Changing Minds in Hard Times

Lunch had never been so enjoyable before, though Draco was sure he’d tasted better. After Harry had agreed to stop calling him Malfoy, they had started talking. The subjects they discussed were nothing to really think on. It seemed only fitting that they spend time re-assessing each other, and learning things they previously hadn’t bothered to learn.



For instance, Draco now knew that Harry was quite the collector of rubber duckies, though he claimed it was only for Mr. Weasley, who was intensely interested in all things muggle. Draco also had learned that ever since Harry had gone through the terrors of Dolores Umbridge’s tyranny, he couldn’t look at a magic enhanced kitten picture without finding the fastest way to distroy it. That had led to Harry having to hand over quite a few galleons on his one and only antique hunting experience with Hermione, since he had smashed the store’s entire collection of merchendise covered in mewling kittens with one burst of wild magic.



Of course, nobody could blame Harry for wanting to distroy those things. And only the fact that some of the items had been worth a lot caused the store owner to even suggest the idea of payment for the loss. Harry was repentant, and more then willing to pay.



Draco felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that he had aided that woman in her hypocracy, but Harry quickly swept it aside. Harry refused to live in the past. Every day was a new day, and though he wouldn’t give up a clear shot at revenge on some people, he was certainly not going to dwell on it.



Harry turned back to the tray of food, and quickly located the tea, sugar cubes, and milk. He made himself a cup with a bit of milk, and looked to Draco for what he might want in his own tea.



“Two sugars and a little milk.” The blond said, lounging against the chair in a relaxed position, still shirtless. Harry nodded, prepared the cup of steaming tea, and handed it to the other man. Having magic, and being able to use it for simple things like keeping the tea warm, was a wonderful thing to the man still fairly new to the world of magic.



Then it was Harry’s turn to learn more about Draco. He leaned back and watched the Slytherin prince sip his tea, his mouth turning up at the corners in a small smile. He set down his teacup and rested his hands on his legs, trying to look nonchalant, though in reality he was wiping his sweaty palms on the fabric of his jeans.



Draco opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly felt as if he could speak no lies, or even his normal half-truths. He closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows, looking across the table at Harry with open suspicion.



The brunette Gryffindor smiled winningly. “Silly me. It looks like I used the sugar mixed with the tell-all serum Hermione developed. It’s so much more effective then veristserum, wouldn’t you know.”



Draco almost laughed. Harry, the Hero of the Side of Light, Dumbledore’s Golden Boy, had slipped him a potion. Could he get any more Slytherin? He leaned back into his seat and smiled pleasently.



“Why Harry, I didn’t think you had it in you.” Then he did laugh. A genuine, happy laugh. What did it matter if Harry slipped him a potion or two? At least he knew Harry cared enough to find out the whole truth.



“So then, what is it you want to know so badly?”



“What’s the full extent of the propecy about you and me?” Harry asked, sitting up straighter and leaning forward slightly.



Draco sighed and leaned back against the chair. He should have known.



“You might not like it, Harry. I don’t know how much you know about Wizarding traditions and such, but I’m sure you don’t know this much.”



Harry stared at him, looked down at his tea, away to the window, back to his tea.



“I need to know, Draco. I need to know what has to happen. If you are my weapon against Voldemort, I need to know how to…” He swallowed hard, “use you.”



Harry’s eyes met frantically with Draco’s as he tried to explain. “Not that I want to use you Draco, please, you have to believe that I would never do what Voldemort or the death eaters did to you and…”



Draco cut him short as he stood, walked the perhaps three feet to get around the table to Harry, and pressed his lips to those of the paranoid man still seated.



“Harry, don’t worry about it. I know you wouldn’t hurt me intensionally.”



The blond pulled away, gently caressing the other man’s face, watching him with his closed eyes, flushed face, and heavy breathing. He was beautiful. Even more so then the man Draco had fantasized over since first year, or watched in the locker room in later years. Or maybe he just thought that because he finally had an excuse to touch the man of his dreams without being punched out or yelled at.



He leaned in, intent on kissing those tender, slightly reddened lips again. He got so close, their breath intermingled, smelling of spiced tea and the ginger cookies Mrs. Weasley had made. Draco pressed his lips down onto the waiting ones below him, and groaned encouragement when a hand that wasn’t his own began to unzip his muggle jeans and reached in to bring out his hardening length.



Harry had never felt so brazen before. Touching parts of another man that caused an answering tingle in his own parts. He hadn’t conciously thought about doing this, here and now, but oh, how he wanted it.



He was just about to wrap his palm around the thick shaft of Draco’s manhood, when the door swung open and Tonk’s rushed in, halfway into some sentence she was trying to tell to Harry. Her eyes grew wide just as she was pushed aside, and there stood Mad-Eye Moody, his crazy eye almost spinning as it took in the situation. He raised his wand and fired a quick but extreamly powerful Expelliarmus at the standing blond man.



Draco went flying towards the window, his cock still hanging out of his jeans. He first hit the wall, hard, and then dropped painfully onto the floor. He groaned and tried to move, to get up, to say something even. But he was nearing unconciousness.



Harry sat up as soon as Draco’s body was forcfully propelled away from him. His erection was immediatly gone. All he wanted to to make sure Draco was ok, exact his revenge on Moody for bursting in unannouced, and then make everyone leave the room so he could tend to the blond’s aches and pains.



The eyes of everyone in the room watched as Harry stood quickly and ran over to the blond. “Draco! Are you ok? Can you hear me? Can you sqeeze my hand?” He gently squeezed at the other man’s hand, hoping for some reciprocation. There was a slight movement of Draco’s fingers, it could have been only a twitch, or a spasm of his muscles, but Harry chose to cling to it as if it were a sure sign Draco had heard him.



He looked up. Moody was the closest, within four feet to Draco’s prone body. “Moody! How dare you! Get out. Get out all of you!” Harry almost screamed.



The older man looked down on the pair with a hint of revulsion. “Boy, he’s tricked you good. He’s a dark wizard, Harry. Doesn’t care about you more then what he needs to to get what he wants.”



“No! You’re wrong! He was telling me the truth…I slipped him Hermione’s tell-all serum. He wasn’t lying.”



“He has, boy. Now step aside. You’ve had your chance to get the truth from him. Now leave it to someone who knows what they are doing.” He pushed Harry aside, ignoring the younger man’s protests, and carried the unconcious Draco from the room.