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Secrets & Lies	By : Digitallace Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14570 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with the fandom, nor do I get paid to write or post this work.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Author's Note: Please forgive the lack of Beta…it was either this or wait for Merlin knows how long to get it Beta'd. Thanks again to all my loyal readers and their patience as I post this.
Chapter 10 Edible
"So," Harry mused aloud over his entrée, which Draco ordered for him against his better judgment. He'd never liked the idea of eating veal and he'd turned his nose up when Malfoy suggested it, but the blond insisted and, never one to look squirmy in front of the enemy, Harry relented. Now there was no way he was going to admit to loving it, so he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible as he chewed, but judging from the subtle smirk on Malfoy's lips, he wasn't doing a very good job faking it. "Tell me a bit about what you do these days," he pried, remembering why he was here after all.
"It's incredibly dull, I assure you," Draco replied before taking a bite of his own meal and watching Harry cautiously. His entire body language changed at Harry's question, his shoulders growing tight and his eyes dark and scrutinizing.
"I'd like to hear about it anyway," he pressed on, wondering what caused that ominous shadow to fall over the blond's previously open face.
Draco leaned in as if he were going to whisper a delicious secret, pointing at Harry's plate with the prongs of his fork. "First, tell me how you like the veal."
With a frown, Harry sighed. "It's…adequate."
A soft chuckle escaped Draco's lips, made a tad darker from the red wine they'd been sharing. "Admit that you love it and I'll drone on about my job for as long as you like."
With a begrudging huff, Harry scowled, barely resisting the temptation to cross his arms over his chest. "Fine. It's brilliant. It's the best thing I've ever tasted," he muttered.
Draco's chest rose and fell in silent laughter as Harry continued to glare balefully across the table at him. "You look as though you've swallowed poison, Potter. Conceding to me couldn't possibly be that painful, could it? Although, that might be a first."
"I'm here, aren't I?" Harry grumbled lightly and Draco tilted his head slightly, that haunted look returned.
"Why are you here, Potter?" the man whispered, setting aside his fork, his fingers toying with the stem of his wine glass. "According to every magazine and newspaper printed since the war you are quite happy with the Weasley girl."
"I suppose you checked every single one," Harry teased, but Draco's gaze remained stoic as he nodded and Harry gaped slightly, at a loss for words.
"Don't look so surprised, Potter," he sighed, spinning his glass so that liquid crested just to the rim of his glass before sinking back down again, leaving dark stains trailing behind the wave of wine. "I'm a careful man. I have to be. I'm not well liked in some circles, tolerated in most and downright despised in others and I needed to know which group you fell into."
"And?" Harry asked, trying not to sound nervous despite the sudden tightness in his guts.
Draco's jaw clenched as if biting a bitter fruit. "I've yet to decide. You've never once mentioned my family in an interview, which I appreciate given our history. You've never said anything too harsh about the ex-Death Eaters, nothing uncommon for an Auror anyway. Merely that it's your mission to stop anyone who is still using Dark and illegal magic."
"Well, there's nothing for you to worry about then, is there?" he asked, the question lingering between them.
A slow smile curled Draco's lips. "Why, Potter? Am I under investigation?"
All the air seemed to drain from Harry's immediate vicinity, but he kept his face placid as he gripped his own wine glass, finding slight comfort in the small act as if the glass were anchoring him to the table. "Do you really think that this is how I would conduct an investigation, Malfoy? Sleeping with the enemy?" he answered evasively.
Mercurial eyes stared for a long moment and then Malfoy nodded to himself. For a startling second Harry thought that Draco was confirming his words, that the blond really did think that this was how he typically went about catching criminals, but in the next minute Malfoy was changing the subject, clearly satisfied with Harry's answer. "My work," he began, pausing to sip at his wine, "Fluctuates…. Since my father's untimely exodus to Azkaban, his clients have relied upon me to pick up the slack. Unfortunately, I have no interest in the work. It's all politics and back scratching and false platitudes and it's not for me."
Harry held back a scoff at that. Quite frankly it sounded exactly like Draco's own personal heaven, but perhaps that was the Malfoy from school, not the man who sat in front of him today. Harry had surely changed over the past few years, why not Draco?
"What did your father do for a living?" Harry asked, even though he had a lengthy file on the elder Malfoy's dark artifact business. "Besides make my life utterly miserable, of course," he added lightly, wishing he could retract his words at Malfoy's narrowed gaze.
"My father was a brilliant man. Wise, terrifying and even gentle when he needed to be." Draco stared off, almost wistfully before reining his attention back to Harry. "But he made several mistakes in his life that I don't intend to repeat."
Harry was mildly shocked at the relief he felt at Malfoy's words. "Well, that's good, right? So you've changed your father's business?"
"I've made plenty of changes," he answered vaguely. "And I'll continue to make them until I enjoy getting up and going into the office each day."
"It makes a big difference when you love your job, I think. It did for me anyway," Harry admitted, taking another bite of his food before it got cold.
"You say that as if you haven't always loved being a hero," Draco chuckled.
"Being a hero isn't my job." The words came out a tad more bitter than he'd intended.
"No. I guess not," Draco conceded coyly. "Just more of who you are, I guess," he added with a wink, making Harry roll his eyes.
"I quit my job recently," he whispered, not meeting Draco's shocked gaze. "I know exactly what it's like not to believe in what you do, to hate it."
"I read you were fired," Draco argued, but not much. Harry could tell the blond believed him by the warm, questioning smile he offered. "What happened?"
"Bastards," Harry hissed lightly. "I got in a fairly heated argument with my superior over an assignment. I didn't agree with the morals of the mission," he elaborated, a tight clenching in his stomach as he recalled that he was continuing the same mission on his own now. "The Ministry has corrupted me," he muttered. "And I've let it. I hated who it was turning me into. What it still is."
Draco nodded sagely. "I know the feeling. Sometimes I wonder if the word pureblood is just a sarcastic joke. I feel like my blood is tainted beyond recognition sometimes. My parents' mistakes, my own…it all tells a fairly gruesome story."
"We all have those," Harry assured quietly, trying not to reflect on his own. All the people who died, even the ones he saved and still managed to hurt. Like the girl he asked to move in with him and then abandoned to play Auror with Draco. "I'm sure the skeletons in your closets are no uglier than mine," he offered, realizing that he meant it. Harry honestly didn't believe that Draco was a criminal, or that he deserved to be treated as such.
With a wry grin, Draco nodded. "Very true. My skeletons are quite attractive. Like me, wouldn't you say?" he flirted.
Harry rolled his eyes lightly, but he could feel the heat of a blush creep along his neck. "Beautiful and arrogant. Typical."
The faint flush that stole against Draco's cheeks was more endearing than Harry was willing to admit. Something coiled lazily through his gut, warm and soothing even as it made him want to squirm nervously. "So glad you noticed," Malfoy said at last, his eyes locked with Harry's in a smoldering battle, seemingly challenging Harry to leap across the table and take what he wanted.
But what did he want exactly?
Swallowing thickly, Harry tore his gaze free of Malfoy's and looked down at his plate. "I never answered your question," he whispered, looking up to see Draco's thoughtful smirk. He'd assumed an explanation would be necessary, but the blond still staring at him seemed to understand exactly what question he was referring to. "I'm here because I want to be." He knew the words were true, even if they weren't true for the right reasons. He wanted this case closed and he even wanted it to go favorably for Malfoy. He wanted the man smiling across the table at him to walk away a free and innocent man. But for that to happen, Malfoy actually had to be innocent. "And because you invited me," he added teasingly, a heartbeat later.
"That I did," Draco agreed softly, his gaze boring straight through Harry's numerous defenses. "Do you know why?" Harry's breath caught in his throat as he shook his head, waiting for Draco's answer. "Because I found it difficult to concentrate after I saw you out that night, the way your body practically melded against that other man's. The way your eyes kept drifting to me as you danced with him." He smirked, a familiar expression that made Harry narrow his eyes. "I knew then that you wanted to kiss me," he continued as Harry began to glower at him. "And I found myself wanting to let you."
Harry rolled his eyes, even as his heart gave a vicious thump against his ribcage. "If I do, it's only because it's an easy way to shut you up," Harry countered, but Draco's eyes were sparkling and triumphant.
"Then why don't you come over here and shut me up already?" Draco asked, his voice low and seductive.
"Because I don't kiss on the first date," he argued lamely, his heart beating so quickly now he thought it might break free.
"Technically you could consider this our second date," Draco pointed out and Harry didn't think he was imagining that the blond leaned closer to him.
Harry scrunched his nose and shook his head. "Do you really want me to remember our first date as the night you fell into a drunken stupor the moment you got me home?" he pointed out, smirking at Draco's loss for words. "Besides, I don't kiss on the second date either."
A soft snort met his ears as Draco shook his head wryly. "On which dateis it acceptable to kiss you then?"
"Maybe the fourth," Harry teased, grinning madly.
"The fourth?" Draco balked. "If it takes you that long just to snog someone, how many dates until we shag?"
Harry's grin grew impossibly wider and he shrugged. "Eighteen at least….twenty-five tops."
"I knew you'd be hard work, Potter," Draco mumbled, erasing the mirth from Harry's face.
"Wait…what's that supposed to mean?" Harry grumbled as Draco's genuine, bell-like laughter filled his ears, suddenly making him curious why he was ever cross to begin with.
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Eating dessert should be illegal. That's the conclusion Harry came to while watching Malfoy fellate his spoon of Crème brûlée over and over and over again. He'd hear the sharp crack of Malfoy's silver breaking through the sugary crust, before dipping into the buttery yellow custard and then watched with rapt attention as he raised it to succulent-looking lips. If watching the blond's perfectly pick tongue dart out to caress the spoon, or seeing the way it so completely disappeared behind those lips wasn't enough, the noises he made while enjoying the dessert should be outlawed on their own.
It made Harry's trousers uncomfortably tight and caused him to forget entirely about his own dessert, his focus entirely riveted to the debauched display before him. "Malfoy," Harry choked out, a shiver coursing through him as mercurial eyes met his.
"Hm?" The sound was hummed around the utensil in his mouth, an absurdly erotic slurp following as he pulled it free. "What?"
"Must you continue to keep eating…like that?" he asked, gesturing to the general direction of Malfoy's mouth.
"Like what?" Malfoy inquired, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Harry merely gave a defeated sigh. He certainly wasn't going to explain it to the sadistic Slytherin. "If you're wondering if I make those noises when I'm sucking cock," Malfoy murmured hotly, his smirk widening. "I suppose you'll just have to wait and find out."
Harry swallowed thickly. "You're sort of wicked," he pointed out unnecessarily. "Has anyone told you that?"
"Yes," Draco replied with an elegant shrug. "But never anyone with such a pretty mouth."
A flush stole across Harry's cheeks before he could help himself. "Still not kissing on the first date," he reminded Malfoy, his voice thankfully unshaken.
"Fine, fine," Malfoy lifted his hands in defeat, a slow smirk spreading across his porcelain features. He opened his mouth to say more when the waiter arrived, presenting a bill that the blond scooped up despite Harry's scowl. "I invited you," he said in answer to the unvoiced protest.
As they finished and wandered out of the restaurant, Harry felt even more uncomfortable than he had sitting across from Draco at dinner. Something about the man's stride, the way his presence felt like a firm weight at his side, was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, not unpleasant at all. The air was damp from an evening shower and his date's hair was already attracting droplets that made the platinum strands look more silver than blond. He imagined Malfoy as an old man and quickly determined that he'd still look regal, perhaps more so, and Harry found himself wondering what he might look like in ten years time - twenty or thirty.
Not that looks mattered much in the scheme of things. What really mattered was chemistry, compatibility, but when Malfoy looked up and caught him staring, the wry smile he gave him showed a hint of how much of those things they might share as well. "That mind of yours is spinning wildly. I can practically see it working," Draco whispered.
"I'm just…enjoying myself," Harry admitted somewhat awkwardly.
A soft chuckle met his ears and he found his hand enveloped in strong warmth. "I know the very idea of enjoying a date with me must send your mind reeling," he teased. "I know it's having a similar affect on me."
"You're enjoying yourself too then?" His fingers flexed within Draco's hold, almost testing, but those lithe fingers didn't release him and the feeling comforted him more than it should have.
"Uncanny, isn't it?"
They kept walking along the London street that way, hand in hand, as Harry's mind skipped back and forth between comfort and confusion, guilt and pleasure, his stomach churning with the battle raging inside of him.
"I have a confession to make." Draco's voice broke through Harry's inner turmoil and he glanced over at the man.
"Oh?" Harry asked, bracing himself for the worst. This is it. This is where I find out that Malfoy is as bad a man as Fledgecraft vowed and I'll be forced to arrest him. His heart felt like it was beating far too loudly in the quiet of the street. Or maybe this was what Kingsley had been warning him of and he'd just fallen eagerly into Malfoy's own little trap.
"I had ulterior motives for this date," he admitted, his hand still firmly within Harry's.
"You did," Harry rasped, not a question so much as an acknowledgement of his own stupidity. Of course he had. Draco Malfoy did nothing without ulterior motives. The past was not so easily erased and people didn't change, not really. Not the way Harry wanted to desperately to think they could.
A soft sigh escaped the blond's lips and his thumb began drawing circles on Harry's palm, a nervous gesture, he suspected. "I had trouble not thinking about you since that night at the club," he said at last. "There was a spark of interest and I found it increasingly difficult to ignore." Harry's mouth went dry as a completely different confession than Harry had been expecting tumbled from the blond's lips, but he remained silent as Draco plowed ahead. "I was half hoping this date would be the disaster I expected and I could put you out of my head for good."
"And?" Harry asked, holding his breath as he listened for the answer, not even sure which way he wanted Draco's opinion to tilt.
"And," the blond huffed, "You chew too loudly, you stare quite a bit more than is usually polite and your table manners are dreadful," he pointed out.
Scorned laughter echoed hollowly around them and Harry couldn't recall the last time he'd heard such a sound from his own throat.
"But," Draco said quickly, stopping them just inside the mouth of an alleyway. "I don't find myself minding any of that as much as I usually do."
Malfoy's stormy gaze seemed to be lit from behind, glowing silver from beneath a thicket of blond lashes and Harry's gaze was riveted to the spot as if he were compelled into stillness. "What a grand compliment," he said at last, even though part of him knew that from a Malfoy, it was.
Draco laughed lightly. "You're uncouth, untidy and an annoying do-gooder," he continued, but Harry bristled and cut him off.
"And you're a smug, arrogant prat," Harry countered, green eyes narrowing.
"Yes. I am," Draco agreed, surprising him. "And I have no intention of changing. Do you?"
"No," Harry bit out, standing a bit taller, changing his stance as if preparing for a blow. He knew the blond had no intention of hitting him, but he still felt the air charged around them like trapped lightning.
"And still I want you," Draco whispered, as if the words astounded him as much as they did Harry.
Time seemed to slow down in that moment. The wind kicked up and rustled Draco's hair and coat, making him look lost and powerful all at once. Harry realized in that moment the undeniable attraction between them, tethering them together as the street lamps seemed to flicker from the energy the pair gave off. Draco's words echoed inside of his head until he felt he might go mad and deep below all of it was Hermione's logical voice of waning. He knew he was going too far, breaking so many of his own rules, but in this one moment, he didn't care about anything but the man right in front of him.
And then time seemed to shift once more, speeding up to claim the moments it had lost. Their lips crashed together violently, teeth clashing with the force of their kiss. Both men scrambled for dominance and tore at the other, their twin desires making them wild and hungry for the other's touch. Harry tasted blood but didn't know if it was his or Draco's and didn't care. He plunged his tongue through Draco's willing lips, inciting a fevered battle right there in the alleyway until the need for air drove them apart, blinking at one another as they sucked in breath after shuddering breath.
As Harry's carefully constructed world came crumbling apart all around him, it was Draco's hand that finally made him falter as it tore free of his grasp. "No," Draco said, shaking his head in bewilderment. "This won't work. It can't," he whispered, almost to himself as he slowly backed away from Harry and further into the waiting darkness of the alley.
Harry reached out before he could stop himself, but dropped his hand as Draco merely stared at it, horror written all over his haughty features. "This was a mistake," he whispered and disappeared with a crack of Apparition, leaving Harry behind to stare, shell-shocked, and wonder what had just happened.
Author's Note: Oh No!!!! How could this writer do this to you all?! She's awful!!
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