What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 47 – There Are No Explosions Here

There was no use in lying. What should that prove at this late stage in the game? Draco had never been good at keeping up with old acquaintances, whether they be friends or temporary companions. In truth, he only truly managed to maintain his contacts with those he saw on a daily to weekly basis. His parents had always encouraged if not forced him to create contacts, to nurture them and demand that they grow. They had claimed that it would serve him well in the future to have many powerful people that happened to like him.

But times had changed and the Malfoy family was not as well-placed in wizarding society as it once had been.

Furthermore, acting as the heir to a social empire was exhausting and Draco had never cared much to learn the tricks of the trade. He had laboured under the very false impression that his parents would be around forever, in all of their glory, to forge alliances for him and serve his favour.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

The result of this was that Draco had lost touch (though the time he and his parents spent in custody with the Ministry, not to mention their affiliation with the Dark Lord and their fall from grace also had great bearing on the subject) with most if not all of his school friends.

He had not said nor heard a word from Blaise in just over nineteen years. Zabini had never been a very loyal friend –if you could call him that to begin with. He had been unnaturally selfish and self-centered (insomuch as it was unnatural for a Slytherin to be such) and, at the first sign of danger, he had bolted from Draco’s side.

Worse, Crabbe and Goyle had betrayed him so fully at the end of seventh year and during the final moments of the war that Draco did not feel any guilt for not having maintained contact. Crabbe, naturally, had died and though the initial shock of the matter had made it appear as though he had been terribly hurt by the event, he hadn’t mourned Vincent Crabbe for long. Goyle, on the other hand, had been sentenced to seven years in Azkaban prison for his involvement in the war and –mainly because he was much less convincing in his arguments and speech than Draco was –for his actions during the final battle.

Draco had not once paid him a visit, nor had he attempted to rekindle the friendship once Goyle had been released. He had been, however, mildly surprised that he had not been forced to see Gregory on a daily basis. Most of the inmates that had been released from the prison after serving their turn had already gone mad and so were admitted to St Mungo’s. Goyle, through some inexplicable miracle, was still mostly sane.

-Can’t go mad if you haven’t a brain, I suppose.-

But the relationship between Draco and Theodore Nott had always been a strange one. Draco had always looked to Theo in more of an equal manner. He was the only one who had consciously (though politely) declined to join Draco’s little band of followers during school. He had actively refused to take part in any Death Eater play or in talk relating to Voldemort. Throughout school he had spent most of his time reading or studying. He did not worship Draco for his position as Seeker or for his name, nor his wealth. He had never treated Draco as the Slytherin Prince much as everyone else had (until, again, his eventual fall from grace).

Theo had always been Draco’s silent companion. They had met during summer holidays every so often. In fact, Theo had been the only “friend” Draco had been allowed to have a the Manor. He still did not understand that.

In school, Draco had felt slighted by Theodore’s refusal to take part in his quest, in his mission to fight for the Dark Lord. He did not approve of Draco’s pranks or threats to Harry and the others, but he had never betrayed Draco.

Now, with the brilliant irony of hindsight, Draco respected Theodore for the way he had carried himself in school. He had been much stronger and more worthy of attention, though he rarely got it.

Draco supposed that it was fitting that he be the Potions Master at Hogwarts now.

“Seventeen years, Draco,” the Potions Master replied. “I would ask you how you’ve been but I’m afraid it shows on your face.” His tone became somber and quiet. “My condolences for Narcissa. She was a formidable woman.”

Draco was caught off-guard by the remark. He knew that his face was still flushed from the constant closeness with Harry. He knew that there was something in his normally cold silver eyes that must have shone through when he was in Harry’s company, but he did not expect to have his mother’s death reflecting there.

Yet he did not question it. Theo had always been able to pinpoint the precise torment that Draco was blind to. He nodded curtly.

“Thank you,” he answered as it was the only suitable response to that kind of question.

Theo smiled briefly and turned his attention to Harry, who was standing rather close and (it seemed to Draco) rather protectively at the blond’s side.

“Good to see you, Potter,” he added politely. He seemed so much more comfortable than he had ever been at school. “My condolences, to you as well, on the loss of your wife.” He paused with an odd look. “Seems we are all losing loved ones nowadays.”

“I suppose,” Harry replied noncommittally. Draco nearly let himself smirk. Harry was on his guard and very defensive. Had he been a wolf, his hackles would have been raised and his ears pricked to attention, awaiting the impending attack.

He was never able to comport himself casually around Slytherins (at least not at first). Theo was possible the least threatening of the flock and yet, still, he stirred some discomfort in Harry.

“What have you been up to these past years, Theo?” the blond asked suddenly, hoping to break the strained silence that had fallen. “Last I heard you were to marry Pansy.”

Theo broke out into a rather harsh and uncaring laugh. It was out of character and did not suit him. Draco was taken aback and glanced at Harry, who clearly did not appreciate the sudden outburst.

“Marry that lying wretch?” he burst out through his chuckles. “Are you mad? What do you take me for, Draco? Where did you hear that?”

Draco nearly blushed. He certainly would have had he not been trained not to in precisely situations like these. He kept his face calm and inquiring.

He had not thought on Pansy Parkinson in years either. Certainly not since sixth year when she began avoiding him. Initially she had vowed (to other Slytherins, she was never brave enough to proclaim this to Draco himself) that she would marry him and become a Malfoy. It had been her dream, apparently, to take on the name. How this made sense, Draco could not begin to fathom.

But, of course, as all flawed dreams must be, hers was crushed when Draco became a recluse in favour of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet to save his family rather than take part in all the active snogging that went around like the plague during sixth year. She had taken to many other boys in his absence, hoping to draw attention to herself but he paid her no mind and she eventually moved on.

To where, Draco had no clue.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted oddly. “What happened to her?”

Theo’s laughter was dying away but the ineffable smile lingered on his features. Harry was eying him like a hawk.

“From all I know,” he began bemusedly. “When she realized that her plots to steal the Malfoy name fell through she decided to go off to find a foreign wizard to take her. Perhaps someone who had never gotten wind of her reputation. She apparently married some pureblood from Spain and is living there now.”

“So you aren’t married then?” he asked.

“Certainly not if all women are like she is,” he replied with a snicker.

Draco suppressed a laugh but he shared a knowing look with his old friend and a smile inevitably drew itself on his lips. Harry coughed loudly and glared at the both of them, perhaps without knowing it.

“So,” Theo went on as though the cough had not been deliberate. “What brings you both here together? You must know how strange it is to see you standing so determinately together.”

Harry’s face flushed and Draco stole a glance his way, hoping that he would continue to react this way every time they met with someone. Theo, however, noticed his glance but said nothing.

“We’re here on Ministry business,” Harry croaked uncomfortably. “We need to look into your stores of ingredients.” He shifted in his place to find a professional air. “When Slughorn died, his belongings were kept in the store room, yeah?” Theo nodded. “Then did you happen to notice several large containers of, er –” Harry stopped, apparently unsure of whether or not to reveal the contents of the bottles to Theodore or not.

“Acromantula poison?” the Potions professor finished for him. Harry’s eyes widened slightly despite his best attempts and Draco had to give Theodore credit. He played his part as Slytherin very well.

“How did you –” Harry began quietly, unable to stop himself. Theo laughed again but this time it was a more friendly sound.

“The bottles were labeled, Potter,” he went on calmly. “And Acromantula poison is not the kind of ingredient one finds in a normal school stock. I figured it was part of his personal stock and he didn’t have time to sell it.” Theo turned around and began to lead them towards a cupboard. “It’s all still there. I haven’t touched it, though I wouldn’t have need would I?”

He opened the old wooden doors and pulled out several large bottles. Each was painted black on the outside and had no label on the outside to reveal its contents. He took note of their look of confusion and waved his wand over the bottles. Immediately, silver words scrawled over the bottles to spell out ‘Acromantula Poison’ before disappearing again.

“I couldn’t leave them out in the open like that,” he explained. “Not with what they are worth. Furthermore if a student got their hands on it and used it in any way, we would have serious trouble. I’m no fool.”

Harry looked at him and considered him for a moment. Draco could practically see the cogs in his mind turning while he weighed out the matter and decided on whether or not Theodore was indeed worthy of trust. He finally smiled.

“Good,” the Unspeakable replied. “We’re going to need to take the lot.”

Draco nodded to Theo and picked up a number of the bottles while Harry took the rest. The former-Gryffindor was clearly eager to get out of the dungeons and so they began to leave.

“Will you stay for dinner tonight?” Theo asked as they went towards the door. “I would like to catch up further before you disappear again for seventeen years.”

Draco snickered softly and nodded.

“We’ll be here,” he answered simply as they left the room.

Draco followed Harry further throughout the dungeons before he realized that they were not headed towards any upper part of the castle. In fact, they were headed towards the Slytherin common room. Before they reached the stone doorway, however, Harry stopped abruptly in an alcove and carefully placed the bottles on the ground.

Draco imitated him, though he did not know why, and looked back up at Harry. There was fury and displeasure written in the green eyes and Draco cocked a brow.

“Why do you do this to me?” he asked harshly. Draco was lost.

“Do what?”

Harry frowned and glared. It was not a pleasant experience to be on the receiving end of that expression.

“Look, Draco,” he pressed on. “You would think that by now, after all the years we’ve known each other, even just as rivals, you would be more aware of my character.” There was an odd anger in his voice that Draco couldn’t place. He was hurt. \

“You mean your jealous nature?” he interjected smoothly, his voice like silk. “Or your protective tendencies?”

Harry’s jaw dropped slightly and he gave Draco a confused look. Then shook his head violently and frowned.

“I’m not jealous!” he shouted furiously. “And if I’m protective it’s because I care! But do you, Draco?”

The words stung his heart and he pulled back, the smirk flickering before it faded completely from his face. His throat closed briefly.

“What are you on about?” he shot, his eyes narrowed very little. Harry sighed heavily and looked steadily at him.

“I know Nott is an old friend of yours,” he began, his words even and measured. “But what kind of friend is what I’m after.”

And then the seriousness of their conversation had been shattered with one, baseless and completely absurd remark. Draco tried not to laugh too hard for fear of insulting Harry further.

“You are a piece of work,” he replied simply through the string of chortles. “Were you this way with all of your lovers?”

Harry blushed furiously red and looked aside for a moment, unable to take the comment. He glared back at Draco finally and kept up his determination.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he stated carefully. Draco shook his head.

“Would you like me to tell you that Theo and I would fuck?” he hissed darkly, pressing Harry up against the wall, using his entire body to pin him there. He could feel the heat rise in Harry’s body as he did it but didn’t care. He whispered softly to Harry’s ear, flicking his tongue at the lobe. “That we were far more than friends? That we shagged each other senseless late at night in the dorms, while you slept, unsatisfied in your bed?” Harry’s body tensed in a similar manner to a caged animal as he felt himself pressed harder against the cold stone wall. His entire being was shaking with mingled rage and need beneath Draco’s power. “Because we didn’t.” He finally pulled back slightly. The sultry timbre to his voice was gone. “I had other things on my mind and I didn’t care for blokes.” The blond smiled. “You are the first man I’ve ever been with, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Draco covered his lips immediately with a passionate kiss. He forced the other man’s mouth open further, demanding everything he had and allowing his body to arch as it pleased against Harry’s form.

They kissed heavily for a long while, Harry’s hands roaming along Draco’s back and the growing hotness of desire stirring in both of their stomachs. Then some distant sound of wind or breath of air distracted them and Harry pushed Draco away abruptly. Lust had already begun to take over his silver eyes and the blond did not appreciate the change in positions.

“What is it?” he demanded as Harry stared wide-eyed down the hallway. There was nothing there.

“I could have sworn I just saw someone,” he whispered as though he was afraid of his own words. Draco blinked and stared at the empty spot.

“Who did you think it was?” he inquired further, the grips of passion already dissipating. Harry breathed heavily.

“James.”

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A/N: I AM NOT DEAD. I am having scheduling issues but I will create one that suits me so that I can write and still read for my classes in an adequate manner. Yes. No more excuses, no more crappy people stealing my time from me and making me feel horrible.

You all deserve better than I have been and I will make it up to you! I WILL finish this story and it will not take forever, I promise.

Thanks for your patience and SO MUCH adoration to those who are still following and have stuck through my stupidity. I love you all!

Craziness happening, I hope to get more DONE in each chapter now as there is lots to reveal still heehee. I really missed writing them during my little time away. It keeps me sane!

Love to all!