Trophy

Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta Laurel for looking over this chapter for me. I give you part two of the party.

Chapter 8 By Invitation Only

Harry tried in vain to conceal his amusement at the sour frowns Draco bestowed upon him every time the blonde attempted to impress him with yet another rich and powerful guest. It was as if the former Slytherin knew nothing about what a position as Head Auror might entail. Didn’t he realize that Harry was forced to associate with these same people on a regular basis? Most of them even worked in his own building and Harry had daily contact with a few of them while working on various projects.

As entertained as he was by Draco’s persistent failure, it still irked him that the other man thought that all this fanfare was somehow the way to his heart. But then again, Harry had to remind himself that it wasn’t his heart that Malfoy was after.

The dinner had been uneventful, especially in comparison with the unexpected run-in he’d had with his ex, Xander. Just seeing the man from a distance tended to unravel Harry to the core, but having to stand there and talk to him, hug him… that had been a bit much, even after all the time that had passed.

After another several introductions and the same number of strikeouts for Draco, Harry sighed and wished he could flee back to the dark respite of Grimmauld Place. Draco must have noticed his sudden hesitance because he immediately pulled Harry away from the crowd and maneuvered himself very intimately against Harry’s side.

“I’m bored with these people,” Draco announced as if he planned to just snap his fingers and make the lot of them disappear. “I want to spend the rest of the evening with you.”

“We’ve been together the whole time,” Harry replied carefully, hoping to dissuade Malfoy from thinking he could talk his way upstairs.

“You know what I mean. I want to talk to you alone, dance with me,” he offered, his hand extended to Harry with no pretension, just hope glimmering in his eyes.

Harry’s immediate reaction was to refuse, a slow dance with Draco would break all his carefully constructed rules for the night, but the look in Draco’s eyes seemed genuine and Harry found it impossible to say no. He’d been holding tight to Draco’s side most of the evening as it was, so one small dance wouldn’t hurt anything.

He took the blonde’s hand without another word and let the man glide him onto the dance floor. Draco’s robes billowed around them as they twirled slowly on the floor and Harry felt mildly comfortable there in his arms. “So do you consider yourself successful tonight?” Harry asked with a bemused grin.

“For?” Draco asked, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“You’ve had Harry Potter as your date all night, you even got me to dance,” Harry replied.

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” Draco told him, and the line made Harry scoff harshly.

“You sound like a cheesy film,” Harry teased.

“I think I just have to give up trying to impress you,” Draco sighed in defeat.

Harry chuckled softly and shook his head in dismay. “It took you long enough to figure that out. Anyhow, nothing you’ve tried so far has been terribly impressive.”

“So what does impress you then?” Draco asked, seemingly honest in his interest.

Harry smiled as he thought about the blonde’s question. “Honesty, compassion, loyalty.”

Draco shook his head and laughed. “You sound like a Ministry advert.”

A slow blush crept across Harry’s cheeks as he realized Draco was right. Even here he used Ministry propaganda in reference to what he wanted in his life. Sure, it was all true, but what he wanted was more than any of those things; what he wanted was a deeper and more profound than the shallow meaning the Ministry had given those words.

“The feel of the wind in my hair as I fly over mountaintops, knowing that I’m so small and insignificant in comparison to the rest of the world impresses me. Seeing someone go out of their way to help someone else in need impresses me. Genuine laughter impresses me,” Harry mused, almost to himself, but Draco’s smile made it worth saying it all out loud. Regardless of the way Draco behaved sometimes, that smile was so brilliant that it nearly masked over all of his bad deeds. Nearly.

“I want to know everything there is to know about you, Harry,” Draco whispered and for a moment Harry even believed him.

“What about you then? What do you want out of life, Malfoy?” Harry asked, turning the tables.

The music stopped and shifted into another song, but Draco paused and held Harry still in his arms instead of gliding into the next dance. A serious glint of thought passed through his steely eyes and a moment later he frowned. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Harry rolled his eyes and moved to drop his hands but Draco held them steadfastly within his own. “I used to know, I used to know exactly what I wanted, but I’m not so sure anymore. Is it ridiculous to think that you could have somehow changed my mind?”

“Yes,” Harry blurted in response. “You don’t know me, Malfoy and I’m not so easily played as that. A soft line or two won’t crack me.”

“I’m not-“ Draco began, but quickly shook his head and sighed. “Right. Silly me.” It was an odd feeling that roiled through Harry’s body in that instant, he felt as if perhaps the Slytherin was being honest, just as Harry had requested, though he didn’t know why the man had decided to oblige him. Something about those icy gray eyes seemed to hold the key to Draco’s soul and Harry thought that he might eventually be able to read the other man like a book –even if it did end up just being a trashy romance novel.

Feeling emboldened by Draco’s seemingly sincere moment, Harry stepped forward, pressing their bodies together more closely. “Is this what you want, Draco?” Harry asked, letting his leg slide gently against Draco’s groin. “If this is all you want then lets just go upstairs and get it over with, shall we?” he offered, one hand tracing along Draco’s hip while the other remained firmly planted inside of Draco’s now sweaty grip.

The former Slytherin looked momentarily conflicted but eventually he shook his head. “I told you I want more than that and I meant it,” he replied at last.

A slow and careful smile curled the edges of Harry’s mouth and he spun Draco around, picking their dance up where it left off, although the music lighter and more upbeat than it had been.

“You were testing me, weren’t you?” Draco asked with a slight scowl as he realized what had just happened.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Harry replied cheekily, still smirking to himself.

“Gryffindors,” his date muttered and Harry smiled wider. He could hardly believe how well he was getting along with Malfoy, the man who sought Harry’s misery at every turn, but perhaps the man had changed as Hermione had suggested earlier that night. Maybe there was more to Draco Malfoy than the sharp pale exterior he let the world see, more than what he had read about in that infamous file of his. Either way it seemed Harry was inexplicably drawn to the man who should be his enemy.

His eyes must be what they referred to when they spoke about ‘windows to the soul’ and Draco’s thick blonde lashes fluttered elegantly against the luminescence of his face. His hair was practically a trademark, not only golden and brilliant, but perfectly arranged at all times, and then there were Draco’s lips, those petal pink lips that seemed to draw him in.

“Am I interrupting?” asked a familiar voice from behind him and Harry stepped back, realizing he had very nearly leaned in and captured those hypnotizing lips for his own. Harry turned and saw Xander standing there, looking rather awkward, a deep blush settling over his features.

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Draco’s breathing was rapid and shallow as he realized that Harry’s lips were hovering just above his own. His brain screamed at him to just finish what the Gryffindor had started and kiss him, but he knew that one wrong move might jeopardize any progress he had made with the love-shy hero. Harry had given him rules after all and if he was to achieve anything with him, he knew he would have to obey –to an extent. Instead he remained statue-still as he tried to brace himself for the urgent feel of those ruby red lips.

Unfortunately, Harry’s ex boyfriend had another plan and with a careless few words the man ruined Draco’s moment and pulled Harry’s attention away. His date blinked as if swimming to the surface of a delicious dream and then promptly broke their locked gaze to let those jewel-toned eyes fall on another.

“Xander?” Harry asked, as if he couldn’t believe the man was standing there.

“I wondered if I might cut in?” he asked them.

Harry glanced briefly at Draco and he panicked. He wasn’t sure what he should do, or what Harry would expect of him. He wondered if he should let Harry dance with his ex or should he hold his own and claim Harry for himself? In the end Draco just nodded and shot Harry a weak smile before striding to the edge of the crowd where he watched the couple resume a comfortable looking stance while they glided effortlessly around the floor.

The man who occupied the place on Draco’s arm all night was very distant, as if the Harry Draco knew lived a lifetime ago, which he supposed he did. Never had Draco wanted something so badly as he had wanted that kiss from Harry tonight, and then to have it spoiled at the last possible moment made Draco’s hand tense upon his wand. However, that would serve no higher agenda and would only make Draco feel better for a moment. No, tonight was about Harry; helping the other man to trust him and making him feel safe from the lecherous image of Draco Malfoy that Harry had stuck in his mind.

Still, watching Xander and Harry spin and dip along with the other guests made him wonder how much of the rumors about Harry’s past were true. He could still recall the headlines in the Prophet directly after the war. ‘Harry Potter Missing’. There had been some speculation that he had been somehow kidnapped by some of the Death Eaters still on the loose until word supposedly came in the form of a letter to the Weasley’s saying that Harry was well and that he just needed time to think –a break from the chaos he knew would surround him had he stayed in London after the war.

All Draco knew of Harry’s life after the war was what he had gleaned from the papers until he received a letter of his own. Not from Harry of course, but from an old family friend. The letter itself was unimportant, but it came along with holiday photographs of his friend, a tall lithe American Wizard named Ethan, at a wild party in Ibiza. This again would have been of little consequence if not for the presence of an ebony-haired wizard that hovered in the background of the same photo. In the image, Harry was dancing between two other men, their bodies pulsing to the beat as his head fell back to kiss the man behind him while roughly groping the man in front of him.

His friend apparently hadn’t realized the journalistic gold he had when he sent the photo to Draco. Instead of sending it off to Witch Weekly, however, Draco had clung to the picture and sought to learn more about the wanton man within it. For a year Draco’s life consisted of tracking the elusive Harry Potter, but he never turned up anything quite as juicy as that photo. That was the Harry he thought he was going to get, the Harry he thought he wanted, but his date tonight was not that man –he was much more than that.

Harry’s little test on the dance floor had shown Draco all he needed to confirm that pursuing the Gryffindor would be worth his effort. The man in that photo still lurked beneath the carefully constructed walls Harry had built around himself and Draco was desperate to break through. The reward would be sweeter than any and Draco could hardly wait to collect. Just the feel of Harry’s breath ghosting along his skin made Draco want more, and the heated look in those emerald eyes left Draco practically panting.

Draco let his gaze wander for a moment to check on his other guests, which he’d rather neglected most of the night, when he noticed a familiar white-blonde beacon on the other side of the ballroom. With a sudden surge of fury, Draco forgot his date and marched over to where his father stood chatting with the Minister.

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“Lucius,” his son intoned icily. “What are you doing down here?”

“It’s called mingling, Son,” Lucius replied with a subtle smirk. “You’ve done an excellent job with the party.” A little flattery could sometimes get him everywhere with the younger Lord Malfoy.

This time it wasn’t working however, and Draco simply rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid this party is by invitation only. Will you return to your room quietly or should I get security?” he asked simply.

“I wanted a chance to speak with Potter-“ he began.

“I’m sure you did, but unfortunately he’s busy,” Draco snapped.

“I saw. Already lost your date to another man,” Lucius mused with a slight smile and clucked his tongue sharply. “And here I thought I had taught you better than that.”

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously and crossed his arms over his chest in defiance. “I happened to have allowed Potter to dance with that man, and I’m not the least bit worried.”

Lucius could tell his son was lying, he taught him how to do it after all, and the boy would never admit weakness to anyone, let alone his own father. “I see. Was it your idea that they sneak away to the loo together as well?”

Draco’s eyes widened slightly and his head whipped around to see that Harry and Xander were no longer on the dance floor. “Security!” he called and two Aurors were at his side in an instant. “Take my father to his quarters, please, and make sure someone is stationed there at all times.”

Lucius merely chuckled. He had already seen enough and had gotten exactly what he’d come for. The look on his son’s face when Potter had leaned in and nearly kissed him had been priceless. Never had he seen Draco smile with such abandon, and when he talked with Harry his body language was that of a happy child again. It was just as his wife had predicted –not that he ever should have doubted her.

“I’ve missed you, Son,” Lucius told him with a smile and pulled him into a tight hug before allowing Draco squirm out of it.

“You’re mad,” he hissed and Lucius laughed heartily as the Aurors led him away. His son was falling for Harry Potter, and that might just be the only cure to the coldness Draco had been exhibiting these past few years. If love was all he needed to break through his son’s icy exterior, then he would do all he could to fan the flames.

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Draco watched anxiously as the team of Aurors led his father back upstairs, all the while he wanted to bolt off after Harry and see what the slippery Gryffindor was up to. As soon as Lucius was out of sight, Draco did just that. He walked as fast as his lithe legs would carry him without drawing too much attention and he made his way toward the back of the hall. Thankfully, he didn’t have to actually venture into the loo to find his date, but images of Harry half-nude in one of the stalls with his arsehole ex boyfriend still attacked his mind.

Draco found Harry in the corridor just outside the restroom doors, and much to his chagrin, Xander was there too. They hadn’t even noticed his arrival because they were deep in what looked to be a very heated conversation. Xander had Harry virtually pinned up against the wall as he leaned in and whispered to the stunning Gryffindor. Draco couldn’t hear what was being said but his heart raced at how intimate the position seemed.

With a sharp clearing of his throat he watched both men tense slightly as he walked over. “Harry, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Harry shut his eyes briefly and then gave Draco the full weight of his gaze before pulling himself away from Xander’s body. He strode over quickly and took Draco’s hand. “Sorry,” Harry conceded quickly. “My ex just had something he wanted to get off his chest, but I think we understand each other now,” he added, glancing defiantly back at Xander one last time before pulling Draco back toward the party.

Draco caught the other man’s eye as they left and if looks could kill, Draco would have been a puddle on the floor. As it was he simply looped his arm around Harry’s waist and shot the ex a withering sneer. “What was that about?” Draco asked when the crowd surrounded them once more.

Harry sighed and looked genuinely weary. “I-“ he began, but Draco put his fingers to Harry’s mouth and silenced him.

“Pretend I didn’t ask. If you’d rather not talk about it, I won’t pry,” he told his sullen looking Gryffindor. “But I was a bit lonely out here without my date.”

Harry smiled at him then, and it was that beautiful, rain-cloud-dispersing smile that Draco yearned to see on his face at all times. He hadn’t even known when the transition of wanting to crush Harry to crushing on Harry had occurred, but it had. “I suppose that means I should give you something for your troubles,” Harry offered with a smirk.

Draco pursed his lips as if thinking it over. “I could be persuaded to forgive you then, depending on what you’re offering, of course.”

With a chuckle Harry pulled Draco to him, not as intimately as he had on the dance floor but close enough. “How about a goodnight kiss,” he suggested.

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” Draco pouted.

Harry’s eyes flicked briefly toward the corridor they had just emerged from and he nodded briskly. “I think it’s for the best, but you could still have that kiss if you wanted it,” he added with a wink.

Beaming, Draco nodded and leaned in, expecting to finally get to touch Harry’s glorious, sweet looking lips, but instead was met with the smooth side of his cheek instead. He pulled back and saw Harry grinning before he pointed at the spot on his cheek once more. “You didn’t think I would kiss you on the lips on our very first date, did you?” he teased.

Draco grinned despite himself and planted a soft kiss on Harry’s face, but not where he had pointed. With a quick maneuver he kissed the space just slightly to the right of Harry’s mouth and he lingered there for just a moment before pulling away. Still clutching the Gryffindor’s face in his hands, Draco stared into his bright green eyes and smiled softly. “Does that mean there will be a second date?” he asked, not even aware that Harry’s friend had asked the same question before the night began.

“Are you asking?” Harry inquired cheekily.

“Not right this second, but I will,” Draco told him honestly.

Harry chuckled and let his hands stay longer than needed on Draco’s as he pulled away. “I suppose you’ll find out when you ask then, won’t you?”

“Insufferable Gryffindor,” Draco grumbled in jest.

“Impatient Slytherin,” Harry grumbled back and then turned to stride for the exit.

Draco stood there staring at the spot Harry had just occupied, smiling to himself at how light the man made him feel. Things were changing all around him and Draco couldn’t even bring himself to care, not when he had the pure emerald gaze of Harry’s eyes to look at. One date with Potter had turned his entire world upside down.

“He’ll never love you the way that you love him,” a voice told him sharply. Draco whirled around to see Xander leaning against the wall a meter away, a dull frown on his face.

“What makes you think that I love him at all?” Draco inquired, but even as he said the forbidden word a lump formed in his throat.

Harry’s ex simply shrugged. “Either way, Harry’s incapable of loving anybody.”

Draco didn’t indulge the other man with a response and instead made a quick round to bid farewell to his most important guests before slipping upstairs. He’d had a wonderful night with Harry and he wasn’t going to let some bitter ex ruin his good mood.

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Author's Note: Who likes to rock the party? I like to rock the party! Would anyone like a swing at Xander?