The Heat That Warmed A Frozen Heart

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

A/N: The Heat Series and all episodes thereof have an average rating of NC-17. Some stories in this series may be rated R, primarily for language and implied content rather than graphic content, but the series as a whole is rated NC-17. Thank you.

The Heat That Warmed A Frozen heart...by Samayel


Harry’s final year at Hogwarts hurried along, not because it was uncomplicated or pleasant, but because his mind was constantly occupied with thoughts of Draco. As their NEWT exams drew ever closer, Harry realized how much time had passed since his last words with Draco.

Soon, he would leave the relative safety of Hogwarts, and spend his time with the Order at Grimmaud Place plotting the next steps in the war against Voldemort. There, he might be able to escape the occasional sight of Draco, but he could never escape the memories.

It hadn’t been easy, these past months, ignoring what had existed between them, and it had taken its toll on Harry. Especially since small reminders cropped up now and again.

As near as Harry could work out, Snape had been working privately with Draco, and had arranged visits by a special ’tutor’, ostensibly for higher level training than most students could handle, but Harry knew otherwise. No one else seemed likely to guess it, but Harry would have bet his life that Draco’s tutor had come from St. Mungo’s.

There had been a tiny blurb in the Prophet a few weeks after his conversation with Snape, and it caught Harry’s eye immediately. Apparently, Marcus Flint had been picked up Aurors, and promptly sentenced to Azkaban. The charges were left unspecified, with the vague title of ‘crimes against the wizarding world’. Nonetheless, Harry had discreetly held that issue of the Prophet up as Snape walked by, and gave the professor a grim nod of approval. Snape said nothing, but gave a barely perceptible nod in return, and continued on his way.

A month later, a small obituary was posted in the Prophet for Marcus Flint, who had died in a most gruesome manner while in Azkaban. Though no explanation was ever found, the only clue was an empty vial that had once held a particularly virulent poison. Another grim nod was exchanged between Harry and Snape, and the matter was never referred to again.

Draco had returned to classes just a few days after his final meeting with Harry. He had been paler than his norm, skinnier than was healthy, and he was often shaky and confused. Periodically, he would excuse himself without explanation, and reappear when he was feeling better, but as the weeks passed, his health, color, and normal moods returned.

He still wouldn’t speak to, or contact, Harry. At first he had looked at Harry from across halls or classrooms, gray eyes ablaze with outrage and contempt. That had been the hardest time for Harry. He had wanted so desperately to throw himself at Draco’s feet and beg forgiveness, if it would just mean being able to speak civilly to one another again.

It hurt terribly, being left entirely out of the loop during Draco’s recovery, but Harry bore up as stoically as he could. No one but Ron and Hermione even knew about his difficulty sleeping, and even they didn’t know why he always woke with reddened eyes. Draco eventually stopped glaring at him hatefully, and seemed little more than irritated when forced by circumstance to be near Harry, and that was about as good as it got for a couple months.

Toward the last month, Draco had ceased even that, and simply ignored Harry as best he could, and somehow that stung in a way that his silent scorn hadn’t. At least when Harry had been a source of emotion, he’d felt like he had some kind of impact on the blond boy, but now he was beneath notice, and it left him empty and cold inside.

A few weeks left at Hogwarts, and all this would be left behind. Harry had given up using the baths. Too many unpleasant memories associated with them now, not to mention the horrifying possibility of awkward contact with Draco, who still occasionally went there alone.

The Marauder’s Map still gave Harry a window of insight, and he knew that Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Nott all took turns keeping near Draco at different times. If someone were to plan a second attack on Draco, it would have to be far more cautious than the last. Thankfully, no attack had come, and with the school year nearing its end, Harry was certain that Voldemort was planning to start the war in earnest, as soon as Harry was an adult and lost the blood protection that once guarded him. At least he could be some help to Draco, even if it was only by being a high priority target that drew fire away from others.

Seeing Draco’s dot alone in the baths was the hardest thing of all, and it was the nights that he saw this on the map that left Harry crying into his pillow in a Silenced bed. Draco had not dated anyone, and the rumor mill had treated that knowledge callously, throwing around words like impotence on a regular basis. Harry knew better, but there was nothing he could say to stem the tide of rumors. Draco’s problems were his own, and Harry had no intention of barging in again and complicating things further.

Wanking had lost its charm, now that it was leaving Harry miserable and ashamed of thinking about anyone other than Draco, and thinking of Draco simply ruined the exercise completely. Harry’s sex drive, once rampant with desire for a lover’s touch, had simply shriveled and disappeared, save for occasional brief, uncomfortable reminders at odd times, and even those were dealt with distastefully.

Harry sat down for breakfast one morning, with no enthusiasm at all, since the last time he’d enjoyed breakfast had ended in tragedy. Now his meals seemed bland, and only the need to fuel his body kept him going to the table each morning. Owls delivered their parcels to the student body as usual, and this morning, Harry received a letter, which was passing strange, since, with the death of Sirius, and Remus’ duties for the Order, no one had written Harry in months.

It was a nondescript little thing, but the wax seal was elegant and tasteful, and the penmanship on his name was skillful. Upon opening it, Harry felt his heart leap. The brief message within could only have come from one person, and it was worded with great politeness…a compliment in itself when he thought about it.

‘To Harry Potter,

The pleasure of your company is requested, in the Owlery, at seven pm sharp. There are matters which should be discussed, and your presence would be most welcome.

D.’

There was an oblique reference to his request months ago that Draco address his usual peremptory commands as polite requests. This note felt like Draco had taken that to heart. Harry grabbed his silverware and started eating, only to realize, two plates later, that the food tasted uncommonly good today.

Harry was at the Owlery that night, at five minutes to seven. It meant skipping a study session with Ron and Hermione, but his attention span had been spoiled completely, and there was no hope of learning anything until he had this meeting out of the way.

At the far end of the gallery, a single slim form stood in shadows, staring vaguely out of a window. Harry crossed the gallery noisily, letting his footfalls announce his presence. The shadow turned, and Draco’s face came into view, his inscrutable mask in place as it always was these days.

“Harry.” Draco inclined his head in greeting.

“Draco. I was glad to get your invitation.” Harry smiled, and suddenly wanted to kick himself for acting so puppyish. If he’d had a fucking tail it would have been wagging like crazy. How pathetic. Nonetheless, he was here, and so was Draco, and there was no scowl involved…so it had to be good, didn’t it?

Draco turned back to the window, looking out at the dimming sky. He took a deep breath, and started to speak at last...hesitance and tension in every word.

“Harry. I’m glad you came, too. I’ve…I’m a lot better these days, and there are some things we need to talk about. I know I haven’t the right, but I’d like to ask for some conditions while I talk. Would you at least listen to them, then tell me if you’re willing to accept them?”

Harry could see the muscle along Draco’s neck sharply defined, rigid and stark in the shadows. Whatever Draco was asking for, this conversation wasn’t easy for him, so Harry relented, at least tentatively.

“Yeah…anything you want. I’m just happy to see you again. You look great, and if you want something…ask…it’s yours if I can do it.”

“That’s…that’s generous of you, Harry. I…my therapist says…I have issues with control…and intimacy, and a few other things, but that isn’t here or there. I’m asking if you’d be willing to excuse my not being able to look at you while I talk. It’s easier for me that way. I can say things without losing control that way, but if I look at you, I’ll lose it and I won’t get things out that need saying. Would you be okay with that?”

Harry reeled under the knowledge that Draco had admitted seeing a therapist. Admitting a need for help was not generally built into the Malfoy character, and doing so was a step in the right direction as far as Harry was concerned.

“Tell you what. I’ll sit right here by the pillar. You can talk about anything you want, and I’ll just listen…unless you ask a question or something. Okay?”

He tried to keep the puppy dog eagerness from his voice, but he could see the ghost of Draco’s smirk in the half light from the window. Harry made himself comfortable, or at least as comfortable as he could be on the cool, hard stones of the castle floor.

“Thank you. I’ve got a lot to cover, so this might take awhile. Forgive me if I ramble, but it’s easier to drift than it is to focus. Just trust that I’ll get to my point eventually.

I was very cross with you…for months. You deserve to know why. Harry…I didn’t want to talk about certain parts of my life. I felt that they were mine and mine only, and that I had the right to keep them to myself. I still have that right…but I know that, sometimes, I’ve hurt people by letting my past dictate my present. You’re one of them. I see a lot of things…clearer than I used to. Other things have been explained for me, and they make sense in a way they never did. You were right to make me get help.

I hated you for it. I hated that I was going to have my innermost thoughts picked apart by someone, and I hated that I had no choice, because I had a debt to pay, and you set the terms. I don’t want people’s fucking sympathy, and I don’t want their pity, either. Not even yours, Harry. Even if I do something wrong, my choices are mine, and I hate being second guessed because of some asshole from my past.

Now I know that you did right by me, in a way that a lot of other people never would have. I appreciate it enormously. There are no fucking words for it, Harry. You saved my life, literally, and then, when most would have named a price that guaranteed their own wishes, you saved me from myself. Where…”

Draco broke down for a moment, voice constricted while his breath came short, and Harry fought the urge to go to him. Draco straightened and took a deep breath.

“Wait…I…I’m okay. Where the hell do you come from, Harry? How does anyone do anything that good? I’d call it Gryffindor, but even they’re not like you. I…I don’t think I believe in love. The word usually makes me sick. People throw it around all the time, but they don’t mean it. Just fawning prattle from idiots that think raging hormones are the same thing as a destiny written in the stars. That you could do something…like that…for me. It makes me think things like…maybe, maybe I’ve been wrong. I wasn’t lying when I said there’s no one like you, Harry.”

Harry sat in silence, just watching the tension in Draco’s back while the words poured out. His throat felt thick, and his eyes were burning, and it took twisting his face into a smile to keep himself from crying. Draco had come a long way, if he could even say things like this.

“I think you deserve to hear the rest, Harry. You guessed some of it, but there are things I don’t think you could understand. Fuck all, I didn’t understand them until recently. It took weeks just to get it all out and look at it from a distance, and my therapist told me a lot of things about the way I treated you, and how it related to Flint.

The year I joined the Quidditch team. Flint was the star of Slytherin House, and he was already well established as the most popular and influential person in our house. I admit that I wanted his attention. I was only just beginning to figure out that I liked boys as much as girls, and at that moment, he was my idol. He didn’t do anything except let me tag along to parties with older students, and he flattered me without even trying. I was so fucking pathetically happy to be near him, to be included with the older crowd, that it never occurred to me that something was wrong about someone who was seventeen spending that much time with a kid five years younger.

You got one major part wrong about Flint. There’s a reason Snape never caught him. He never attacked anybody. He made you want it. He knew he was Slytherin’s hero, and he used that to get whatever he wanted, and he knew how to make you think that you were the one getting what you wanted. I wanted him long before he even touched me.

I was such an ignorant little shit. I’d just figured out how to get off, and as soon as it became a regular thing, I was thinking of him. I talked a good game, but I had no idea what I was doing. By the end of that year, I’d been bragging to him about it…kind of half hoping he’d let things slip and fill in the blanks in my knowledge. It wound up being a lot more than that, but not as much as you might think. I left for the summer, wanked myself raw thinking about him for a couple months, and came back so desperate to see him that I wouldn’t have cared if he did attack me.

Third year was when everything really happened. It was his last year at Hogwarts, and I think he pulled out all the stops. He’d done everything, with everyone he’d wanted, for a long time before I became an issue, so I guess he was looking for a new thrill. I was it.

I suppose he made me a personal project. He spent a lot of time letting me get closer and closer, fooling around, with just a few rules, before he went further. By the time he wanted more from me, I was almost frantic to give it. I…I thought I was in love. I flattered myself to think that he had an interest in me beyond getting off as much as possible, and I was just too young and too stupid to know the difference.

Harry…the way I treated you…it wasn’t that different from the way he treated me. He was…a little colder…a little rougher, but he kept me believing that there was something more, something better, just beneath the surface. I gave him everything he wanted…and I mean everything. I liked it then, giving in to him, doing whatever he wanted. It felt wicked, wrong in all the good ways, and he always made sure I enjoyed it. Even when it hurt, it was like it was something I craved, and that made it alright.

I was a perfect whore for him. I had no inhibitions left, no taboos, and no shame. Then I started trying tell him about how much I loved him, even though the subject was supposed to be off limits. He slapped me so hard it felt like my head exploded, and just shoved me out of his bed and told me to go find the Hufflepuff dorm. He didn’t talk to me for days after that. I cried until I couldn’t see straight, then went back and groveled at his feet, promising that I’d do anything he wanted if he’d just pretend I’d never said those things.

He let it pass, but he was a lot rougher than before. I think that was his way of amusing himself with someone who bored him. He just tested the boundaries of what I could, or would, take from him. It stopped being anything even remotely like fun, but I kept going back because it was him.

Naturally, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut forever. We got close to the end of the year, and I knew he’d be leaving. I got panicky, desperate, and I started hinting at seeing him outside of school or on holidays. The kind of things a boyfriend would want. He hit me again, and then a few more times because I was crying, and then he left. He wouldn’t have anything to do with me for the rest of the year.

That’s when he started with a few of the others. The irony was that, as fucking horrible to me as he was, half of Slytherin was jealous of the amount of time he’d spent with me, even if they didn’t know the details. They practically lined up to be used by him, but he never went so far with any of them. I half think he played around with the others just to make sure that I’d see him with other people, and suffer appropriately. We’d never even kissed. I watched him snog other people in public for the last few weeks of school, and I really think he just did it to rub salt in my wounds.

The year ended, I went home, sulked in my room all summer, and came back to school. I spent the whole year getting over it, and even took up snogging a few people just to get comfortable with it. At that point, it was bloody nearly the only thing I hadn’t done! Doesn’t the irony just kill you? I got my first proper snog almost a year after I’d thoroughly whored myself out to my team Captain. I was just dead inside. It felt like I was going through the motions, but it didn’t count for anything. I never bothered with it after that.

Fourth year was pretty much a wash. Tri-Wizard Tournament came to town, and I spent most of my time thinking up new ways to drive you and Weasley crazy. It was easier than thinking about the previous year, and you have to admit, Weasley’s great fun to take shots at. The big prat takes everything right to heart. He should really just paint a target on himself!”

Draco’s voice had gotten hoarse, and he paused with a cough, then drew a familiar vial from his coat. A swallow of Soothing Potion, and he was staring at the darkening sky and talking again.

“Sorry. Just tense. I’m still on the potion, but only before sleep or when I’m talking about certain things. The rest of the time I do pretty well.

I’d almost gotten over it by the end of the year. It’s funny how the daily grind of life just wears away at you until things that hurt seem less painful. I’d missed him, some ways, especially at night. I wanted to be touched, I wanted to give myself to someone again, but I hadn’t pieced together who just yet. I left for summer, and a few weeks later, my father took me to a Dark revel. It changed everything.

The Dark Lord spoke, and I fell beside my father, on my knees, groveling like a slave. Parseltongue made us utterly compliant, but in the back of my mind, some rational part was left, just trapped and watching from a distance, horrified by what it saw…what I saw.

When it was over, and my father took me home, I made up my mind to never be like that again. I swore I’d never submit to anyone, never let anyone control me, never let emotions or sentiment suck me into a situation where I could be manipulated. I went back to school, and I learned to make others do what I wanted, not by force, but by guile. They did what I wanted, because they wanted to, because they wanted me, but they never even got close.

Then came you. I saw your image reflected in the mirror on the far wall of the baths. I saw the look on your face while you stared at me. I liked it. I could tell I had power over you, and I knew I could have even more. The irony was delicious, too. Gryffindor’s gorgeous Golden Boy, panting after my cock…who could resist that?

You were so beautiful, so naïve, and so eager to please. You were like me…then…with him. I knew just what to say, and just what to do. You were so responsive, too. It was like you knew what I’d enjoy most, sometimes even before I asked for it. I didn’t like the way I thought about you, and I made sure you didn’t see or hear any thing that would show how I felt. I didn’t let you know about the dreams I had, or about the things I felt ashamed of for even wanting.

I tried. I tried so hard to be like him, to not get close, to not let you matter. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even hurt you like he would have. I wanted to please you, make you come back again, make you want me enough to never stop coming back. I wanted to keep it simple, but I couldn’t even get that right. I couldn’t push you away, so I stiffened up and talked down to you. It was all a fucking bluff. I couldn’t have stopped coming to see you, even if I’d tried. I guess, when it came right down to it, you were stronger than I ever was.

I hated that more than anything else. The way you got under my skin. The way I wanted you when you weren’t there. Most of all…I hated that I wanted you the way I only ever wanted Flint before. I can’t think of anything in the last few years that made me want to…to…surrender myself that way. If I’d been stronger, I’d never have spoken to you after you broke it off between us. He would never have been pulled back in that way, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

Draco turned from the window, and seated himself on the stone floor across from Harry, keeping himself looking away from Harry’s eyes.

“When you stopped the snake, I lost it completely, I’d missed you, and I wanted you back, but I’d been too proud to go crawling to you. I fell apart when I heard Parseltongue again…this time from you. I lost the will to resist anything, even the ability to speak coherently. It felt like I was on fire, and only you could make it stop. The part of my mind that was still my own was screaming the entire time. Everything I’d pushed aside came back to me, like it had happened just days ago instead of years. Then you…you…I guess you lost control for a minute. Too much power can do that…my family ought to know.

The part I couldn’t tell you, the part I didn’t want to think about, was how badly I wanted you to just take me, use me as you pleased, even if you threw me away when you were done. As soon as it wore off, I wanted to crawl away and die. Those were things that I wasn’t supposed to feel anymore, and being helpless isn’t something I handle gracefully, but you probably already knew that part.

It comes down to this. We leave here in a few weeks. I’m not really well yet, not in the ways that really count, but I don’t…I don’t want to leave here, and not see you again. I could do better, if you let me, but there are a lot of things I can’t handle. I know what you deserve, and the truth is that I can’t give all of it to you. I just can’t. Even when I wasn’t sure how I felt, I never wanted to hurt you, and it still happened. I won’t make a promise I can’t keep, but…I’m trying as hard as I can…and if I could meet you halfway, I’d ask you to start all over with me, and not like before. Not secret, not sex, just, you know, seeing each other like normal people do. Even if all I can do is promise to try, would you come to see me, or let me see you, after we leave here?”

He finally looked Harry in the eyes, scudding clouds of ice boring into bright pools of emerald green, searching for some sign of approval, something to offer the hope of a better tomorrow.

Draco found just that. Harry smiled, eyes burning, trying very hard to keep his calm and spare Draco’s already jangled nerves. He nodded his approval, rewarded with the huff of relief that slid from Draco when he listened to Harry’s answer.

“Yeah, I’d like that very much. I’ve missed you, too, you know? I didn’t think you’d ever speak to me again, but at least you looked like you were getting better. We can go as slow as you want. I’d be happier talking to you like this than anything else could ever make me.”

Draco relaxed completely, almost visibly giddy with the loss of the tension that had been eating at him.

“I’d like to ask for something else. My therapist has been insisting on giving me ‘homework’. Things I’m supposed to work on whenever I can. I’d like it if…like it very much if you’d sit here with me. I want to hold you…right now, just for awhile. Never really done much of that before, except…after…you know. I’d like to start getting comfortable with that first, and there isn’t anyone else I want to hold.”

Harry scooted across the short distance, and turned himself around so that he could lie comfortably in Draco’s arms. It was strange, being embraced with his clothes on for once, but oddly more fulfilling than he’d imagined. Draco was a bit stiff, and he felt like he was trembling at first, but after a few minutes of close warmth, he settled comfortably behind Harry and laid his chin on Harry’s shoulder, sighing contentedly.

“Thank you. This is good. I like this.” Draco’s breath puffed softly onto Harry’s neck, and Harry made himself perfectly at ease before he spoke.

“I’ll be busy right after I leave here, and if the war breaks out, I may not be able to see you when I want. There are ways for you to visit me, but there’s a price that isn’t really up to me. You’d have to declare allegiance to our side. There would be binding oaths. It’s the only way you could safely come and go from where I’ll be. I’d never ask it of you if I had a choice, but I want you to come and see me. I can’t even say how much. Please think about it?”

Draco didn’t remain silent for long. “I’ll do whatever I have to. If that’s what it takes, so be it. I’m not throwing myself if front of any approaching armies like a Gryffindor, but if it’s the only way to see you, I’ll swear oaths ‘til I’m blue in the face,”

In an unconscious gesture, Harry reached for the hand that was just beneath his arm, snug around his middle, and clasped his fingers through Draco’s. Draco felt stiff for a moment, and Harry cursed himself for forgetting how different from other people Draco was, but the hand clasped in his own didn’t pull away.

The sun died its daily, glorious death, and the shadows played across the far wall of the Owlery until, some time later, darkness overwhelmed, and two boys lounged in silent comfort, the only sounds in the room the soft clicks of claws and beaks and the flutter of wings.


TBC!!! (The next episode will be the final one!)