Healing

Authors Note: As you may have already seen (If you read any of my other stories), I'll be on vacation for a few days later this week extending into early next week, so I won't be able to update on those days. But don't pout just yet. Because of that, I'll be posting an extra chapter of each story before Thursday so that none of the stories get behind while I'm away. I'll have all the stories caught up to chapter 8 before I leave. yay! Thanks to my beta Alexandra as who is lovely as always.

Chapter 7 Eyes

“Potter?” Draco asked through the crack in the door, though it was fairly obvious that it was indeed his Gryffindor client. The man looked disheveled and was obviously still drunk.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Now, why would I allow that?” Draco replied with his own question. “Why don’t you go to Griffin’s place?” Draco asked, his voice laced with a bitterness he wished he didn’t feel.

“Who?” Harry asked, looking legitimately perplexed.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “The bloke you took home from the club,” he stated warily, trying to keep the anger from his voice.

“Oh, right. I forgot his name,” he said with a shrug. “So can I come in?”

He forgot his name? So what had happened? Had he fucked him? And further, why should Draco care? Those thoughts and many others mingled in Draco’s brain as he slammed the door in Potter’s face.

Hadn’t he just resolved not to let his feelings get in the way of his treatment? Would letting Potter in now be a help or a hindrance to his recovery?

Resignedly, he opened the door again and peeked out. “Why did you come?” he asked Potter’s retreating form.

“Because I needed to see you,” he replied without turning around.

Draco sighed, unlatched the door and stepped back to let Harry pass. He turned around and smiled weakly at Draco.

“I thought this place might be yours. When I woke up here that day I wasn’t sure, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to fit,” Harry said.

“Yeah well, just because you’re a Gryffindor doesn’t mean you’re completely retarded so I’m not surprised you figured it out,” Draco sneered.

Harry just laughed, not even bothering to defend himself. “So you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here?”

Draco nodded. Potter was obviously still drunk and Draco hated that. He wanted Harry to be sober for any of their interactions so he went and started a kettle of tea. He might even add some pepper up potion to the mix and try to clear his head.

“Ron came over,” Harry began without prompting. “He caught me… in a compromising position.”

Draco clenched his fists tightly and was happy that he wasn’t within sight of Potter. He had a feeling the fine controls he had over his expressions had slipped at his words. “Oh?” was all he felt he could say without the anger trickling into his voice.

“Yeah. He wanted to tell me that Gin’s getting married,” Harry added.

That news, for some reason, had the opposite effect on Draco’s mood. “Weaselette?” He asked “That’s good news right?” It was to Draco. It was a key point in Harry’s development. It should represent a closure of sorts, which Harry hadn’t had with his old life before then.

“I’m happy for her, but it’s weird, you know? I spent years thinking it would be me to marry her… but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” Harry said, his voice only tinged slightly with regret. It was a big step.

“And Ron? What happened there?” Draco asked.

Harry sighed. “Well, like I said… he caught me. I was with Griffin obviously, and he left and Ron started yelling at me. He was accusing me of degrading myself by being with a man, and told me I wasn’t gay and that you were full of shit and using me…” his voice trailed off when Draco interrupted him.

“Wait, you told him about me?” he asked hurriedly. The whole center could be compromised if Ron got a hair up his arse and tried to shut it down.

“Well, he sort of guessed, actually.… Hey, am I going to lose my memory now?” Harry asked.

Draco inclined his head. “Did you just tell him about me, or did you say anything else?”

“Just you,” he replied after thinking it over.

“You should be fine. We’ll know for sure in the morning,” he added. “Here, drink this,” he said giving Harry the tea.

“So you and Griffin?” Draco asked. He kept a firm control on his face as he did. He justified that he was asking because he needed to know for Potter’s case, and it might be partly true, but he was really just asking because he had to know for himself.

Harry laughed. “I… er… jerked him off and then Ron came in. He got dressed and bolted after that,” Harry said. “He wasn’t you, that’s for sure.”

Draco held the teacup to his mouth to hide his smile at Harry’s words. He had never been so thankful for Weasley’s inconvenient timing before. “Of course he wasn’t me. No one can match my perfect grace,” he said in his best haughty tone, holding his face up in the air and looking down his nose at Harry.

Harry only grinned. “No one can match your perfect arse either.”

There was nothing Draco could do to hide the blush, so he made it into something else entirely. “Potter, you shouldn’t say things like that. You’re my client. It’s not professional for you to talk to me that way.”

“If I’m your client, shouldn’t I get what I want? The customer is always right, you know?” Harry said with a mischievous grin.

Draco groaned, wanting to lick that grin right off his face. “I’m not sure it works that way.”

Harry looked skeptical. “I’m pretty sure it does.”

“And what is it the client wants?” Draco knew he was going to regret asking that, but couldn’t help himself.

Harry paused. “To sleep here,” he said finally. “I feel better just being near you,” he added quieter.

Had he not added the last bit, Draco would have refused him, or at least that was what he told himself. But if it would help Harry, he could allow it. Right?

“Come on then,” Draco said, holding out his hand to Potter.

Harry blinked rapidly. “Seriously? I thought it would be much harder to convince you.”

Draco laughed. “You can sleep in my guest room.”

Harry shook his head. “I want to sleep in your room.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine, you can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

Harry shook his head again and Draco was growing impatient. “I want to sleep with you.”

“Oh,” Draco muttered. He wasn’t sure about that. Something said that was crossing a line. “I can’t do that, Potter. You can sleep in my bed, and I’ll wake you up before I leave in the morning. That’s all I can offer.”

Harry sighed and pouted but Draco just shook his head. Finally Harry took his hand and Draco led him back to the master bedroom.

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“This is your room?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with awe.

The room was beautiful, light and airy. The walls were pale blue with chocolate brown molding and the bed was a large wooden canopy with billowing cream gossamer fabric draped around it. The bedding was ice blue and very plush looking, and all of the accent pillows – and there were several – were some shade of light blue or dark brown. It was lovely and restful and not at all what Harry had expected.

Draco gave him an odd look; he had been doing that since Harry had arrived. “I would have thought you snooped around when you were here last.”

Harry only shrugged. “I guess I’m not the type to skulk around stranger’s flats when they’re not there.”

He pulled back the coverlet and Harry climbed in. “The color brings out the blue in your eyes,” Harry mumbled. He was starting to look sleepy.

“I have no blue in my eyes, Potter,” he scoffed, a touch of hurt in his voice.

“Yes,” Harry corrected. “You do.”

“My eyes are gray. One would think that someone who had spent their entire school career shooting me dirty looks would at least know the color of my eyes,” he added mockingly.

“Your eyes are not gray,” Harry said. “Gray is too mundane a word to describe them. They’re like molten silver, liquid mercury,” he added.

Draco’s heart skipped for a moment. “Still, they’re not blue,” he said quickly, trying to mask the emotion he felt at Harry’s words. Harry was just drunk and tired. He didn’t even know what he was saying.

“mmm, but they are. When you get close,” Harry started, and suddenly his eyes were wide and awake and boring into Draco’s, “and I have been close, there are flecks of blue. Icy and cold and beautiful.”

Draco turned away in order to school his face again. When he turned back, Harry’s eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. Draco walked over and placed a soft kiss on his forehead and then left the room.

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Authors Note: I hope to have lots of reviews when I get back