Three Reasons [5] (Harry/Draco, NC-17)
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hp_may_madnessTitle: Three Reasons [5]
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1100
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Prompt: "Listen, that was the past. I've changed and I'll prove it to you!"
Author's Notes: This prompt fit right in with where my story was going; I love when that happens. & I started writing this back when I wrote the first four parts, so I used May 5th's prompt.
Previous Parts: [1][2][3][4]
Owning a shop meant that Malfoy worked long hours. Being an Auror meant the same thing for Harry. That was how it had been so easy for Harry to dismiss Malfoy’s presence in his flat. They were both barely there. Perhaps Malfoy had been there on his days off, but they were Mondays and Tuesdays. Harry had the weekends off and spent them with his friends.
Harry left work on time, for once, to have a chance to bathe and change before he made his next attempt with Malfoy.
To add insult to injury, it hadn’t been the next day—or the next few days—that Harry realised his mistake. It took a couple weeks before Harry figured out Malfoy had left him at all. And it hadn’t become real to him until Harry ran into him while out with Hermione. Malfoy pretended he didn’t see Harry, even when Harry called his name. A moment later he was gone.
Hermione studied him as she asked, ‘Haven’t you spoken at all since . . .’
‘No,’ Harry said. ‘I just asked for a few days, and nothing since then. I owled him, but my letter was returned from the manor unopened.’
‘The manor? Why would you owl him there? Don’t you have his address? I can’t imagine why you thought they’d send it along, or if they would even know where he was living.’
‘They’re his parents.’ Harry was confused. They never talked about it, but Malfoy had always been close with his parents.
‘Oh, Harry.’ Hermione shook her head at him, and he knew he was in for a lecture.
After taking his hand, Apparating him to his flat, and making him a cup of tea, she sat next to him at the table and began to explain. Harry hadn’t read the newspaper since the war, and because no one had any reason to believe that Harry cared, they didn’t inform him about anything they’d read.
Especially, about Malfoy.
Ron had been convinced that Harry’d run into Malfoy eventually and have a one off with him. But even he hadn’t suspected that Harry had started with Malfoy at Hogwarts and carried it on for the last five years. When he and Hermione had walked in on them, he believed they’d interrupted the same instance Harry and he’d seen at the theatre. Hermione hadn’t said anything about what she believed.
‘We only have speculation on why,’ Hermione said, ‘but Malfoy has been estranged from his parents since we left Hogwarts. He never went back home, and his parents publicly stated they’d gone their separate ways—as though you could divorce your child. He had to borrow money for the shoppe, so it’s likely they cut him off as well.’
Hermione was shocked that Malfoy hadn’t told Harry about it all himself, but Harry had explained they really hadn’t had that type of relationship. They hadn’t talked much about difficult subjects. A little about work. More about food.
Harry arrived at Malfoy’s shoppe just before closing. He must live above the shop, so Harry didn’t want to risk waiting for him to leave after locking up.
Malfoy’s face was blank but his arms were across his chest as he stared at Harry walking towards him.
‘Can I give you the first reason over dinner?’ Harry forced a smile.
‘Dinner sounds like me already giving you another chance,’ Malfoy pointed out. ‘You always do this. As a Slytherin, I respect the cunningness around your misdirection, but I’m not falling for it. How about you give me the reason first, and I’ll think about dinner’
‘Listen.’ Harry almost bit his tongue to keep himself from saying his surname. ‘I know that I messed up, that I didn’t appreciate you, but that was the past. I’ll change. I've changed, and I'll prove it to you!’
He narrowed his eyes at Harry. ‘You’ve changed? I believe what you said first more: that you’re willing to change. But—’ Malfoy smirked. ‘What exactly are you changing?’
‘I don’t understand. I just said—’
‘I need you to be more specific. You said you hadn’t appreciated me. That sounds rather generic. In fact, everything you’ve said has so far. For me to forgive you, I need to know what I’m forgiving you for. I need to know that you know what it is that you “messed up”.’
Harry swallowed as tried to think of the right thing to say. The biggest thing—the thing he wanted to apologise for—he hoped Malfoy would never find out about. Because if he did, then Harry would never get him back in his bed again. It was the thing that made Harry say of course when Hermione said Draco didn’t see your relationship the same way you did. Harry knew that, had always known that. If Malfoy knew that what got Harry off wasn’t a mutual attraction between or even an attraction to Malfoy himself, he’d never have agreed to the things they did together.
What Harry loved was Malfoy’s attraction to him. Even if it was, like most everyone else, an attraction to who he was more than himself.
‘I really don’t think you do,’ Hermione had said. After a pause, she asked, ‘Have you noticed you’re missing some furniture?’
Looking around, Harry saw his apartment did seem a bit more sparse, but he couldn’t put his finger on what was missing. Then he noticed one of the walls had obvious open spaces where pictures used to hang. Scanning the ones that remained, Harry couldn’t pinpoint which ones were missing. All of the pictures that meant anything to him were accounted for. There had used to be a chair in the other corner. A vase on the table. He used to have two nightstands instead of one.
‘Harry, I think that you meant a bit more than a casual fling to him, whether you realised it or not.’
And the best way Harry could think to describe that had been not appreciative, but it wasn’t enough. Harry was losing him. And though Harry still wasn’t quite sure all that he was losing, he did know that he didn’t want to.
‘Draco,’ Harry forced himself to say, and he knew it was the right start no matter what came next because he looked at Harry. Not smirked or glared or sneered. ‘Draco, I want a real relationship with you. I don’t want us to hide anymore.’
‘You see, the problem with that, Harry, is that I was never hiding you.’
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1100
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Prompt: "Listen, that was the past. I've changed and I'll prove it to you!"
Author's Notes: This prompt fit right in with where my story was going; I love when that happens. & I started writing this back when I wrote the first four parts, so I used May 5th's prompt.
Previous Parts: [1][2][3][4]
Owning a shop meant that Malfoy worked long hours. Being an Auror meant the same thing for Harry. That was how it had been so easy for Harry to dismiss Malfoy’s presence in his flat. They were both barely there. Perhaps Malfoy had been there on his days off, but they were Mondays and Tuesdays. Harry had the weekends off and spent them with his friends.
Harry left work on time, for once, to have a chance to bathe and change before he made his next attempt with Malfoy.
To add insult to injury, it hadn’t been the next day—or the next few days—that Harry realised his mistake. It took a couple weeks before Harry figured out Malfoy had left him at all. And it hadn’t become real to him until Harry ran into him while out with Hermione. Malfoy pretended he didn’t see Harry, even when Harry called his name. A moment later he was gone.
Hermione studied him as she asked, ‘Haven’t you spoken at all since . . .’
‘No,’ Harry said. ‘I just asked for a few days, and nothing since then. I owled him, but my letter was returned from the manor unopened.’
‘The manor? Why would you owl him there? Don’t you have his address? I can’t imagine why you thought they’d send it along, or if they would even know where he was living.’
‘They’re his parents.’ Harry was confused. They never talked about it, but Malfoy had always been close with his parents.
‘Oh, Harry.’ Hermione shook her head at him, and he knew he was in for a lecture.
After taking his hand, Apparating him to his flat, and making him a cup of tea, she sat next to him at the table and began to explain. Harry hadn’t read the newspaper since the war, and because no one had any reason to believe that Harry cared, they didn’t inform him about anything they’d read.
Especially, about Malfoy.
Ron had been convinced that Harry’d run into Malfoy eventually and have a one off with him. But even he hadn’t suspected that Harry had started with Malfoy at Hogwarts and carried it on for the last five years. When he and Hermione had walked in on them, he believed they’d interrupted the same instance Harry and he’d seen at the theatre. Hermione hadn’t said anything about what she believed.
‘We only have speculation on why,’ Hermione said, ‘but Malfoy has been estranged from his parents since we left Hogwarts. He never went back home, and his parents publicly stated they’d gone their separate ways—as though you could divorce your child. He had to borrow money for the shoppe, so it’s likely they cut him off as well.’
Hermione was shocked that Malfoy hadn’t told Harry about it all himself, but Harry had explained they really hadn’t had that type of relationship. They hadn’t talked much about difficult subjects. A little about work. More about food.
Harry arrived at Malfoy’s shoppe just before closing. He must live above the shop, so Harry didn’t want to risk waiting for him to leave after locking up.
Malfoy’s face was blank but his arms were across his chest as he stared at Harry walking towards him.
‘Can I give you the first reason over dinner?’ Harry forced a smile.
‘Dinner sounds like me already giving you another chance,’ Malfoy pointed out. ‘You always do this. As a Slytherin, I respect the cunningness around your misdirection, but I’m not falling for it. How about you give me the reason first, and I’ll think about dinner’
‘Listen.’ Harry almost bit his tongue to keep himself from saying his surname. ‘I know that I messed up, that I didn’t appreciate you, but that was the past. I’ll change. I've changed, and I'll prove it to you!’
He narrowed his eyes at Harry. ‘You’ve changed? I believe what you said first more: that you’re willing to change. But—’ Malfoy smirked. ‘What exactly are you changing?’
‘I don’t understand. I just said—’
‘I need you to be more specific. You said you hadn’t appreciated me. That sounds rather generic. In fact, everything you’ve said has so far. For me to forgive you, I need to know what I’m forgiving you for. I need to know that you know what it is that you “messed up”.’
Harry swallowed as tried to think of the right thing to say. The biggest thing—the thing he wanted to apologise for—he hoped Malfoy would never find out about. Because if he did, then Harry would never get him back in his bed again. It was the thing that made Harry say of course when Hermione said Draco didn’t see your relationship the same way you did. Harry knew that, had always known that. If Malfoy knew that what got Harry off wasn’t a mutual attraction between or even an attraction to Malfoy himself, he’d never have agreed to the things they did together.
What Harry loved was Malfoy’s attraction to him. Even if it was, like most everyone else, an attraction to who he was more than himself.
‘I really don’t think you do,’ Hermione had said. After a pause, she asked, ‘Have you noticed you’re missing some furniture?’
Looking around, Harry saw his apartment did seem a bit more sparse, but he couldn’t put his finger on what was missing. Then he noticed one of the walls had obvious open spaces where pictures used to hang. Scanning the ones that remained, Harry couldn’t pinpoint which ones were missing. All of the pictures that meant anything to him were accounted for. There had used to be a chair in the other corner. A vase on the table. He used to have two nightstands instead of one.
‘Harry, I think that you meant a bit more than a casual fling to him, whether you realised it or not.’
And the best way Harry could think to describe that had been not appreciative, but it wasn’t enough. Harry was losing him. And though Harry still wasn’t quite sure all that he was losing, he did know that he didn’t want to.
‘Draco,’ Harry forced himself to say, and he knew it was the right start no matter what came next because he looked at Harry. Not smirked or glared or sneered. ‘Draco, I want a real relationship with you. I don’t want us to hide anymore.’
‘You see, the problem with that, Harry, is that I was never hiding you.’
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