What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 43 – Nothing Unusual, Nothing’s Changed

The sun was low on the horizon and thick rays of light streamed through the threes. It was warm on his skin, but the light breeze kept him cool. The ground was soft and uneven beneath him but there was a soothing weight that sat comfortably against him. His eyelids fluttered between open and closed for a few moments as sleep drifted in and away from him. He sighed.

The weight against him was warm and smooth. He brought a hand up distractedly and ran his fingers over the soft form next to him. A soft humming came from somewhere unseen and he smiled through his daze. Something about this all was perfect. Or rather, everything was perfect. The warmth of the evening air was perfect. The cool wind that blew over him was perfect. The deadening comfort that spread through his limbs; the unspoken name that lingered on his tongue; the reassuring hum next to him; the beautiful ivory skin that he continued to explore with his fingertips; the soft blonde hair that lightly tickled his nose. Perfect.

What?

Harry opened his eyes and, slowly but surely, realization set in. He froze in his ministrations for a moment, suddenly aware that his hands were around Draco’s body, skillfully drawing intricate designs on his chest and stomach. His eyes widened, growing accustomed to the light far too slowly. He immediately shut them again from the acute pain before blinking wildly.

Had it all really happened? Had he really told Draco that he loved him? More importantly, had Draco really said it first? And meant it??

And then… they…

Harry began to breathe more rapidly but he found that his heart did not race in the manner he expected. At the thought of Draco’s lips on his, their bodies rocking together, the very feel of skin on skin, Harry’s heart skipped and his stomach did summersaults. He was in a state of shock from the aftermath but it was not bad shock.

It was longing. Longing and satisfaction.

He felt full and comfortable and only very slightly afraid.

He did not know how to react, what to say, what to do. So Harry did not tempt to move at all. Without his knowing it, his fingers slowly resumed their work of drawing against Draco’s skin but his arms were stiffer than before, his eyes wide and his jaw firmly clenched. Then something hit him hard and caused him to relax.

“Mmm, Harry,” Draco’s soft and husky voice came and echoed in Harry’s ears. The blond’s arm shifted and suddenly Harry’s fingers were entwined in Draco’s. The other man stilled his movement and slowly turned over to look him in the eyes. “What are you doing?”

Harry didn’t actually hear the words. His attention lingered, instead, on those half-lidded molten silver eyes that stared back at him with bemused inquiry. He exhaled slowly and licked his lips, unsure of how to answer Draco’s question. What did it mean anyway? What was he referring to?

“I don’t know,” he whispered simply. He didn’t want to move his hands from Draco’s skin but he realized that his glasses were askew on his face because of how he was lying on the ground. He wondered how he managed to keep them on his face the whole way through their…encounter.

As though reading his mind, Draco’s free hand came up to adjust them. The blond did not smirk as he should have. He looked pensive and more awake than he had been a minute ago. The reality of their situation and positions was weighing heavily on his mind, just as much as Harry’s.

“What time is it?” he asked smoothly. Draco was clearly uncomfortable now but he made no effort to pull away from Harry or let his hand go. Harry swallowed hard, still unable to look away from those grey eyes.

“I don’t know,” was the reply and the only one he could give. He worried that he no longer knew anything at all. He worried that Draco’s influence made his mind push out all other thoughts so that it might fill itself to the brim with only things related to this man. He worried that he had given up far too much of himself, that he had fallen head-over-heels and done so without thought to the consequences, that he didn’t care.

But he did care, didn’t he? He still had his family to love. He had his children who would always own a part of his heart and nothing could dislodge them from it. He still cared for his friends, Ron and Hermione, no matter how angry he might be with them. He still cared for those he’d always considered his family, the Weasleys. Even though he had seen little of them since…Ginny’s death.

The point was he still cared and he needed still to care. He would never forfeit that.

But Draco was here and he was real and he was so overwhelmingly attractive to Harry. Everything drew them together, everything. Draco was buried so deeply underneath Harry’s skin he had become some kind of addiction and the dark-haired man wondered, briefly, if Ginny had not been right.

If he hadn’t always been more obsessed with the blond than he should have been.

--But if the Phoenixes were right… if this is love…

And it was, wasn’t it? Could he deny that of himself any longer? Could he really continue to play the fool in the story of his own life? Could he ignore the glaring signs that warned him of what was to come?

“I think we slept through the whole night,” Draco suggested, leaning in towards Harry as he did. He expected a kiss and leaned in as well to meet the blond, but Draco simply lifted himself and sat up.

Harry shut his eyes in embarrassment and kept his eyes cast downward. He brought himself to a seated position as well, unable to stop himself admiring the curve of Draco’s back as he stretched out the kinks that had set in overnight. He bit his lip and arched his neck to do the same.

They sat there, staring out at the pool of crystal water before them for a long while as the sun slowly rose from its comfortable little bed on the horizon. Harry felt his heart sink with every passing moment. He glanced abound himself and his eyes landed on the vial of Phoenix tears that lay, untouched and taunting from the side of the blanket.

Had it all been a ploy? Had it all be a masterful plot that Draco had engineered to procure the tears? Had he meant a single word he had spoken? Or was Harry just a means to achieve an end?

“Where do we go from here?” Harry asked. He was not a coward and did not run from things. He met confrontations head on, he dealt with uncomfortable subjects. Most of the time.

His words had many meanings to them and he dared not look at Draco as he spoke them but longed to touch him again.

“Well, back to Luna’s I suppose,” Draco replied rather blandly. “We need to get our clothes back before we endeavour to do anything else.”

Harry stared. He did not understand. Draco was always, always the one who caught the figurative meaning of words. He could read between the lines and see the hidden messages. He was master of subtlety and symbolism. HOW had he missed the real meaning of Harry’s words?

Unless, he had ignored it purposefully…

“Oh,” Harry answered rather thickly. “Yeah.”

He got to his feet and picked up the velvet sac next to them in order to replace all of its contents. His heart thrummed against his chest while he fought off the foreign sadness that washed over him. So it had been a ruse. It had been a trick.

He didn’t think Phoenixes were that stupid, but perhaps they were.

Harry had been.

“Although,” Draco’s silky smooth voice pierced the air. He was no longer on the ground but, instead, behind Harry. Two strong hands ran slow lines down his spinal column and soothed his worries more powerfully than he hoped they would. Harry stood straight and stared resolutely in front of him. He would not turn back to Draco. “Clothing can be quite overrated.” Harry’s breath quickened. Draco’s arms slowly wrapped around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. Their skin touched again and he tensed.

“Are they?” he asked, his throat tight. He did not know what to make of it… He was fighting blind.

“Mm, yes,” Draco whispered, his lips brushing dangerously against Harry’s ear. His breath was hot and felt good. “But perhaps we should get dressed. I wouldn’t want anyone else to see you in all your glory.” Draco ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of Harry’s ear and he couldn’t help but gasp from the feeling. “I want you all to myself, you see. And hungry jealous eyes make it more risky to keep you.”

Harry’s heart melted but his more rational mind did not buy the pretty gilded words. He twisted around in Draco’s arms and stared back into those metallic eyes with resolve.

“I am not an object,” he shot back coolly, his resolve slowly crumbling. “Even if I were, you are spoiled enough as it is, Lord Malfoy.” The final words held as much contempt and sarcasm as Harry could muster.

“No, I’m quite ripe,” Draco corrected oddly. His hands drew down on Harry’s back and pulled him forward until they were pressed against one another and Harry could understand exactly what he meant. “You know that.”

Harry’s lips parted. He couldn’t give in.

He pushed away from Draco and picked up the bag he had inadvertently dropped. Draco looked hurt, dejected. Harry looked back at him and found himself regretting his actions. He could have been wrong.

Then, suddenly, Draco brought a hand to his chest and pressed heavily, with three fingers, on his own skin. His face was contorted in what might have been pain. Harry froze. What was happening?

“Draco, what’s wrong?” he asked more soothingly. He stepped forward and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder but he shrugged him off.

“Nothing,” he responded. He looked back up at Harry with angry eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

Harry blanched and looked away. He was angry and hurt but worried as well. He shook his head.

“You said you loved me,” he answered before he could stop himself. He was not a foolish child. He did not need to care this much, this way. He didn’t need to be this emotional. He was a trained adult. A disciplined adult. Why was he giving in to all his old habits and letting his feelings show on his sleeve? “Did you mean it? Or was that just a trick to get the Phoenix tears?”

Draco stared at him, aghast. Then, abruptly, he began to laugh.

“You’re joking right?” he snickered through his amusement. Harry was not pleased. He glared openly. Draco shook his head and smirked. “Never would have pinned Harry Potter for being so insecure.”

Harry gritted his teeth. This was not the moment to be mocking him. He frowned more fully.

“So you were lying,” Harry answered for him. His face full of rage. Draco shook his head.

“You dense git,” he muttered, looking almost aggravated. “I would not have said something like that if I had not meant it. In fact, I hadn’t really intended to say it at all.” Harry looked shocked.

“Why not?” he demanded. Draco suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“It’s not… the kind of thing I do,” he replied curtly. “Malfoys don’t profess their love and serenade the object of their affection. They’re much more refined than that nonsense.” He glanced back to Harry. “I suppose you’ve been a bad influence on me.”

His lips were upturned in a smirk and Harry calmed slightly. So he had meant it.

“Yes, I’m a terrible influence,” he mocked, feeling more lighthearted. He pushed Draco back against a tree. “Absolutely dreadful. Look at me, seducing an honourable Slytherin like yourself with my naughty Gryffindor ways.” He licked his lips. “I think you’ve forgotten who you are, Draco Malfoy.”

Then he kissed Draco full on the lips. He felt like an eighteen year old again, fooling around in the bushes with his lover.

Though, as he remembered, the actual image from memory did not involve any nudity and rather than a tall and gorgeous blond, it had been a much shorter, curvy-figured redheaded girl.

Harry pulled away for a moment, his eyes round.

“We should get back,” Draco whispered, his arms around Harry. He looked as though he saw Harry’s memory in his eyes, but said nothing.

They collected their things, cleaned themselves as best they could, and made their way back through the forest and along the trail to Luna’s home.

Upon their arrival, they found Luna waiting for them outside with a tray full of breakfast delights. She was sitting on a chair next to the sleeping crup. Rolf was, Harry assumed, somewhere inside the house.

“Good morning,” Luna greeted airily. “Tea and crumpets?” She gestured towards the tray. “You must be famished after all your exertions.”

Harry and Draco glanced at one another but there was no good way to go about asking Luna just how much she knew. There was no bad way to do it, come to think of it, either. Harry shrugged and nodded to her.

“I wonder,” Draco answered calmly. “If I might not dress first?”

She blinked at him and considered them both for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Of course, your clothes are inside, neatly laid out where you left them,” she explained.

Draco immediately made for the door and Harry, through some kind of obligation, followed him. They dressed in silence but as Harry examined the room once more, he found his eyes lingering on the painting of Ginny. She was displayed right next to Dean Thomas, near Ron and Hermione.

Harry turned around again and saw his own portrait. The green eyes glittered back at him but they were not trained on him. His portrait was looking and smiling brightly to the painting of Draco that was next to it.

The Draco in the painting was smiling as well. It was not a smirk or a grin or anything that held any kind of arrogance or contempt. It was a pure smile. Harry considered it all but then went back outside once he realized Draco was already gone.

He sat to eat some toast with marmalade while Luna and Draco discussed something that was of no interest to him. He was far to confused.

“Luna?” Harry asked her, unintentionally interrupted their conversation. “Is there a specific reason the portraits on your wall are displayed the way they are?”

She turned to him with a smile and kind look. He wondered if he would ever manage to be angry at Luna. He didn’t think it was possible.

“I would have thought it was obvious,” she sighed. “Yet Draco asked the same question.”

The blond man’s face did not change in colour but he busied himself with his tea.

“And?” Harry urged, looking from one blond to the other. Luna did not answer. It seemed as though she did not think the question was directed at her. Draco finally looked up.

“The portraits are painted in groups of two,” he replied calmly. “Two halves of one whole, each person corresponding best with the other.”

Harry stared and gaped at the idea. Surely these paintings have not been there long. Surely Ginny was not actually painted next to Dean Thomas from the beginning… surely Draco had been next to Hydra at some point…

Though Draco and Hydra had never been meant to be together…

“Where are you off to now?” Luna asked dreamily as she sipped her tea.

“We aren’t sure,” Draco replied, both of their voices distracting Harry too much from his thoughts for him to be able to actually understand them. “We need to visit Hogwarts at some point but that might be difficult. We can’t Apparate to the grounds and you haven’t got a Floo connection. Apparating into Hogsmeade might be a plan, mind you.”

Luna shook her head and gave him a questioning look. Harry couldn’t find any words to contribute to the conversation. He couldn’t even concentrate on the words that were being spoken. He was still trying to understand the details about the paintings.

“Well going to Hogsmeade would bring you farther from Hogwarts than you are now,” Luna explained simply. “Why would you do that? Unless, of course, you’re afraid of Jabberwocky’s catching onto your trail of scent. If that’s the case, don’t fret. There haven’t been any in this forest for ages.”

Harry furrowed his brow as he tried to understand that comment now, forgetting the words spoken about the paintings. He was completely lost. It was far too early in the morning and he had not imbibed enough tea yet. Draco, however, did not seem as confounded as he was.

“Where exactly are we, Luna?” he asked her.

“Why, in the Forbidden Forest, of course.”

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A/N: Oy. This was difficult to write and I don’t know if I’m pleased with it, but here we are.

I have a lot more planned for this story and I feel terrible for the fact that I keep having to apologize. I promised a regular posting schedule but my current emotional/physical state make that difficult. I intend to keep posting as often as possible and I will send email alerts to all who ask. I hope you still enjoy reading this and will continue to.

Their relationship will grow and change I hope, but as must have been expected, a bunch of magical birds crying on them could not have been the simple be all end all answer.

Thank you so much for the reviews and love! My love goes out to everyone!