Chocolat

Title: Chocolate
Author: Ravenna C. Tan
Email ravenna_c_tan +at+ yahoo
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: "Chocolate" in the 100 Quills Fest.
Word Count: 1644
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Warnings: Sweetness.
Disclaimer: I wrote this fanfic for completely non-commercial enjoyment. All characters are not mine and are copyrighted and trademarked by their owners/publishers.
Summary: Chocolate makes a great gift.

CHOCOLATE
by Ravenna C. Tan

Harry Potter looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn't like he had never been to Malfoy Manor before, but he felt nervous. Nervous because this would be the first time he had been invited him to come. Harry had woken up that morning with a ludicrous question forming in his mind. What should he wear?

Surely Draco didn't expect anything of Harry other than his usual trainers and jeans and sweatshirt?

And what if he does? Harry found himself unaccountably nagged by the thought that he might. Almost as much as he was nagged by the thought that he cared what Draco Malfoy thought of him.

He could almost hear the argument in Hermione's voice: This is the same Draco Malfoy who used to humiliate you at school? Who let the Death Eaters in? Hello?

But the argument rang hollow. Draco had been a model citizen since the war, lending a hand to Harry's werewolf rehabilitation efforts, providing money to the charity and even brewing Wolfsbane to bolster the supply. Last week when Harry had gone to bring a new batch of ingredients, Draco had invited him to dinner. Casually. Or so it had seemed at the time. Harry had agreed before he'd had a chance to really think about it.

What does he want from you? he asked himself. Whatever you do, don't ever admit that you wank off to thoughts of him in the shower.

Harry wandered down to Diagon Alley with the question still on his mind. Draco was Lord Malfoy, technically, wasn't he? So it was kind of a big deal to be asked to dine, wasn't it? Harry really wasn't sure.

He went into Flourish and Blott's, hoping to find a book that might illuminate the subject of Wizarding world etiquette. He recalled the dither that the Dursley's had gone into whenever they had a dinner guest, and whenever they had gone to someone else's as well, though of course Harry had never accompanied them. One didn't bring an inmate of St. Brutus School for Incurably Criminal Boys as a dinner guest.

Still. Harry reminded himself he was neither incurably criminal nor a child. A total lack of proper upbringing in this regard wouldn't keep him from showing whatever common decency demanded. Not if he could help it.

He was interested to find there was an entire shelf devoted to etiquette books and he ran his finger over the spines, reading the titles. 101 Ways to Say Thank You For Under Ten Galleons, Hammacher's Guide to Handfasting Rituals, International Etiquette for Business Wizards.

A middle-aged witch carrying a stack of books in her arms sidled along the aisle. The quill stuck into her bun brushed Harry's nose as she squeezed past him. "Can I help you find something, dear?" she said, doubling back suddenly.

"Er, well..." Yeah, do you have any books on whether to give a bottle of wine to the Wizard whom you desperately want to fuck, only if you did, you're pretty sure it would a bad idea? The fucking, not the wine, that is? Harry blushed in spite of himself.

"It's all right, young man," she said, shifting the stack of books into her left arm and pushing her glasses up her nose with her right index finger. "I see what shelf you're looking at. You can ask me anything."

That made Harry smile. "Well, I've been invited to dinner."

"By a witch or a wizard?"

"A wizard. Um, old acquaintance of mine. Very old Wizarding family."

"Rich?"

"Uh, yeah. So, it's dinner at the family estate..."

"Here." She handed him the stack of books, which Harry took before he could protest, and she ran her finger over the spines. "Is it just you two, or will the whole family be there?"

"Um, just us."

"And does this wizard have a romantic interest in you?"

Harry's blush deepened.

She looked him up and down. "Or would you say there is another reason for the invitation? Business, family alliance, political issue, or camaraderie?"

Harry did not know which it could be. "I guess... romantic interest is probably the closest." At least, that's what my right hand is hoping. All that wanking gets pretty tiring.

She took the books back and examined him with pursed lips. "And are the romantic feelings... mutual on your part?"

"Uh, yeah. You could say that. Though it's complicated. And I don't know if it will work out. Or even if it's a good idea, really."

She nodded once. "There's no book here that can help you."

He slumped in disappointment. "I'm just trying to figure out if I should I bring a gift. Do you...?"

"Yes," she said, before he could complete his request for help. She thought for a moment. "Yes, bring a gift. But do not bring flowers. And if it's a large estate, don't bring wine. He'll have a whole cellar of better. Wear a good pair of shoes and your cleanest shirt. Something with a collar, mind you. And..." she paused once more as she looked him over a final time.

"Comb my hair?" Harry guessed.

"...be yourself," she finished, giving him a sly little smile. "Can I suggest that a book makes a great gift?" And with that, she walked away, disappearing at the end of the aisle toward the foreign language books.

In the end, though, Harry could not decide on a book. He didn't know what Malfoy liked, or even what he had already in the vast library at the Manor. It made Harry uncomfortable to think that he knew so little about him, really. Can't even pick out a book he might like. How do you expect to get anywhere with him? He left the shop feeling frustrated and more apprehensive than ever.

As for a clean shirt with a collar, there were old school shirts and not much else. He made his next stop at Madam Malkin's, where he was happy to find them very helpful in picking out a forest green shirt of fine muslin that came pre-treated with a charm against wrinkles and stains.

But he still had no gift. He'd been sure that a bottle of wine would be a good idea, because they could share it. But the bookstore clerk had been quite firm on that. He passed by the colorful storefront that was Fred and George's--somehow he doubted that the twins would be a good source of advice on this matter.

On his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, though, a shop window caught his eye he hadn't noticed before. Inside, he found a Belgian witch forming truffles individually with deft swirls of her wand.

"May I 'elp you?" she asked, looking up from her creations. Harry noticed she had a streak of what looked like powdered sugar across her forehead.

"Um, yes, I... I'm invited to someone's house for dinner and I need to bring a little gift, and..."

She stopped him with a hand in the air. "One moment. I 'ave the perfect thing."

She gave a tiny flick of her wand toward him, then waved it over the countertop where she had small piles of shaved chocolate, cocoa powder, ground nuts, sugar, and other things lined up before her. With a huge flourish that threatened to knock her white hat from her head, she waved her wand and then flicked it once more toward the counter.

There sat six perfectly formed chocolate treats, three in the shape of mice, three in the shape of cats. One of the cats began to groom its face with a tiny paw. Harry stared, his mouth open.

"You like zem?"

He nodded and from under the counter the witch produced a satin-lined box divided it into two halves. She herded the mice into one half, the cats into the other, tucked the box closed, and then with a final flourish of her wand tied it with a deep blue velvet ribbon.

After a delicious meal made up of dishes Harry mostly recognized, they sat in a parlor room sipping fine whiskey and chatting about Quidditch. Draco had been so smooth, so warm, Harry had forgotten entirely about the package he had handed over first thing in the evening.

Draco hadn't forgotten it, apparently, though, as he Summoned it and placed it on the small table between them with a curious smile.

"I... Someone told me it's customary to bring a gift," Harry stammered.

Draco pulled the ribbon and the box opened. One of the mice scampered out, one of the cats chased after it, catching it and devouring it on the spot. Harry watched Draco's eyes sparkle with delight.

Draco picked up the tiny cat in his hand--the cat had doubled in size--and watched it groom itself contentedly. He opened his mouth and the cat marched haughtily in. Draco closed his mouth with a stifled laugh. He bit down, then closed his eyes in bliss, humming happily.

A bit of sweet filling oozed from the corner of his mouth and Harry found he could not take his eyes off it. And before Harry was quite sure what he was doing, he had his hands on the armrests of Draco's chair, and was tonguing the cream from crook of Draco's lips.

Harry felt Draco's hands slide around his back, and took it as a sign that Draco wanted him to deepen the kiss. He hadn't expected Draco Malfoy's mouth to be so soft under his. The Malfoy sneer should have hardened it, but Draco was pliant, yielding, and warm.

When Harry pulled away, Draco gripped him by the collar of his shirt. "I like your gift." He picked at the top button and then said, his lips against Harry's throat, "I'd like to see more of it."

Now the cat and mouse symbolism made sense.

-end-

[If you enjoyed this fic, there are many more of my H/D and other Harry Potter fics at my Livejournal: http://ravenna-c-tan.livejournal.com. Warning, though, most are NC-17 or R.]