentional. Harry had just wanted Draco to feel as if there was someone there for him no matter what.

Harry sighed. He needed to get his mind off of everything and lately, and much to his disappointment, flying and Quidditch hadn’t helped him very much.

Wandering aimlessly about the castle, Harry let his mind roam.

Why are you suddenly being so nice to him? Because you know how it feels to feel alone, no matter how many people are around you. And you know what it’s like to lose your parents. You have more in common with him than you think, Potter.

That last thought surprised him.

It scared him, too.

Soon, Harry found himself walking around the lake. The breeze coming off of the water was cool and its tranquility drew Harry’s mind away from the rest of the world and helped him think a bit more.

So I have a lot in common with him. So what? I always have. Why all of a sudden start being nice to him?

But Harry already knew that answer. It was because Draco was finally letting Harry be nice to him.

Harry sat down at the base of a gigantic tree that was overlooking the choppy, the black water of the lake as he let his mind wander further into his thoughts.

Soon, though, his mind was so full of questions and thos ths that Harry needed a way to get (and keep) them straight.

“Accio journal,” he beckoned and within seconds, his Gryffindor-red journal Hermione had given him for his eighteenth birthday zoomed towards him and into his outstretched hand. He opened to a fresh page and started writing.

A few days ago everything was normal. And then I had to go flying at 2am because of the bloody nightmares.

I don’t know why Malfoy started to confide in me. I don’t know how I got him to. And I don’t know why, but I wish I could do it again. It’s driving me bloody mad! Why did he clam up all of a sudden? I feel like I did something to betray him. But how? The only things I could have used were what he told me and I haven’t repeated those to anyone. Not even Ron or ‘Mione ― and I tell them everything! Why does he have to be such a bloody, stupid, stubborn arse?! And why do I care so much? This is Malfoy I’m talking about!

Oh fuck it, Potter. You care because he reached out to you and you’re falling for the damn-sexy bloke!

Harry stopped writing and blinked.

Did those words really just flow out of his quill? He looked at the page again.

Yup. He’d definitely written that Draco Malfoy was a “damn-sexy bloke”.

Did he mean it? Did he really feel that way about his childhood enemy?

Harry paused for a second.

Double yup. He really thought that Draco was sexy.

But why did Harry feel that way about Draco?

***

Draco pulled the list of potions ingredients he needed to buy out of his pocket. He still needed ginger roots, jobberknoll feathers, and doxy eggs so he headed for Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.

On his way there he, started to think about what was happening lately.

You need to explain yourself to him! He was a Gryffindor for a reason. They’re courageous and loyal and trustworthy. At least tell him why you can’t open up to him more. He deserves that.

Draco forced the thoughts out of his head as he walked through the Apothecary’s door.

Draco browsed the quaint shop for a few minutes, picking up the jobberknoll feathers and doxy eggs that he needed and eyeing the other ingredients that he didn’t.

After circling the store three times without spotting the ginger roots he still needed, he walked up to the counter to ask Emma if she had any in the back storeroom.

Emma was a beautiful, middle-aged witch with brilliant violet eyes that were accented by her collarbone length chestnut brown hair. She had high cheekbones and a gorgeous smile that made her eyes become even brighter. In fact, if Draco didn’t fancy men, he’d ask her on a date.

“Hi there, Draco. What can I do for you?”

“Hi Emma, I was looking for ginger roots. You don’t happen to have any in the back, do you?”

“No. I sold the last of my supply yesterday. But I’ll add it to your bill today and send it up to you with my owl when it comes in on Friday.”

“That’d be great. Thanks, Love.”

After paying for the potions ingredients, Draco strolled back out to Diagon Alley and headed for the Leaky Cauldron.

“Hi there, Tom. A butterbeer, please.” Draco… requested?

But as Draco pondered why he said, of all things, the ‘P’ word, and to Tom the innkeeper, Tom, himself, said, “Sure thing, Draco!”

While he waited for Tom to bring him his drink, Draco sat at a table in the very back corner of the pub. Leaning back in his chair, Draco sat there for hours observing Tom’s patrons and thinking. He knew he was being a git.

Are you really? You trusted your best friend with your biggest secret in school and where did it get you, Malfoy? You became an outcast! The laughing stock of Hogwarts!

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin.

When he looked up, he was staring into the emerald pools of Harry Potter.

The relief in Draco’s eyes was obvious. He suddenly became aware of what Harry just said. Confused, Draco asked, “What’s a ‘penny’?”

Harry burst out laughing. “Sorry, Dray,” Harry said when he saw the hurt expression on the blond wizard’s face. “A penny is a form of Muggle money. Muggles use that saying as another way of asking what you’re thinking.”

“Oh,” Draco replied, crinkling his nose a bit.

Merlin he’s cute when he does that!

“Well, you’re going to be awfully sore if you stand while I tell you,” he said as he kicked the chair closest to Harry out from under the table.

Harry sat down next to his colleague. “So what’s up?”

After Draco had told Harry everything he’d been thinking just before he’d walked up, he added, “I know it’s not fair to judge you by Blaise’s actions, Harry. It’s just that that’s all I have to base anything like that on.”

“I get that, Dray. But think of it this way: if you don’t give anyone else a chance then that’s all you’ll ever have to base these things on. And maybe it’s just me but you seem pretty miserable like this.” Harry gave Draco a comforting smile.

Damn him and his intoxicating smile!

“Look, it’s getting late. Walk back to the castle with me. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want but it’s nice to have company anyway.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

***

The term had started a week ago and Dracs has having a hard time concentrating.

He and Harry had spent a considerable amount of time together since they had run into each other in the Leaky Cauldron. They’d played Quidditch, talked about their memories of Hogwarts-both during the terms and holidays. And they’d shared their first real kiss. Though he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, Draco replayed the moment in his head for the eighth time that day.

(flashback)

“Tell me about your mum, Dray,” Harry said.

The blond man glared at the other wizard sitting across from him on his bed.

“Sorry,” Harry replied to the glare, sending a small smile, letting the other man know he really meant it. “You just never mention her. You always talk about Lucius… I feel like I know him. I want to know your mum.”

Draco hesitated for a moment then took a deep breath and began to answer Harry’s request.

“I don’t really know Narcissa. I remember her laughing all the time when I was a little boy. We’d sit in the Manor’s gardens and she’d watch me as I made things happen without realizing it. She’d hold me and rock me to sleep under the gazebo before carrying me to my bedroom for the night. But when I turned five, Lucius had me starting my “trainin#821#8213; I had to learn how to act, speak, think, and be a Malfoy. I would wake up from terrifying nightmares and she would sing to me until I fell back asleep. But the dreams stopped when I was nine.” Draco paused sadly. “And so did the singing.

“Right before Lucius was killed, she stole me away for an afternoon.” He continued, trying to make his voice conversational. “She told me that she loved me ― that she always had ― because I was her little boy. ‘You’ll always be my little boy,’” Draco remembered. He took a deep breath and went on. “She told me that Lucius used to threaten her if she interfered with his raising me ‘properly’.

“She kicked me out right after the Death Eaters left the Manor,” Draco continued, no longer able to keep the tone of his voice. Tears slowly began to slide down his cheeks.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s slim waist and pulled him into a comforting hug. Draco rested his head on Harry’s shoulder as he kept telling his story.

“A few weeks after, my grandmother checked Mum into St. Mungo’s. She’d loved my father so deeply that losing him drove her insane.” Draco sniffled a bit and Harry tightened his grip around the other man. They sat there like that for a long time, until long after Draco had stopped crying.

“I should get going,” Harry said into the top of Draco’s head. Draco pulled away slowly, reluctant to give up the warm feeling he had from being in Harry’s strong and comforting arms. Eventually, though, he did and he walked Harry to the door.

“Thanks for listening.” Draco smiled a bit, “Again,” He added, opening the door for his departing guest.

“Anytime.” Harry began to walk out the door.

Draco softly, but firmly said, “Wait a second, Harry.”

The dark haired wizard turned around. “Yeah?”

Draco stepped forward and kissed Harry full on the lips. The kiss was tender but assertive and Harry immediately fell into it. He wrapped his arms back around Draco’s waist and pulled his firm body into his own. Draco’s arms slipped up around Harry’s muscular neck as his tongue lightly danced over Harry’s bottom lip, requesting entrance. Harry didn’t disappoint it. He slightly opened his mouth to accept Draco’s tongue and the two men deepened the kiss steadily. The kiss was a passionate one and when the two men broke apart, they were both breathless.

“Dinner. Next Saturday at seven. Muggle London. Blue Door Bistro. 15 Montague Street. Apparate to the alley next to it. I’ll meet you there,” said Harry.

He pecked Draco’s lips once more then left without giving Draco time to respond to his dinner invitation.

(end flashback)

That was two days ago and Saturday was still three days away. Draco couldn’t help but be anxious. He, Draco Malfoy, had a date with none other than Harry Potter. He considered this for a few minutes when another, more pressing, thought poppnto nto his head: What was he going to wear!?

***

Harry, too, had been going over that night in his mind time and time again.

He remembered every detail of the night: how Draco’s nose crinkled when Harry made a reference to something Muggle, how his eyes glowed when he talked of Quidditch… and his mum. Harry remembered how soft Draco’s lips had beeninstinst his own, how right it had felt to hold his body so close and how sweet he had tasted. Harry also remembered how Draco’s lips had made him feel like there was nothing else going on in the world, that everything was absolutely perfect and that he was genuinely cared for. Harry could have stayed in the blond man’s arms forever.

Despite all this, however, Harry was worried. Would Draco meet him in the alleyway to the Bistro? If he did, what would happen? When Harry had asked, or rather, demanded ― there was no asking involved ― Draco, his mind was still clouded by the mind-blowing kiss that they’d just shared. Now that he thought about it without the cloud of pure, undiluted lust, Harry didn’t even know what his own intentions really were.

What did you intend to do, Potter? Take him to the Bistro under the pretense of supper and then just shag the bloody hell out of him in the alley? No. He most definitely did not.

But then what? Harry tossed the question around in his head for a few minutes but before he came up with an answer that made any kind of sense, it was time for his next lesson.

Harry sighed as he gathered the materials he would need.

I’ll definitely have to think about it tonight, he resolved to himself.

I need some sort of answer before Saturday!

That night, Harry was so completelyaustausted when he slipped into his sleeping quarters that he fell into bed totally clothed. But the questions from earlier still plagued him.

Just a friendly dinner, he finally told himself in a tone that was trying more to convince him than to answer the question.

The kiss was wonderful but he may be having regrets… you never know. So go there with no intentions and you won’t be disappointed.

Satisfied with that answer, Harry let himself drinto nto a sweet dream about all of the possibili tha that Saturday night could bring.