The Foundation

The Foundation

By Newshound

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are the exclusive property of J.
K. Rowling. This fiction is entirely for entertainment purposes and no
money is being made from it.

Chapter 8: The Cure

"Draco!" Davinci shouted, pulling his friend around. "Let him be."

"What am I going to do Davinci?" Draco cried. "I've screwed it all up."

"I'll talk to him," Davinci said bracingly. "I'll get him to agree to speak with you so you two can settle this."

"I'll be at my office if you need me," Draco said sadly. "Floo me there, okay?" He walked a short distance and Apparated away.

Davinci, as usual, had been left to clean up the mess.

* * * * *

Once again Harry found himself desperately seeking the sanctuary of his home. Unfortunately, this time, he knew of no pain potion that would ease the ache in his heart.

Seeing Draco had been such a shock this morning. He'd spent a good bit of time this weekend thinking about Draco and what had happened the other night. His emotions had been all over the spectrum, everything from guilt, embarrassment, worry, confusion to excitement, arousal and relief. What really bothered him was the fact that he'd deceived Draco - used him to get what he wanted. Sex hadn't been anything close to what he'd imagined, but he had only himself to blame for it.

Seeing him had to have been equally uncomfortable for Draco, but he had been a perfect gentlemen throughout the ceremony. Draco had handled the situation with his usual aplomb and dignity. He had made his welcoming remarks with more poise than Harry imagined possible under the circumstances. They were the words of a gracious, humble host.

His enthusiasm for and dedication to the camp was evident not only in the words he spoke, but in passion with which he spoke them. He described the camp and its purpose in such loving detail that Harry felt himself becoming even more committed to its success. He had initially thought the camp was a wonderful idea when Davinci had first presented the details to him, but now he was convinced it was truly divine inspiration. A brilliant way to help disadvantaged wizards overcome sometimes seemingly insurmountable obstacles to success.

It wasn't just the disadvantaged; art and musical talent was rarely developed or encouraged at traditional wizarding academies. Draco's commitment to the personal development of young wizards - and witches - was what impressed Harry most. You could tell just by listening to Draco that he wasn't just paying it lip service, he truly believed in the camp and its mission. Harry didn't know how any of the invited guests could fail to be inspired by Draco's ambitious plan.

The only thing more impressive than Draco's oratory skills was his physical presence. He was immaculately groomed, dressed in the finest, most fashionable robes. He exuded confidence and self assurance and when he turned around to give the stage over to Harry for his presentation, the effect was almost overwhelming.

Draco looked directly at him, a warm smile gracing his handsome features. It was a smile that seemed meant only for him and a look that said he was appreciated, accepted and desired. A look so intense it almost took his breath away and he could only gaze back helplessly lost in those smoky grey eyes.

"You're on, Harry," Draco had said, voice barely above a whisper. "Knock 'em dead."

Harry remembered almost none of his speech. He could feel Draco's eyes on him, like a physical touch. He tried to do his best because he wanted the event to be a success for Draco; wanted Draco to have the full support and involvement of the wizarding community. His unguided tour of the camp had opened his eyes to a world he'd never dreamed existed.

He felt at home immediately upon entering the classrooms. He sensed that he belonged there, with the paint and the plaster, with easels and canvas. The rooms were airy and open, some even had skylights. Bookshelves lined one entire wall and Harry peeked at several volumes depicting oil paintings techniques and examples. The room seemed so full of possibilities, so full of imagination and creativity that it drew him in and held him. He felt exactly the way he had in the split second before Draco had pushed inside him. The heart-stopping adrenalin rush knowing that nothing would ever be the same - a life changing moment.

He left the classrooms wanting to see auditorium where students would give music recitals and art shows. The auditorium wasn't lavish or grand, but perfectly suited to an aspiring artist or budding musician. The seats were plush and comfortable, the stage large and imposing. This wasn't some hastily thrown together mish mash of buildings. It had been designed with a great deal of planning and insight, not only in the construction of the facilities, but in the curriculum and the appointment of directors and counselors.

He attempted to convey all of his discoveries into his presentation and he assumed he had because when he finished he received a hearty round of applause. Draco stood up and moved next to him, smiling happily and threw a friendly arm across his shoulders.

He let Draco manage the tour, speaking only when prompted. Draco was truly in his element, every ounce of pride in his project evident. He was familiar with almost every detail of the camp, but most of the visitors seemed overwhelmed as Harry had initially been. Draco had put his heart and soul into every building, every room, every detail and it showed.

The only downside during the tour was when a stupid, annoying reporter - Harry couldn't remember his name - kept badgering him and making blatantly flirtatious remarks. Harry wanted to tell him off, but he was reluctant to alienate a member of the press. He knew Draco would need to keep a good working relationship with the Prophet and he didn't want to do anything to endanger that.

After he'd ignored yet another obvious come-on, the man had finally taken the hint. "I guess your interest lies elsewhere?" he said, glancing furtively at Draco. Harry shrugged, not wanted to commit himself. Reporter man and Draco had already had words and Harry didn't want to make it worse. Reporter man was persistent though; he continued to pester him and Harry tuned him out, nodding his head and giving monosyllabic responses at what he hoped were the appropriate times.

His mind wandered back to Draco's earlier touch, possessive and firm, the feel of Draco's body pressed against his, how he'd looked at him, his warm inviting smile and those smoky grey eyes looking into his with such passionate, abandoned longing - wanting him, needing him.

All of a sudden he noticed reporter man staring at him waiting. "Well, what's your answer Harry?" he said.

"Uh, yes?" Harry said absentmindedly looking for Draco.

"I'll Floo you tomorrow, then," reporter man had said reaching for his hand. Harry quickly shook it, returning to his search for Draco in earnest. He located Draco ahead, surrounded by the tour group. As he watched Draco beaming with pride and satisfaction at a successful opening ceremony, he felt completely tongue-tied, totally out of his league.

Then he'd made his stupid, inane remark that had started - and ruined - everything. In a few short minutes he'd gone from blissfully happy to hurt beyond belief.

"Harry?" Davinci called. "You there?" Damn! He'd forgotten to ward the Floo!

* * * * *

After arriving at his office, Draco locked the door, poured himself a tall glass of firewhiskey from the cabinet and sat behind his desk. When he'd woken up this morning he'd had no idea things would go the way they had. The ceremony had been a resounding success, at least he had that.

After completing his introductory remarks, Draco sat down watching the audience for its response to Harry's presence. Most of them watched with obligatory polite attention, nodding their heads and smiling their approval. One wizard, however, was giving Harry attention of a different sort.

His name was Derek Taylor if Draco recalled correctly and he was a reporter for the Daily Prophet. His gaze traveled slowly up and down Harry's body several times and the rest of the time bore the unmistakable stamp of physical attraction. Draco couldn't help but recognize the signs, sleepy, half-lidded eyes, the occasional softly bitten lower lip and nervous, fidgety hands. He glared at Taylor, mentally willing him to look over so he could fix the man with his most malevolent stare. Taylor, however, continued to pay visual homage to Harry throughout both presentations and led the applause when Harry finished. He would have to keep a close eye on Mr. Taylor.

When their guests had gathered for the tour, Taylor elbowed his way to the front of the group, showing an unwarranted amount of enthusiasm, in Draco's opinion. Draco watched Harry carefully to see if he'd noticed Taylor, especially to see if his interest was returned. Harry, as usual, was oblivious to everything around him. "Lead the way Draco," he said, smiling at Draco.

"Let's start with the auditorium, shall we?" Draco began, leading the group toward the auditorium Harry had so admired. Occasionally he spotted Taylor trying to catch Harry's eye, but to Draco's delight, Harry's attention remained squarely on him. He got so caught up in the tour, Taylor's flirtatious behavior was almost forgotten.

When Draco stopped the group on its way from the classrooms to the dormitory to entertain questions, Taylor's obsession reared its ugly head. He threw Draco a combative look before glancing around the crowd.

"We haven't heard much from Mr. Potter," remarked Taylor. ""Not monopolizing the tour are you, Malfoy?"

"I'm not sure I could add anything of value to what Draco's told you," Harry replied politely. "The camp is Draco's baby after all."

"What does that make you?" Taylor asked eyeing Harry speculatively. "The doting father?"

"No," Harry said laughing and shaking his head. "Just a very proud godfather." He sensed Draco moving closer to him pressing against his side and suddenly, he felt Draco's hand gently caress the small of his back before sliding possessively up it, coming to rest on his shoulder. He squeezed Harry's shoulder gently, drawing his attention. Harry looked over at him expectantly and Draco smiled warmly at him. He cleared his throat loudly and stared pointedly at Taylor.

"Both Mr. Potter's interest and support are greatly ah, appreciated," Draco answered. He turned again to look at Harry during the pause in his answer and Harry couldn't help but notice the dilated pupils in the smoky grey eyes and feel the smoldering tension as those hungry eyes seemed to devour him. The eyes then darted a quick look at his mouth before he turned and once again, faced their audience.

When they resumed the tour, Draco noticed, to his irritation, that Taylor had engaged Harry, walking beside him on their way to the dormitories. Harry was talking, with a great deal of animation it seemed, to Taylor, smiling at him and laughing at several comments spoken too softly for Draco to overhear. They slowly drifted toward the back of the group as the tour progressed.

"Perhaps you two would like to rejoin the group?" Draco said in an icily polite tone. "I would hate for anyone to get lost."

"Sorry, Draco," Harry said apologetically. The supercilious sneer on Taylor's face made Draco's temper flare and he had to squelch a nasty response to both men.

He gave the rest of the tour his full attention, determined to ignore the two men who now stood quite close to each other. When he saw Harry throw Taylor a shy glance, he frowned and as quickly as he felt the uncontrollable facial expression, forced himself to smile.

"If there's no more questions," Draco began, giving the polite hint that the tour was now over. "I would like to thank everyone for coming and for all your support which has made this camp a reality."

The crowd of wizards slowly began to break up and Draco watched furiously as Taylor shook Harry's hand. "I'll Floo you tomorrow, then," Draco heard him say. He didn't know how to respond when he saw Harry approaching him. He knew he had no right to be upset, but he just couldn't help himself, especially when he heard Harry's remark. He'd spent the last 30 minutes or so flirting outrageously with a poor excuse for a journalist and now he was trying to be nice?

He couldn't believe the conversation that had followed. He had acted like a jealous, insecure fool. He sighed heavily, it was highly unlikely that Davinci could persuade Harry to speak with him. Harry had every right to never speak to him again. He took a long sip from his second glass of firewhiskey.

* * * * *

"Davinci, please, I'm not in the mood for visitors," Harry pleaded. "Just go away."

"Harry I need to ask a favor of you," Davinci said. "There's been an emergency at the exchange and I need to leave right away, but my sister is supposed to call with some important news. Would you be willing to housesit for an hour or so while I straighten this out? I really don't want to miss her call. It won't take more than an hour, I promise!"

"Oh, all right," Harry agreed reluctantly. "Not more than that, though."

"You are wonderful, Harry," Davinci said. "Thank you so much."

Harry gathered a book he'd been reading and Flooed to Davinci's apartment.

* * * * *

"Draco!" Davinci cried. "You must come immediately, it's important."

"What now?" Draco said impatiently. "Have you spoken to Harry, yet?"

"Don't worry about that," Davinci scolded. "I need you here right away."

"Okay, just let me put up this firewhiskey," Draco said and by the time he turned around, Davinci had vanished.

* * * * *

When Harry arrived at Davinci's apartment, it was empty and Harry assumed his friend had already left. He made himself at home, setting his book down on the table next to the sofa and entered the kitchen deciding to make himself a cup of tea. He heard the rustle of the Floo and stood in the doorway, expecting to see Davinci's sister's head in the Floo.

He was shocked to see Draco step out of the Floo instead.

* * * *

"Davinci!" Draco called loudly, stepping out of the Floo looking around for his friend. "Just what was so important that I had to come right away?"

Davinci was nowhere to be found, but there, standing right in front of the entrance to the kitchen, was Harry - an extremely confused Harry.

"Davinci just left," Harry said, a puzzled look on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Fuck this," Draco thought. The time for talking was over, now it was time for action. He strode over to Harry, watching with a great deal of pleasure the look on Harry's face change from one of disbelief to anticipation. He stopped right in front of Harry, fully aware of Harry's wide eyes and parted lips and wrapped his arms tightly around him. He leaned in, giving those lips a short, sweet kiss - just to test the waters - before kissing them firmly.

"Harry, I am so sorry," he said after he'd thoroughly kissed what had become very responsive lips. "I am so sorry for what I said today, everything I said today, especially what I said after you'd told me you were a virgin. And I'm sorry for the way I treated you the other night, the way I behaved. Can you ever forgive me?"

"The other night?" Harry asked. "Why would I need to forgive you for the other night?"

"Because I was insensitive, demanding and rough," Draco answered as if it were obvious, letting go of him and stepping back. "Because I hurt you, Harry."

"That's probably mostly my fault," Harry said. "I really should have told you, before we went to your place."

"Why didn't you say something then?" Draco said. "You could have told me."

"I didn't want to tell you, Draco," Harry admitted. "I thought you wouldn't go through with it. At first I thought you wouldn't want to have sex with someone who hadn't done that before. Then I realized you'd refuse because of the condition you were in; you were pretty drunk, after all. I knew you'd think it was wrong to take my virginity while we were both drunk and high, so I kept it to myself.

"Draco, after we'd spent a bit of time on the balcony I realized this was my chance to lose my virginity without anyone actually knowing, without me having to explain things. I thought you'd be too drunk to notice or care. I knew you wanted me and I took advantage of that. I should have been hones, but I never dreamed you'd see it as something unpleasant."

"Harry, you wouldn't touch me, talk to me or look at me," Draco said, his voice rising. "What was I supposed to think?"

"I thought I did okay," Harry said. "I don't understand why you're acting this way."

"Harry," Draco said, taking a deep breath and trying to control his temper. "I thought you didn't respond to me because you really didn't want to be there. I thought I'd manipulated you, pressured you into having sex. I thought I took advantage of you by getting you drunk and high."

"Why would you think that?" Harry said confused.

Because I tore your shirt!" Draco said frustrated. "Because when you hesitated by the fireplace, I pulled you into the bedroom. I pulled your clothes off, Harry. I was angry when you wouldn't look at me, wouldn't answer me, so I grabbed you and fucked you as hard as I could, that's why!"

"Well, that part wasn't too great, I'll admit, but tearing off my shirt and ripping off my clothes was really hot," Harry said. "You definitely didn't take advantage of me, trust me. And watching you by the wardrobe was beyond hot."

"Wait a minute," Draco said shocked. "What you're telling me is that you used me, took advantage of me so you wouldn't have to be a virgin anymore?"

"Kind of," Harry answered nervously.

"So it wasn't ever about me," Draco said quietly. "It was about getting fucked, didn't matter who. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Okay, whoa," Harry said cautiously, shaking his head.

"No," Draco said angrily. "I spent the entire weekend tormented by guilt over the way I'd treated you, convinced I'd done something horrible and now you tell me I was just a convenient fuck? It didn't even matter? You never wanted me, if you had you would have been honest with me."

"And what, you wanted a deep, meaningful relationship?" Harry said defensively.

"I asked you to stay Harry. I wanted you to stay," Draco said passionately. "You left!"

"And what was I supposed to do, Draco?" Harry answered. "Say, 'hey, you don't mind if I rummage around in your cabinets for some pain potion for my arse that you tore up, do you?'"

"I wouldn't have done that if you'd told me," Draco said, shutting his eyes and quickly looking away.

"No, you wouldn't have done anything!" Harry said. "That's the point. You want me to say I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry. I made a bad decision, but I never meant to make you feel bad. I never thought you would take it the way you did."

"I don't remember most of it, Harry," Draco confessed anguished. "Only certain parts, like the fireplace, and the wardrobe and ripping your shirt. I'm sorry Harry, I never meant to hurt you."

"I know you didn't," Harry said. "I thought we'd just have some fun and then go our separate ways -"

"So you thought you were just another piece of arse to me," Draco said interrupting him. "You think I just fuck people and walk away from them."

"Don't you?" Harry answered.

"Why would you want to give your virginity to someone who doesn't care about you?" Draco said, not answering the question.

"Draco, no one wants a virgin. Not one who's 21, that's for sure!" Harry said. "You think I want to tell someone this? Hey, guess what, I know it's only our second date, but just in case, I've never had sex before, thought you should know. People have sex for fun, how much fun can it be to nurse someone through their first time?"

"A lot, if you like them, Harry," Draco said. "Besides, you make it sound like a disease."

"It might as well be," Harry said.

"And I was the cure," Draco said, hurt.

End Chapter 8