A Fever You Can't Sweat Out | By : Dadella Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6402 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. Nor any of the lyrics/music used here. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
**I'm exactly where you like me, you know
praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety** +
**
The witch on the stage gyrated her hips obscenely and unhooked her tiny top with a single hand. Harry thought this vaguely impressive, but his mates put up such a fuss you’d think she’d discovered another method to create a philosopher’s stone.
“Idn’t it bloody brilliant, mate?” Ron Weasely was fairly smashed.
Harry nursed his own drink, and smiled at his best (male) friend. Any attempt at communicating in the deafening club was fruitless unless there was shouting involved, and Harry didn’t feel quite up to bellowing, so he just turned back to the stage.
The girl was pretty enough, he supposed, but he definitely wasn’t feeling too much in the way he was meant to. She shimmied some more and sent a flirty wink his way. He could feel his ears burning and ducked back to his glass for another long pull of the warm liquid. Again, his mates thought this the best thing since sliced bread and beat him on the shoulder hollering their jealousy and approval.
**
This time Draco was ready. And luckily enough for him, his father was at the distinct disadvantage of having just had his first worthwhile orgasm in at least a few number of years, so his limbs still felt heavy and sated. When he opened the door to his office, presumably to make his way to the kitchens or some other part of his stately home, Draco threw his best Petrifico at him and positively did NOT smile in glee when he heard the sickening thwack of the older man’s head hitting the floor.
He wasn’t there to kill anybody, though, and dragged the rigid body back into the office that still smelt faintly of sex and fear and sat down in his father’s chair.
“Father, I believe you owe me an explanation.”
“I owe you an Avada, you disgusting excuse for a pureblood wizard!” –Lucius positively boiled over with angry spittle.
Draco quirked a single eyebrow and smiled a patent Malfoy Smirk at his father, “But I’m not getting one, am I? Pity…” he clucked his tongue in mock regret and stood to lean over the cleared desktop. “You and I know both this is going to go in my favour, daddy. First you’re going to tell me everything so I don’t run blindly into this and make things worse.”
“I’m not telling you anything! As soon as this bloody jinx wears off I’m going to tear your head of your neck myself, and don’t think I won’t set a permanent Crucio as background music!”
Draco was entirely unfazed. He knew his father for what he was, he was only recently coming to feel uneasy with it. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to go and talk to Ginny. I certainly hope nothing goes WRONG during our conversation.”
Lucius immediately shut up, and Draco could see something strange in his father’s eyes. Not even his mother had garnered such panic and concern.
“You don’t… love her, do you? What exactly is going on here, father?”
“Don’t be stupid, boy. She’s a ginger halfwit blood traitor, and you should know better.”
“Then what is she to you?”
Lucius glared almost sullenly back at his son. Draco could see that he wasn’t going to get anywhere playing nice, so he did what he was trained to do- get his way. Pulling his wand to eye level, he trained it on the still form lying on the carpet. “Well father, you leave me no choice… Crucio.”
**
Harry’d made it through a couple of drinks, but all of his friends were positively gone. They’d gotten at least three for each of his own, and as a result there was absolutely no convincing them of anything, other than that tonight was the best plan they’d ever had and why don’t they do this every night? On the bright side, it covered up the fact Harry clearly wasn’t enjoying himself QUITE as much as the others and this meant that no explanations needed giving. He was on his way to the bar for another, because why not, when he spotted a distantly familiar shock of white blond hair near the door of the establishment. Ron was behind him, following to help with the new influx of booze, but didn’t notice the visitor until he’d nearly shoved him out of the way to get into Harry’s face.
“Harry-“
“Watch it, will you ferret?” Despite using the old nickname, Ron didn’t seem to actually recognize Draco standing before him for at least a few seconds.
“I’m sorry, Weasely, but I need to speak with-“
“Fuck ‘r you doin’ here, Malfoy? An’ waddya wan’ wi’ ‘Arry?”
Harry’s gaze shifted to look at his dangerously inebriated friend. In truth, he should have been worried, because nearly the entire wizarding world knew that Ron Weasely had a tenuous grasp on his temper at even the best of times. This was quite distinctly not one of them. Draco pointedly ignored him and put his hand on Harry’s sleeve.
“Harry, I’m serious, there’s something we need to discuss. And the sooner the better.”
“I’ll ask ya to kindly fuck off, Malfoy! Get yur ruddy ‘ands off my mate!” The sudden anger at least improved Ron’s speech, if not actually helping to sober him, and he pushed forward, knocking Draco slightly off balance and wedging his way between friend and foe.
“Weasely, I’ve asked nicely. I’m afraid I must insist you leave off and give us some privacy.” Draco was being courteous out of loyalty and devotion to his beloved Harry Potter, who had simply stood there staring at him like he didn’t know him and it broke his heart and made him want to snap. Taking his anger and frustration out on the red head would make him feel much better for a couple of reasons, but beyond the fact that Harry would hopefully remember his actions one day, he simply had too much respect for his lover to do that to him, whether he knew or not. Draco was a good boyfriend.
“’Arry le’s move on, this prat don’ deserve our ‘tention…” Ron gripped Harry’s elbow and steered him on towards the bar, but Harry remained rooted by some unseen force. He simply stared at the blonde as if he were dreaming, or seeing a ghost.
“Weasely, I’m begging you. Please!”
Ron snorted, “Huh, tha’s the day… The only reason I’m no’ hexin’ yur arse six ways from Sunday is that this is a party, Malfoy. Harry’s getting’ married, an’ we’re gonna celebra’ proper. Now if ya know wha’s good for ya, you’ll get the fuck outta here.”
Draco stared after Harry as Ron dragged him away bodily. Harry hadn’t said a single word through their interaction, he looked almost Petrified. There had to be some way of getting through to him. He had to break this spell over him before the vows, or everything would be wasted. All the time they’d been together, the last month when they should have been happy out in the open… The world had shattered, but Draco was there to put the pieces back together. He simply had to figure out HOW.
**
Harry numbly followed Ron back to their table as if waking from a deep sleep. He didn’t actually remember GETTING the drinks… just walking toward the bar with Ron, and then suddenly he’s sitting down again. Maybe he was drunker than he’d initially thought…
He looked up at the new dancer on the stage, sipping his alcohol. She leered at him, licking her lips lasciviously, and he smiled weakly. It was best to be polite, but really… He couldn’t wait to get out of there and be back in bed with his Ginny.
**
**well, I'm afraid that I, well I may have faked it
and I wouldn't be caught dead in this place**+
---
+ But it's Better if You Do (Panic! at the Disco)
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