Miscalculations

Miscalculations



By
JanusEris




Translated
by Lex



A/N:
Thank you for all your reviews. I hope
some of your questions have been answered in this chapter. Two more to
go!



For
those of you who are a bit troubled because
of the darkness of this fic… Harry is indeed a sadist -
Snapes is a good judge
of character in this case - but Harry has a conscience (and if he
can’t rely on it
he has Snape as his cricket). Besides, Draco is tough, so
don’t worry.



Age of the Otter



From
one
moment to the next, some of Draco’s old buddies crawled back
out from the
hiding holes they’d disappeared into during the first trial
and testified his
neutrality. Draco experienced his trial de novo in a state of numbness.
It was
like a surreal dream, it didn’t get through to him that it
really was
happening. The spell was taken off him, even though there
wasn’t anything that
could be done about his scars – Potter’s crest
would stay on his chest forever,
unlike Severus’. Draco’s inheritance was restituted
to him together with a
hefty compensation. Draco shook Granger’s hand while she
formally apologized.
The flashlights
of the cameras almost blinded him. A nice Ministry Official accompanied
him to
the Malfoy Manor and slipped him a business card – in case he
wanted to talk to
someone about all of it – she asked him thousands of
pointless questions, that
he gave one-word-answers to or none at all, and finally left. A house
elf
popped up before him, and squealed, melted in tears, how happy it was
that its
master was back. Draco stared at it and listened to the weeping longer
than
he’d ever listened to a crying being in his life, not to
mention a house elf.

Only
in
that moment, in the middle of the entrance hall of the manor, reality
struck
him. He wasn’t a slave anymore. He was free. The words
sounded oddly strange,
as if concerning a different person.



In
his
shock Draco did something he’d never done before and would
never do again – he
hugged the house elf. Then he asked it if it wanted to be free. It
stared at
him motionless for a few minutes; eyes big as saucers, until Draco
feared it
had died from shock. Though finally it woke from its paralysis and
cried how
sorry it was about the most ridiculous things and only stopped when
Draco
managed to convince it that he didn’t intent to free it and
never planned to.
Afterwards he vowed to never do something like that again, sod Minister
Granger.



Draco
spent
the next three months getting slowly used to being responsible for his
own life
again. He didn’t need to work. The Malfoys had always been
rich and the
compensation left him even richer. It took him a few weeks to sort
through the
documents his father left. He had inherited seats on various social
boards,
like the Gobstones Club and the Hogwarts Board of Governors.
Furthermore, he
owned shares of some lucrative companies, for instance Nimbus Inc.
Although
that had always been taken care of by the procurators of his family.
Draco
eventually forced himself to talk to them only to hear that everything
was in
order and he was getting richer by the minute. Nice to know.



After
he’d
halfway gotten back his equilibrium Draco went back into social life.
He had to
learn that meanwhile he’d been stylised as some kind of
tragic hero by the
media, a poor boy who’d bravely opposed his evil family only
to be caught
between the millstones of policy. It couldn’t be farther from
the truth, but
what did he care? Wizards and witches adored him and if they wanted
stories why
not telling them? As another benefit, if a dubious one, it spared him
to work
through residual issues of his slavery, he just had to continue the
tales
they’d already spun in their fantasies.



On
the
whole, he was rich, famous, popular and never lacked bed partners. His
life
could have been wonderful. But it wasn’t.



Draco
felt
restless. None of his partners satisfied him. They all seemed too
stupid, too
stilted, too sallow. His life bored him since he didn’t have
any obligations.



He
had no
idea what’d become of Potter and Severus. At first, Severus
had sent him
letters. Draco had answered them stinted in the beginning, then put
them aside
unopened and sent them back in the end. They became scarce and finally
stopped
altogether. When ever he felt regret about it he suppressed it. It was
the
past, part of his life that was finished and that he was prepared to
forget.



Draco
would
have been convinced that he indeed had forgotten it, if it
hadn’t been for the
dreams. Night after night, he stared into green eyes while the whip bit
him and
when he woke up in the morning he still could hear a whispered
“my Dragon” in
his ears. No matter how many people he slept with, men or women, the
dreams
didn’t stop.



Out
of pure
boredom he finally started to take the positions his father had left
him more
seriously. He became a constant presence at the Ministry and climbed up
the
political ladder. His father might have been many things but Draco
always took
him to be a brilliant politician. That was the reason he had no
scruples to use
the methods his father had utilized so successfully. Greed and vices
still were
wide spread, the Ministry led by Hermione Granger being no exception.
Draco
knew for sure that the Minister hated him but she didn’t have
a scrap of
evidence against him and it would stay that way. He wasn’t a
Slytherin for
nothing.



When
it was
pointed out to him that a married man would have better chances on the
more
attractive positions at the Ministry, he tied the knot. Her name was
Leatitia
Farland. She was a pretty, if a little simple-minded, pureblooded
witch, whose
only ambition was to marry rich and influential and bear many children.
She
was, even if it wasn’t obvious, the complete opposite to his
mother. Draco’s
mother had been an intelligent, ambitious woman who didn’t
like children. The
purpose of her life and her death had been solely the pure blooded
ideal. His
father might have been a loyal Death Eater but his mother surpassed
him. The
difference between them was that she’d never been busted.
Maybe she was too
clever … or maybe the Dark Lord liked her too much to send
her on dangerous
missions. Voldemort had called her Mother of the pure blood. Ironic, in
his
opinion there had only been one woman less motherly than Narcissa and
that was
her sister Bellatrix.



Draco
didn’t mind the children, especially since Laetitia took care
of them. Children
were good for his image. The Wizarding World had suffered greatly from
the war
and to have a big family was looked upon favourable. Not that he
didn’t care
for them. He’d never been so proud as when he held his oldest
son, Adrian, in
his arms. That was only topped by the birth of his daughter Claudia. It
was
just that he didn’t know what to do with children. He hired a
nanny when after
the birth of the twins, Marcus and Maximilian, Leatitia told him that
the work
became too much for her. He bought whatever Laetitia said they needed.
Otherwise, he was too busy with work to bother with her overly much.



He
became
one of the youngest members of the Wizengamot. If there was a new law
to be
proposed to the council – he knew about it. At least he knew
if it would be
adopted. He knew whose interests were in favour of the law and whose
not. He
knew who made the laws. At the age of twenty-eight he could finally say
that
he’d surpassed his father – at importance, wealth,
family – at everything.



***



“I’ve
had
enough.”



Draco
stared into the blue eyes of his wife and tried to process what
she’d said with
his sleep-addled brain. “What?”



She
flipped
her blond dyed curls with exaggerated indignation. “I gave
birth to four
children for you and I’m with the fifth, and you still wake
up with the name of
another on your lips. If you can call it a name.” She pursed
her lips in
contempt. “I’ve had enough.”



He
froze
for a moment then he bestowed a cold glare at her. “Meaning?
You want a
divorce?” If she was serious, he had a big problem. He
couldn’t allow the
scandal.



She
stared
at him, perplexed. “Of course not! I want separate
bedrooms.”



“Ah,
of
course. I’ll notify the house elves later today.”
Thank Merlin for
simple-minded creatures.



“Good.”
She
rested back while he stood to have breakfast.



***



“May
I join
you for breakfast, father?”



Draco
looked down at the black curly head of his three-year-old daughter. The
colour
of her hair was evidence of two generations of Malfoy-Women who had
dyed their
hair.



“You
are
awake already? Where is Shandra?” The nanny wasn’t
very reliable sometimes.



“Still
sleeping.” She looked up at him with her big blue eyes.
“Please, father? I’ll
be no trouble, I swear.”



He
smiled
involuntarily. “Ah, well. But you have to promise that
you’ll go back to your
room when I have to go to work. I’ll send Blurry to look
after you.”



“I
promise.” the little girl said gravely.



“Fine.”
Draco pulled her up in his arms and carried her to the dining room. The
house
elves had been attentive; the table was set for two. He put Claudia on
a chair
next to him, which immediately heightened to adjust to her size.



Draco
expected her to babble to herself to gain his attention, like children
usually
did, but she just sat quietly in front of her plate, concentrated on
eating her
breakfast, and left him to read the Daily Prophet in peace. When she
was
finished eating she folded her hands in her lap and looked around,
still
letting him continue reading. It was almost eerie in a three year old.
Which
was why he observed her over the edge of his newspaper.



Eventually
it was time for him to go to work and she said good-bye without a fuss.



The
next
morning she was back. For a moment, Draco considered sending her back
to bed,
but, in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So, he
got used to have
breakfast in her company.



***



Draco’s
fourth son, Julius, was born in May. Laetitia didn’t move
back into his
bedroom. The following autumn she suddenly developed an interest in
Aethonans
and spent a lot of her time on horseback. It didn’t take a
genius for Draco to
connect it to the newly hired horse groom. Meanwhile Draco knew for
sure that
her greedy little heart wouldn’t allow her to leave him, so
he couldn’t care
less.



When
his
eldest son turned six Draco hired a tutor, who took the place of the
groom.
This time he warned Laetitia to better be circumspect in front of the
children.
She was actually shocked that he knew. Without a doubt, Claudia had
inherited
her intelligence from her father. Draco let his daughter attend
Adrian’s
lessons because she was extremely curious about what her older brother
was
learning. He was impressed when he found out that she could read the
headlines
of the Daily Prophet, because one day she asked him about it. Of course
she
didn’t understand the workings of policy, but she listened
carefully when he
explained to her why Minister Granger was a foolish person. In his
eyes, that
was a profound sign for her intelligence.



***



“I
want to
go out more.”



Draco
stared at his wife, incredulous. “You want what?”



“Go
out. I
have almost no social life. The children had me tied to the house but
Julian is
two already and we have Shandra. Gideon also says that my mind is
starving.”



He
grimaced. Her mind wasn’t starving; she was born with an
emaciated one. “And I
should listen to the sermon of your pea-brained lover because
…?”



“Because
I
am your wife and you should care for my well-being. And Gideon is not
pea-brained. He is very intelligent. He speaks seven languages and has
a master
in history.”



Draco
rolled his eyes. “The bare prerequisites for pre-school
tutors. Not that I’m
really interested. What do you want? Everything for your well-being.
Whatever
it is, I’ll buy it for you. What else do you want?”



“I
want to
go out.” she insisted stubbornly.



He
sighed.
“Fine.” He browsed the social pages of the Prophet
and picked the first that
caught his eyes. “The congress of the European Potion Masters
is this weekend.
There’ll be a gala in honour of their new chairman.
High-class company,
stimulating for your mind and you can have an overpriced new robe
tailored for
it.”



“You
don’t
have an invitation,“ she protested. Apparently, it
wasn’t what she’d had in
mind.



“Trust
me,
darling, before the weekend I’ll have one.”



She
stared
at him, then she straightened emphatically. “Then
I’ll have to go to Madame
Malkin’s tomorrow.”



“See
that
you do, dear.”



***



By
Thursday, Draco had received the necessary invitation for the congress.
Not
that they planned to attend the congress itself. They were only
interested in
going to the gala. So, on Sunday, they appeared fashionably late when
the
congress was already over.



Laetitia’s
robe was not only expensive; it was, in Draco’s opinion, also
a pinnacle of bad
taste. But Madame Malkin had convinced his wife that it was the latest
cry in
fashion, so, who was he to argue?



“Mister
Draco Malfoy and his wife Laetitia.” the man on the reception
announced them.
For a moment there was no sound and everyone stared at them when they
walked
down the stairs. Draco was used to that kind of reaction but Laetitia
had blood
shooting to her face and she nervously lowered her eyes.



“Look
up.”
Draco whispered. “You’re embarrassing us.”



She
winced
and looked straight ahead, more nervous now than ever. Draco inwardly
sighed.
He’d picked this gala just to annoy her. Now he realized that
it had been a
very bad idea. He knew most of the attending wizards and witches from
magazines. They all were very famous potion masters. Some were in the
company
of their spouses but a good number attended with their assistants.
They’d eat
Laetitia alive; the more when they realized that she didn’t
have the first clue
about the topic of the congress.



They
sat at
their allocated places and Draco started to look around more
thoroughly. At
this moment, an old balding wizard rose and tapped his glass shortly
followed
by silence.



“Welcome
dear guests.” the man started, Draco recognized him after
short consideration
as Arsenius Jiggers, his voice enhanced by a Sonorus spell.
“We have gathered
today in honour of the new chairman of our congress. His position was
earned by
outstanding brilliance and unique work. Let us welcome: Harry James
Potter.”



Draco
froze. The attendees applauded, even if clearly reserved. Someone at
the end of
the table stood and Draco felt his gaze captured.



Potter
seemed unchanged, as if there hadn’t been a day gone by since
their last
meeting. The same messy hair, the same green eyes. He bowed to the
gathered and
motioned his hand dismissively.



“Enough
of
that, Arsenius. Let’s get to the person who really earned
that praise.”



The
old man
smiled at him and Potter sat back down.



“Right,
on
to the man who will fill this position for Mister Potter, since he
can’t take
it on himself due to his personal circumstances. I recently celebrated
my
one-hundred-and-thirty-fourth birthday, and I still cannot say to have
ever met
another likewise brilliant mind in my career. Please, welcome with me
the man
who revolutionized the Wolfsbane-potion, the inventor of Laudandum, one
of the
most talented Potion Masters I ever had the honour to know
…, welcome Severus
Snape.”



This
time
the applause was explicitly more enthusiastic. A number of people rose
and gave
standing ovations. Now Draco could see Severus, sitting right beside
Potter. He
stood reluctantly. His godfather definitely had changed. His hair
wasn’t greasy
any more and much longer than Draco remembered. It had greyed in
numerous
streaks. It was bound by a golden clasp that bore the Potter crest. He
wore a
black robe with a wide cut neckline. But all that wasn’t the
most important
thing. When he rose, the whole hall fell instantly silent. Severus
always had
an impressive presence but now he was surrounded by an aura Draco had
only ever
experienced once – with Albus Dumbledore. Not exactly an aura
of power, more
like being untouchable. The aura of a person who is completely
self-assured
because he knows that he has clearly surpassed everyone else around
him.
Severus smiled. Years ago Draco would have thought it weird, but now it
appeared completely natural on him.



“Thank
you.” Severus said. His voice was still as impressive as
Draco remembered and
just added to his appearance. “From my earliest childhood
potions were my
passion. I’ve been lead astray from this path - by
circumstances most of you
will be familiar with. The more I am grateful that now, in the second
half of
my life, I’m able to follow my destiny. Many people supported
me on my path,
without quite a few of them I wouldn’t stand here tonight. I
want to thank some
of them. First of all my gratitude goes to Albus Dumbledore, without
whose
incessant help and trust my life would have been largely different.
Then there
is Remus Lupin to thank who made my work at Wolfsbane at all possible.
For
similar reasons I’m thanking Frank and Alice Longbottom and
their son Neville,
who provided me with the means to perfect Laudandum. I thank the board
of this
congress for allowing me to fill this position despite my status. I
thank Mrs.
Tatjana Potter for her assistance and commitment. At last but most of
all I’m
thanking my master, Harry Potter, for his unending support. Countless
years of
my life have been governed by others. He finally gave me the freedom to
be who
I really am. And that’s why I am most grateful to
him.”



Severus
bowed in Potter’s direction. Potter appeared highly
embarrassed and seemed as
if he wanted to sink through his seat.



Severus
grinned. “Well, Mister Potter … you cannot forsake
your fans. Since you tried
to focus their attention on me, I can’t help but return the
favour.”



There
were
some laughs in the audience.



“You
just
enjoy embarrassing me, Severus.” Potter replied.



Severus
put
his hand over his heart. “Busted. Can you believe that I have
to live with this
brat every day? It’s a miracle we’ve both survived
for so long, really. And I
don’t talk about exploding potions.” Draco noticed
Severus wearing an odd
bracelet that was linked to a ring on his middle finger by two small
chains. It
was made of gold, like the hair clasp.



The
listeners laughed again.



Severus
smiled in amusement. “Thank you for your attention and now I
wont keep you from
the buffet any longer. After all, we all know that is the true reason
for you
to be here.”



Some
protests were made in-between applause and laughter. Draco was baffled.
He
would never have thought it possible that Severus Snape showed his
amusement
openly, let alone encourage others to laugh at him. Moreover, he was
obviously
quite at ease with Potter. Not to mention Lupin! And Longbottom!



Draco
seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the both of them. He wondered
where
Potter’s wife was. She wasn’t there, apparently.
Potter was married. He
surprised himself with the anger he felt at this thought. Of course
Potter was
married. Ten years had passed, even Potter had to do something to
continue his
lineage. Most likely, she was a kind-hearted witch and undyingly in
love with
Potter. And at home were a number of Mini-Potter’s waiting
for him. Why, in
Hades, should he care?



Draco
morosely picked at his meal and ignored Laetitia’s attempts
to drag him into
her brainless chatter. Eventually the music started and Draco dutifully
danced
one dance with her. Then he sat back down and let his gaze wander over
the
guests. She tried in vain to get him up for another dance and finally
stalked
away angrily to find someone else, more willing. Draco didn’t
care. He refused
to admit to himself that he’d done nothing else but watching
Potter the whole
evening. He looked exactly like he did in Draco’s dreams.
Draco had to
forcefully remind himself that Potter wasn’t this person.
This person was just
a product of his fantasy. He hated that he couldn’t get his
thoughts away from
it. If he had known that Potter would be there, he would never have set
a foot
in here.



For
some
time, Potter danced with various partners and later talked to some
guests. The
whole time Severus was deeply engaged in talks with other Potion
Masters.



Finally,
Draco pulled himself up and went over to Severus. It was his duty to
congratulate him. It would look strange not to do so. And the press was
around,
certainly.



Severus
didn’t look surprised when Draco approached him. He had to
have noticed him
before. Only when Draco stood right in front of him he realized that he
didn’t
know how to address him.



“Good
evening, Severus.” he said, finally, holding out his hand.
“Congratulations to
the new position.”



Severus
took Draco’s hand. His handshake was oddly feeble. It puzzled
Draco until he
realized that the bracelet was the cause. It hampered Severus ability
to bend
his fingers in a normal way.



“Thank
you
very much, Mister Malfoy. Though, it is not my position, as you must
have
heard. I merely fill in.”



“That’s
what I meant.”



“Of
course.
Allow me …” Severus gently withdrew his hand. Only
then, Draco noticed that he
still held it.



“Sure.
I’m
sorry,“ he said, hastily. He pulled his own hand back as if
burned.



“Don’t
mention it.” Severus’ black eyes regarded him. To
Draco it felt as if they saw
straight into his soul. He turned away, uncomfortably.



“I’m
sorry
that I didn’t write back. I was busy…”
Draco regretted every word as soon as it
left his mouth. He made a complete fool of himself.



Severus
cocked his head. “I assumed as much, Mister Malfoy.
Certainly, there were many
things you had to deal with.”



“You
can
still call me Draco.” he let unintentionally slip.



Severus
smiled fleetingly. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.
Please, excuse me … my
presence is asked for at Mister Jiggers table.”



He
left
Draco standing. It had been years since someone had done that to him.
For a
moment, Draco was simply speechless. Then it dawned on him that he
indeed had
made a fool of himself and his surprise turned into anger.



“Mister
Malfoy … I have to say I’m surprised.”



Draco
spun
around and found himself facing the one man he never wanted to meet
again in
his life.



“Amazing
way to meet again.” Green eyes drilled into him.



“Potter.”
he spat. Draco felt a slight tremor and he hated Potter for it. For the
feeling
he’d awoken in him. For everything and anything.
“As I see it, congratulations
are in order. You have to be desperate if you need your slave to get
some
attention.”



Potter’s
look turned to ice from one second to another. He stepped closer and
caused him
to back away.



Draco
felt
the absurd urge to fall to his knees and apologize.



“Did
I hit
a nerve?” he mocked instead. He clenched his fists to
suppress their shaking. Shame!
an inner voice cried, sounding remarkably like his father. Look
at you! You
are a disgrace …



Potter
leaned forwards, furious. “Come with me! We have to
talk!”



Draco
followed him without thinking. Only when had left the hall he realized
what he
was doing. He was about to turn back but Potter grabbed him and pushed
him into
a small room at the side. It turned out to be an empty office.



“What
do
you want, Potter?” he hissed. He tried to ignore the
paralysed feeling that
seized him. “Can’t you stomach any criticism any
more? One might think you’d be
used to it due to Severus. On the other hand, does he even criticise
you at
all? Looks like you’ve finally managed to turn him into your
obedient toy.”



Potter
slapped his face so hard Draco hit the wall in his back.



“How
dare
you!” Potter spat angrily. “You give him the silent
treatment for ten years,
after all he did for you. And now you suddenly turn up here to insult
him? I
don’t care what you say about me but you have no right
… no right to take his
name in your filthy mouth!”



Draco
wanted to say something sarcastic but his voice failed. His feelings
revolted.
Blood roared in his ears.



“What’s
the
matter, Malfoy?” Potter asked, stepping closer. He put his
hand at the wall
besides Draco. “Cat got your tongue?”



Draco
closed his eyes. Potter was so close he could smell him. He smelled
just like
in his dreams. Heat spread in his body and Draco clenched his fists
again to
gain back his control. In vain.



“Forgive
me, Sir,“ he whispered, involuntarily. His inner voice
shrieked.



Harry
froze. “What?”



Draco
looked into his eyes. “Forg…give me.” he
choked out. He managed to control it
only marginally. “I’m sorry, please, forgive
me.”



His
heart
raced so fast, it felt as if it would burst any moment.



“Draco
…”
Harry said, unsteadily. “What is it?”



Draco
couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He felt that if he
did, he would be
lost. Condemned forever.



“Forgive
me,“ he repeated. “Forgive me, forgive me
…” He slid down at the wall and
embraced his legs. Even without looking, he could feel
Harry’s gaze on him.
Draco felt dirty, broken beyond repair. Pathetic! his
inner voice
hissed. Abominable! A shame! Puny! Vile! He
trembled.



“Draco
…”
Harry said again. His voice sounded husky.



A
hand was
laid on Draco’s. “Look at me. Please, look at
me.”



Despite
better knowledge, Draco looked up. He looked into green eyes and felt
himself
drowning in them. He couldn’t make himself care.
“You destroyed me,“ he
whispered.



“I
saved
you.” Harry protested.



Draco
smiled melancholically, bitter. “That too. At the end
I’m bowing before the
better man.”



“What
are
you saying?” Harry asked, bewildered.



Draco
pushed himself on his knees. “We hate each other. We always
did. It is one of
the few constants in my life.”



He
gazed up
at Harry. Harry confusedly looked back.



Draco
wanted nothing more than to touch him, but he knew it was impossible.
“Go.” he
said. “Give your wife my regards.”



Harry’s
face showed, if possible, only more confusion. “I
don’t understand …”



Draco
looked away. “Of course not. When did you ever understand
anything?”



“It’s
been
ten years.” Harry said. “You cannot …
It’s been ten years!”



“I
know.”
Draco replied. “You are right. Please, go.”



Harry
struggled visibly with himself. “No.” he said,
eventually. He stepped to Draco
and buried his hands in his hair. “I will not go.”



Draco
closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling, pride forgotten. Everything
he’d
become didn’t count anymore.



“I
love
you,“ he whispered.



Harry
sank
to his knees before Draco and stared at him. Then he bent forward and
kissed
him. He tasted like in Draco’s dreams.



Dreams
that
had tormented him every night, for ten long years. “I hate
you.” Draco
whispered.



“I
love
you, too.” Harry sobbed and Draco clumsily pulled him in his
arms. He buried
his face in Harry’s neck and enjoyed the feel of his skin.
But a strong voice
still insisted that it was wrong and impossible.



“Go,
Potter.” he whispered, suffocating. “Go home. This
has no future.”



“You
are
married, too.” Harry choked out.



Draco
laughed harshly. “Just a means to an end. The tutor of our
children finds more
redeeming traits in my lovely wife than I ever could. No, Potter,
don’t worry
about my wife. For you it is different. Go home to your green-eyed
little
children and forget you ever saw me. I am poison. Certainly, your
mudblood
friend told you that.”



“Your
insults lose weight if you know that you don’t mean
them.” Harry countered.
“There are no green-eyed children. Tatjana and I …
well, it’s complicated but
you can trust me, our marriage doesn’t matter.”



They
stared
at each other for a moment, then Harry stood abruptly. “If
one of us is poison,
than it is me. We should never have met again. It was probably for the
best
that you avoided us. You cannot love me. How could you love
me?”



“I
just
do.” It hurt to admit that. “You rejected me. Are
you doing it again? You’ll
have to decide. Do you love me, or are you just playing with
me?” Draco felt
the familiar anger but stayed on his knees. He felt exhausted, drained.



“I
always
loved you.” Harry said toneless. “I wanted you to
hate me. You would never have
left me, otherwise.”



“So
you
rejected me?” he said, infuriated. “Did it ever
cross your mind that I didn’t
want to leave you?”



“To
be my
slave forever?” Harry hissed. “You were just a
shadow of your former self. You
said it yourself: You would have done everything I told you. Is that
really the
life that you wanted?”



“Good
to
know that you talk to Severus about everything.” Draco
replied angrily. “Maybe
it wasn’t what I wanted. But you never gave me a choice, did
you?”



“You
weren’t in a condition to make that choice!” Harry
cried. “I did it for you!”



Draco
clenched his fists and closed his eyes. A part of him that Harry was
right. Still,
he was so endlessly angry with him. The more so since he felt that he
was about
to reject him again. “Am I at present in a condition to make
this choice, in
your opinion?” he hissed. “Or do you still decide
for me?”



“You
don’t
know what you are asking!” Harry shouted. “You
don’t want a relationship with
me, trust me! You have no idea what you’ll get yourself
into.”



“Then
tell
me.” he replied coldly. “Let me decide for myself
what I want and what I don’t
want.”



“I
can’t
change for you.” Harry responded.



“Did
I ask
you to? I just want you to tell me what you want from me. Nothing
else.”



“What
I
want?” Harry asked huskily. He stepped closer again and
buried his fingers in
Draco’s hair, this time so firm it hurt. “You
really want to know what I want,
my Dragon?”



A
shiver
run through Draco and his pulse sped up. “Yes.” he
whispered.



Harry
stared into his eyes. “I want you. I always wanted you. Just
like this, on your
knees. Have you any idea how delicious this sight is for me?”



He
pulled
Draco’s head to him until his face was pressed at his groin.
Draco could feel
that Harry was hard beneath his robes.



“I
desired
you then, but now I desire you more. Yes, Hermione told me about you.
You
regained the power your family had lost, didn’t you? Do you
know why it is more
fun to hunt a bear than a deer?”



Draco
couldn’t breath any more. At first, he tried not to struggle
against Harry. But
now his instinct took over and he tried to free himself from his grip.
Just to
realize that Harry was stronger than him.



“Because
it
is much more satisfying to conquer something proud and
powerful.”



Draco
fought against him without success. His heart beat violently in his
chest and
finally white spots started to dance behind his lids. Suddenly Harry
stiffened
and let him go, abruptly. Draco struggled for breath and greedily
sucked air
into his lungs. He shook but at the same time a familiar heat coursed
through
him. He had never dreamt about this, but he could have done so easily.
When he
came back to himself, he saw Harry too was breathing heavily. He had
red spots
on his cheeks.



“Is
that
what you want?” Harry gasped. “Will you join the
line of my lovers? No one ever
lasted long.”



A
stab of
absurd jealousy went through Draco, but he ignored it. “For
ten years I dreamed
about you every night,“ he said. “My wife refused
to sleep with me because I
wake up with your title on my lips.”



“My
title?”
Harry stammered with big eyes.



Draco
crawled to him on his hands and knees. “Yes, Sir, your
title.”



Harry
retreated and Draco followed him until Harry hit the wall. He knelt
before his
feet. “I want to serve you how ever you want me,”
he said hoarsely. The
protesting little voice within him shivered and died. For the first
time in
years, he felt as if he did the right thing. And when he continued he
knew he
told the absolute truth. The truth beneath all the lies he and others
had
built. “Not because you broke me. Not because I was your
slave. Not even
because I love you. Only because you let me feel like nothing else can.
Touch
me, Harry. Can you feel the heat in me? Can you feel how fast my heart
beats?
Can you feel how painfully I desire you?”
He pressed against Harry’s
legs and pointedly kept his hands behind his back.



“God,
my
Dragon.” Harry groaned. It sent a shiver through
Draco’s body that Harry must
have felt as close as he was.



“Don’t
reject me again.” Draco said vehemently.
“That’s the one thing I’ll ever demand
of you. Don’t reject me.”



Harry’s
hand buried in his hair. “That’s Sir to you, my
Dragon.”



“Yes,
Sir.”
Draco said breathlessly.



“What
ever
I do, if you call me Master, I’ll stop.”



“Yes,
Sir.”



“Our
arrangement will stay a secret. For anyone else we can appear to be
friends,
but not lovers. The only exceptions are Tatjana and Severus, but only
if you
agree.”



The
thought
of Harry’s wife knowing about them worried Draco slightly,
but he suppressed
his unwillingness. “Whatever you deem best, Sir.”



Harry
pulled Draco’s head back, so he looked up at him.
“No, I want you to decide.
That’s the last rule. Regarding sex we are master and slave,
but nowhere else.”



Draco
nodded reluctantly. He wasn’t quite sure where this situation
fit. “I don’t
mind Severus knowing but do you really want to tell your
wife?”



“When
we
meet at my house it will be easier if she knows. Trust me, she wont
mind.”



“We
can
always meet at my place but we better keep my wife out of it. She
wouldn’t care
but I don’t trust her to be discreet.”



Harry
leaned back at the wall and stroked his hand through Draco’s
hair. “You live
separate?”



“She’s
got
her wing, I have got mine. As long as she doesn’t catch us in
a compromising
situation she won’t notice.”



“Good.”
Harry said thoughtfully. “We can limit
‘sex’ to our respective bedrooms.”



“And
the
odd office.” Draco replied with a small smile. He was
strangely unwilling to
rise to take back his status of equal. He was content to kneel at
Harry’s feet,
at least for the moment.



“And
the
odd office.” Harry repeated agreeably. Then he sighed.
“We’ll already be
missed, I’m afraid. No doubt we were seen leaving.”



“Yes.”
Draco closed his eyes and leaned his head at Harry’s thigh.
“We can tell them
that we buried our disagreement and now see ourselves as
friends.”



“Do
we?”
Harry asked. “I mean, outside of sex?”



Draco
smiled wryly. “Don’t be silly.” Harry
stiffened a bit. He was so predictable.
“I love you. I wouldn’t ever be satisfied with a
mere friendship.” Harry
relaxed and laughed softly.



“Brat.”
Harry chided gently. “If we didn’t have to go back
to the hall I would punish
you for your insolence.”



Draco
shivered
pleasantly. “Another time.”



“Yes.”
Harry said hoarsely. “Another time. Will you visit me next
weekend?”



“Do
you
still live in Godrics Hollow?”



“Yes.
I
never took you out of the protection charms.”



Draco
pushed closer to him. “That place’s got some bad
memories for me. Your room …?”



“No.
No, I
moved into another room.”



Draco
took
a deep breath. “Thank Merlin. It’s not as if I
hated everything you did to me,”
he added hastily. “It’s just …”



“Shush.”
Harry interrupted him. “I know. The room made me sick too,
afterwards.”



Draco
mutely nodded and took another deep breath of Harry’s scent.
Then he rose. They
looked at each other silently for a moment, then Harry reluctantly
reached out
and lightly stroked Draco’s cheek. Draco instinctively leaned
into the caress.



“Let’s
go.”
Harry said with regret in his voice.



Draco
sighed and nodded. “It’s just a week.
What’s a week compared to ten years?”



Harry
smiled fleetingly. “True.”



Draco
murmured a spell to get his clothes back in order and from the corner
of his
eyes saw Harry doing the same. Then they left the room to go back to
the hall.