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Wooing the Reluctant	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 23188 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter book series is owned by JKR. I am not her. I make no money and I only plan to use her characters for some fun before returning them, much happier.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Title: Wooing the Reluctant

Author: Makoto Sagara

Series: Harry Potter

Archive: the usual suspects (ffnet, affnet, Foreverfandom, my site, mediaminer, makochanupdates on LJ, thehexfiles, hpfandom, and the harrydraco community on LJ); anywhere else, ask first.

Pairing: Draco/Harry, past Harry+others, past Draco/others

Rating: NC-17 (eventual; this chapter R—Draco’s a little suggestive here)

Warnings: Slash, ooc, angst, language, humour, EWE

Disclaimers: I don’t own Harry Potter and his friends. They belong to a list of people, including the wonderful JKR, Warner Bros, Scholastic Publishing, Raincoat Books, and others. I’m only borrowing them for entertainment purposes.

Author’s Notes: Only two more chapters after this. Thank you so much for the reviews so far and for sticking with me! As always, Jokes is the best and Forever’s my best girl in a crisis. Shall we share some Pumpkin Pasties for the upcoming holidays?

Chapter Ten - Keep Rival Suitors Away

Rivals sometimes need to be taken out so that they cannot steal your Intended's attentions.

“So, Harry, how did your date with Malfoy go?” Hermione asked as she and Ron sat down at their friend’s kitchen table two days after his extremely successful date with the blond.

“NO details,” Ron stressed as Harry sat across from them while directing a teapot, cups, and fresh croissants onto the table. “I love you like a brother, Harry, but that is just something I do not want to hear about.”

Harry flushed, partially embarrassed and partially annoyed at his best friend. Yes, Ron appeared to have accepted the fact that Harry was pretty much engaged to Draco Malfoy; however, he was still too squeamish to talk about it. “Yes, well, I had no intention of sharing any of those with you, Ron, so you can relax,” he said snappishly.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron whispered sheepishly. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be spreading things like that around.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I just really don’t want to know if you and that git are snogging.”

“You can breathe easier, Ron,” Hermione said with an indulgent smile for her husband. “So, what happened? You never did tell me what you got him as your gift. Where did you go for dinner? What did you do afterwards?”

“Whoa, slow down, ‘Mione,” Harry said with a chuckle. His best friend really hadn’t changed much since their time in Hogwarts; at least, not where it mattered. Her appetite for information of any kind was still utterly voracious. “We had dinner and talked for a long time. I arranged for him and Narcissa to visit Lucius at Azkaban before he passed. Parkinson and Zabini let me know that he’d received a letter about his father’s failing health the same day I sent him the reply about the dinner at the Manor. Kingsley helped me set things up for Draco. And we went to a place in Manchester for dinner and then saw a movie at one of the Muggle movie theatres there.”

“Draco Malfoy went to a Muggle film?” Hermione asked sceptically. “You don’t really expect me to accept that, do you?”

“Well, we did. We went to see Moulin Rouge with that Australian bird, Nicole Kidman, as the lead,” Harry answered.

“Hm, alright, well, I can see the appeal in going to see it with Malfoy on your date, but you were supposed to go with Ginny and I on Thursday evening for our date night, remember?” Hermione teased. Now what are we going to do?”

“I, uh, forgot, but I liked it enough to go again,” Harry said, blushing from head to toe. “Although, I could do without Draco’s snarky comments about Ewan McGregor’s singing. It was as bad as going to a film with Ron.”

Hermione giggled while Ron scowled at his best friend. “I am not that bad, thank you,” he said petulantly. “Besides, I actually like Muggle films.”

“You like Muggle musicals, Ron, with romance and tragedy?” Hermione looked at her husband smugly as he blanched. “I didn’t think so.” She then turned back to Harry with a hungry expression on her face. “So, you had a good time with him alone. That sounds promising. Aren’t you supposed to invite him and Narcissa over for dinner sometime soon? When are you going to take care of that?”

“Yeah, I was thinking that this Saturday would be okay and that we’d have the entire family over here with Draco, Narcissa, Andromeda, Teddy, Parkinson and Zabini,” Harry said, feeling tired at the thought of such a large gathering.

“Well, mate, that’s rather…ambitious, but if you’re determined to have it out, ‘Mione and I will be here to help you out,” Ron said, patting his friend on the arm carefully. “I dunno what I can do, but I’ll try anyway.”

“Thanks, Ron. I really appreciate you offering to help,” Harry said with a tiny smile. “Besides, after Molly gets here, I doubt there will be anything for any of us to do, unless she begins dictating again.” Any farther conversation was cut off by an owl tapping at the kitchen window. Harry stood and walked over to open the glass barrier and was nearly buzzed by the package that was strapped to the bird’s leg as it passed him on the way to the table to steal the croissant right off of Harry’s plate.

Ron and Hermione refrained from approaching the large eagle owl, but watched it as it gobbled down one of the fluffy pastries and started on a second. “Isn’t that Malfoy’s owl?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, I remember it from school,” Harry said, managing to remove the package while the owl devoured its purloined treat. “Draco always made sure that we knew that his parents had sent him something from home when it visited.”

“Yes, well, his cronies were only too happy to help him be the world’s biggest prat,” Ron muttered while stuffing his face with the last croissant. “What did he send you this time? I hope it’s something other than these prissy pastries my sister got you addicted to while you were dating.”

Harry unwrapped the thick, cream paper from around the box. He carefully lifted off the lid to find a plate, laden down with what appeared to be French éclairs. There was a note attached to the bottom side of the lid that Harry removed before banishing the cardboard. He set the plate down on the table and cast a Stinging Hex on it so that Ron didn’t eat the whole thing before he could finish reading the attached missive.

Dearest Harry,

            I hope that this package finds you well after our charming evening in Manchester. I look forward to spending more time with you. This is, as you’ve already guessed, your next gift and letter. However, this is the first in a series of gifts and notes. You will receive one for every day that I must spend thinking about you, alone.

            As you can see, I have sent you éclairs. Just as you love treacle tart, I prefer these as dessert, and sometimes breakfast. They have come from my favourite patisserie in Paris, one that my mother has been a fan of for as long as I can remember. Perhaps one day you will allow me to take you there to choose a new favourite dessert.

           Nevertheless, I would love to slather your delicious chest in the rich, thick cream as we made love so that I could lick it off. Would you enjoy that? I humour myself thinking you would.

            Sorry, I did say that I wanted our relationship to be based on more than just sex, but I find it difficult to think of anything else when everything reminds me of you.

            Please say that you are making plans for our next meeting to be soon. Until then, I feel as if I might expire of frustration.

With all my affection,

DLM

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco lounged on the back patio as he watched the sun rise over the garden’s hedges. His mood since his unsurprisingly enjoyable date with Harry had been nearly giddy. And he’d deny it if anyone ever attempted to accuse him of acting anything but the consummate Malfoy, for the way he wanted to burst out laughing for no real reason was rather undignified.

His mother had wisely refrained from saying anything, but he caught her smiling at him for no apparent reason. It made him indescribably grateful to Harry to see his mother so happy when she might have been miserable while awaiting news from Wycke about his father. She’d even gone so far as to give her unsolicited opinion of what she thought Harry would like when she found out that his next set of gifts consisted of delicacies that Draco wanted to share with the other man.

He’d started with éclairs—his mother’s suggestion, and he agreed with her, for who could deny that the French made the most delicious pastries? Especially when fantasising about licking the delicate and rich cream off of Harry’s chest for hours before he made wild, passionate love to him.

And he refused to talk to Pansy or Blaise about that thought. He didn’t really need for his best friends to know that he was totally, arse-over-tits, completely barking, and madly in love with Harry Potter, of all people. He had a reputation to think of, after all.

The next gift had been a little pâté made from Augury chicks’ livers and thin rice crackers he’d found while he was in China right after the war and the trials had ended. Along with the food, he’d included a note explaining that he planned on feeding Harry the treat when he finally had him at his tender mercies, before the entire meal he had planned that could be eaten while in bed.

Then, he’d sent a lovely pasta dish that consisted of light, angel hair noodles, a creamy Alfredo sauce and tiny sautéed shrimp, summer peppers and onions. He’d explained that this dish was something he’d found while in southern Italy with his parents as a child.

The next had been a bottle of his favourite Pinot Noir wine, straight from the vineyards of the Malfoy estate in Provence. It was perfectly aged to be savoured slowly with a red meat dish of Harry’s choice at any time, but Draco had to add in his note that he would prefer it to be shared only with him. Harry’s response had been a source of amusement for Draco the day before. The letter stated that as the wine was a gift to Harry, he could do with it as he saw fit, even if that meant throwing it out the window. However, since it was Draco’s favourite, Harry might consider sharing it, if he asked nicely.

He still had time before Pansy and Blaise came over to join the family part at Harry’s home for an informal lunch. The entire Weasley clan would be there, of course, and—according to Harry—the Weaslette would be bringing her fiancé. Uncharacteristically, Draco found himself feeling sorry for Oliver Wood. The poor sod was relatively handsome, rich, famous, and rather smart. For all intents and purposes, he was completely in love with Ginevra Weasley—the youngest Chaser the Harpies had taken on in a few decades.

Too bad the twat isn’t as taken with Wood as he is with her, Draco thought sourly. She’s an idiot. I never thought that she and Harry was a good match. That relationship was a bit too oedipal, if you ask me. And then she cheats on him with one of her teammates. A lecherous smile crossed Draco’s face. I don’t know if I find that repulsive because of the Weaslette being involved or interesting because of whom she chose to betray Harry with.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. That’s regardless of the actual situation. The point is that she did cheat on Harry, she’s still not over him, and she’s engaged to another man. However, her folly is my gain. Now, if she can manage to be civil during the next meal, I can avoid a huge scene in front of her family and new fiancé—not to mention the embarrassment it might cause my mother if I should make Ginevra’s misdeeds public and she attempts to air mine.

“Draco, are you ready to go, love?” Narcissa called as she stepped out of the Manor and onto the patio where he sat.

“Mother, it is only…” he took out his wand and cast a Tempus, “eight o’clock in the morning. We’re not needed at Harry’s house until eleven-thirty.”

“I know that, Draco, but we have to go pick out a gift for Harry and one for Mrs Weasley,” his mother said, her tone indicating her annoyance at him.

“I already have Harry’s gift ready,” he explained. “I’m taking him a box of caramels and some Bottie Bert’s Every Flavour Beans.”

“Why are you giving your Intended something so…plebeian, Draco?” He wanted to laugh at the disgusted curl of his mother’s lips as she tried to digest the news of his gift. Her appalled face was somewhere between expressions he’d seen both of his aunts wear and his father’s infamous sneer—the one that he’d inherited, in fact. “They are hardly delicacies, and they seem rather at odds with what you’ve sent him up until now.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but I ran into Neville Longbottom this week, and he suggested that I get those for Harry. It seems that the Boy Who Lived loved to eat common candies up in Gryffindor Tower with his hangers-on.”

“Longbottom told you that, you say?”

Draco had to look at his mother twice when she said that. It was something that his father would have said, while tapping one long finger against his chin in thought. Suddenly, Draco felt an intense longing to visit his father’s study and sit down in one of the chairs before the large fireplace while he waited for Lucius to join him. He shook his head to rid himself of the sudden attack of melancholia. “Yes, and since Longbottom happens to be on good terms with Harry still, I thought it wise to listen to his opinion.”

Narcissa nodded before giving her son a bright smile. “That still does not negate the fact that we need to get something for Molly Weasley. I’m sure that Andromeda and Theodore would love to join us in finding something that shall fit the other woman perfectly.”

“Of course, Mother,” he responded with a wry smile. “Whatever you say, I shall do.”

“There’s a good son,” she retorted, patting his cheek as if he was Teddy’s age again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey, Malfoy,” Ronald Weasley called as the blond helped Harry clear off the luncheon dishes from the large dining room table while Mrs Weasley, Narcissa and Andromeda cleaned the kitchen. “Can I have a word?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, who just blushed and shook his head before turning back to his chore. That’s a lot of help, Harry, he thought sourly before turning to his former school nemesis. “I don’t know, Weasley, can you?”

Weasley heaved a huge sigh and closed his watery blue eyes as if he was attempting to rein in his infamous temper. “Okay, so I walked into that one,” he said after a few seconds of deathly silence. “I’d like to talk to you alone for a minute, if you’d be so kind.”

Draco raised an eyebrow in question. Surely he knows that I’ve already gotten the over-protective conversation from his brother, wife and sister. Whatever else Weasley is, he’s not stupid. So, what is it that he wants to talk to me about? Quickly he realised that he wasn’t going to get his question answered just standing there staring at the other man, so he nodded. “Of course, Weasley.”

Before he could blink, the tall redhead had a hold of his arm and was dragging him through a study, passed many of the members of the Weasley family and a shocked Pansy and Blaise. Ron slammed the door shut behind them and turned to stare at Draco carefully.

“Was that truly necessary, Weasley?” Draco asked, rubbing his arm where the oaf had held him too tightly.

“Sorry about that, but I figured if they all thought we were about to have a row, they’d stay back,” Ron said, face turning an unflattering, ruddy shade. “One of the benefits of having a gigantic temper, I guess.”

“I can see the sense in that,” Draco said. “What can I do for you?”

“’Mione and I wanted to take you and Harry out for dinner tonight. You can invite Parkinson and Zabini as well if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”

“Well, it would even out the whole Gryffindor-to-Slytherin ratio, but I don’t think that’s really necessary. I seriously doubt that you would attack me in front of witnesses. I don’t think that Gryffindors are really allowed to do that.”

“I think you might want to ask them anyway, because once my sister finds out, she’s going to demand that she and Oliver come along, since neither have a match for the next week.”

“I’m rather shocked that you’re being so sensible, Weasley.”

“Look, around here, that’s going to get more than one person staring at you. Just call me Ron.”

“Don’t expect me to extend you the same courtesy, Ronald,” Draco said with a wry smirk.

“Git.”

If I had to say how he sounded just now, I’d say that he sounds almost fond of me. Draco shuddered. Perish the thought that a Weasley is fond of a Malfoy. “Fine; what time did you want to gather? Pansy will need to know if she’s to work on Blaise.”

The redhead sighed dramatically. “Why can’t you just speak normally? You sound like a pompous arse. We’ll be ‘gathering’ around six at the Leaky, unless that’s not to your Majesty’s high standards.”

Draco shook his head in disgust. “Surely you don’t expect me and my friends to actually eat in the Leaky Cauldron? That’s beyond plebeian.”

“Dear Merlin, save me from this arrogant snob,” Weasley muttered before staring at Draco full-on. “No, you moron, we’re meeting at the Leaky. ‘Mione wants to take you all to some smarmy French place in Muggle London she found with her parents. She wants to make sure that everyone is wearing the correct clothing before dragging a bunch of purebloods out into the Muggle world. She doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers.”

Well, it’s nice to know that Granger has some taste, even if her taste in men leaves something to be desired. Instead of saying something nasty about Granger, her Muggle parents or even Weasley himself, Draco just nodded. “I’ll let Pans and Blaise know then.” Without another word, he went through Harry’s dark house to find his best friends to let them know they were having dinner with Gryffindors.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry was more than just a little surprised when Hermione and Ron suggested taking the Slytherins out for a group date. However, Ginny volunteering her and Oliver as a fourth couple seemed to surprise no one else. Harry had almost wondered if George was going to try and sneak in with Angelina as well, but he could see the dark-skinned woman dragging her husband and son towards the Floo, muttering under her breath about not being able to have any more fun since she’d “settled down.”

The four couples all agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon so that Hermione could double-check their Muggle attire before they went to the restaurant she’d picked out. When he and Draco were alone, finally, the blond turned to him, worrying his bottom lip with his sharp, perfect teeth. I wonder if he knows that he got that habit from me. And is it really possible for him to pick up something like that after such a short time together? “Why don’t you spit out what’s bothering you, Draco?”

“Well, Weasley, Ronald, mentioned that Granger, Hermione, was taking us to a French restaurant in Muggle London,” the blond said, only slightly hesitating on Harry’s friend’s personal names. “I understand that the attire is more than likely Muggle formal, yes?” Harry nodded, surprised at how diplomatic Draco was attempting to be. “I’m concerned that she might not be able to… afford the bill.”

The dark-haired man couldn’t decide if he should be upset that Draco was implying his friends were poor or proud that the blond was trying to be as sensitive about the situation as possible. He settled for a mixture for both. “I know that you don’t know anything about Ron and Hermione’s finances, Draco, but I’m sure that one meal isn’t going to bankrupt them. Besides, they’ll only be paying for their meal and ours, since they’re just treating us. Hermione said it was like an engagement gift or something like that.”

“Oh, good,” Draco said, nodding for good measure. “I’d better tell Blaise to bring some Muggle money then. I’m not sure if he keeps it around unless we’re going to the continent.”

Harry couldn’t help it. Draco looked so cute now that he was done worrying. He began laughing—full body, belly laughs that brought him to his knees and tears to his eyes. “Oh, Merlin, Draco, do you always take things so seriously?”

When his fiancé was silent for a long time, Harry looked up to see a dark look in Draco’s storm grey eyes and sighed. “What?”

“Nothing,” the blond said, turning away to look out of the window of Harry’s sitting room. It was strange how well he seemed to fit the refurbished and reupholstered furniture in the Black house, but Harry guessed that it was only fitting, considering Narcissa and Andromeda were the last of the living Blacks.

“Come now, Draco, don’t be like that,” Harry whispered into the blond’s ear, placing a tiny kiss to his future spouse’s neck. When the other man shivered in desire, Harry could have crowed for joy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but you are taking everything so seriously. I’m only taking the piss out of you a little. You should be glad that it’s not George. Merlin only knows what he’d do to you.”

“Speaking of the remaining Weasley twin, he approached me the night of the dinner at the Manor about the magic I used to create your doll.”

“Oh? Does he want to market it to annoy the rest of the Wizarding world?”

“Actually, yes, that’s exactly what he wants to do.” Harry was surprised when the blond turned around and looked about the room. “Speaking of, where is it?”

“Hiding,” Harry muttered, waving his hand and dispelling the Disillusionment and Silencing charms that had been constantly stuck on the annoying mini-Draco since the first day. “It’s too inconvenient to have it about when I’m doing my shopping or out with the Muggles.”

He watched as Draco inspected the first gift with a wistful expression on his chiselled features. “I could remove the Singing Spell and the Pick-Up Line Charm. Then, it would just be a little miniature of me to follow you around.”

“I’d like it if you did that, but perhaps I could just leave it on my mantle or something,” Harry said cautiously. He knew he was in trouble when Draco looked from the doll in his hands to Harry’s face with an almost predatory expression.

“I’ll allow that, but you have to keep it either on your bedside table or the bed itself,” Draco whispered huskily. His grey eyes were nearly black with lust.

Harry had to swallow as his body began to react violently to the open and naked desire he saw written all over his fiancé’s face. “O-okay,” he said after swallowing a few more times. “We only have a few more steps in the ritual, right?”

Draco blinked, his eyes clear once more. “Yes, are you looking forward to the bonding ceremony? I can assure you that that was what Mother, Aunt Andromeda and Mrs Weasley were discussing in your kitchen this evening.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Harry said, moving to sit down on the nearest loveseat. He smiled a bit when Draco took the seat next to him automatically. “What I meant is that we haven’t really discussed anything that normal couples talk about.”

“Such as?”

“Well, where are we going to live? Are we able to have children? How would we go about that? How are we going to spend the holidays between our two families? I don’t think that Teddy’s really going to be an issue, considering how close the two of you are.”

Draco sighed heavily. “Mother is living in the Manor right now, but I have a feeling that after Father’s death and our bonding that she will request to live in one of the other properties or perhaps go live with Andromeda and Teddy.”

“Um, I could always give her Grimmauld, if you don’t think that would insult her too much.”

Draco scrunched up his forehead as he thought, something that Harry hadn’t noticed before but found adorable nonetheless. “Actually, that might not be such a bad idea. Since she’s a Black by birth, the family magic might be more willing to let her make changes to the house than you. It would also allow her to be close enough to her friends here in England and the Manor. Besides, she’d be able to reach Diagon Alley without blinking.” Draco flashed Harry a bright smile that made Harry forget to breathe for a minute. “That’s a wonderful idea. Does that mean you’d be moving to the Manor then?”

Harry made a face of distaste that he knew Draco caught, but he couldn’t help it. “Can I get back to you about that? The dinner’s really the only good memory I have of your house, Draco.”

“Fine,” Draco said a little sharply. “We have time yet before that becomes an issue. We have to talk about the other issues anyway. I’d like children and as the last of the Malfoy line it’s expected that I have an heir. I can only assume that the same would be true for you, since you’re the last of the Potters as well, but I haven’t ever researched how to have a family outside of getting some tart I was forced into marrying pregnant. That’s something we can look into when the time is right.”

“Alright,” Harry said. He could tell by the tight way that Draco was holding himself that he was upset, but Harry didn’t know what to do to make the situation any better. “What about the holidays?”

“If we lived at the Manor, there wouldn’t be a problem, would there? We could have everyone over for any and all celebrations. They could even spend the night if they needed to. There are nearly one hundred rooms that are free for our family to use while visiting and no one would be forced into sharing unless they absolutely wanted to do so. I’m not sure what we could do about Granger’s preoccupation with the house-elves though.”

“Are you ever going to come with me to the Burrow?” Harry snapped. Draco’s high-handedness was starting to irk him something awful.

“I haven’t been invited,” Draco shot back. “I was taught that it’s bad manners to just show up at someone’s home without being expressly asked to come. Family is a different story, however.”

“Oh, for the love…” Harry yelled, jumping up from the loveseat and glaring at the still seated blond. “This conversation is over.”

“You’re the one who wanted to have it out right now, Harry,” Draco said defensively. “I don’t mind talking about these things, but I don’t like being told that my family home is no good for your adopted family while being treated as if I’m ridiculous for waiting to visit the Weasley home until I get an invitation from the head of the family that mine has been feuding with for nearly twenty generations.” The blond’s face was an alarming shade of red and he was practically hissing every word. “Excuse me for being sensible.”

“Are you saying that I’m being an idiot then?” Harry yelled. “I can’t for the life of me see why you want to court and bond with me if I’m such an unreasonable moron. Perhaps we should call this whole thing off then?”

The instant those words were out of his mouth, Harry regretted them. Draco’s face paled dangerously and he looked as if Harry had smacked him. “You don’t mean that, do you?” Draco asked, sounding like a lost child.

“Of course not,” Harry said, feeling like a heel for having taken what Draco said personally. “I’m just…I don’t know. It’s difficult for me to deal with all of this. I’ve got to worry about how I can keep you and Ron from killing each other and if Ginny’s going to cause a scene. Molly just about gave me a nervous breakdown before you got here with her talk of all the things that the Weasleys and Malfoys have done to one another over the years. I was relieved to see you and Narcissa, and at the same time, I wanted nothing more than for everyone to go away so I could hide in my room.

“I feel like everything’s happening so fast and that I have no say in things anymore. I can’t breathe. I can’t relax. I can barely think before my attention is demanded by someone and I just want a few seconds to myself, if that makes any sense.” Harry took a deep breath at the end of his rant, realising that he’d been pacing the entire time. He looked over at Draco, who wore an expression of regret.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco couldn’t help but wonder how long this rant of Harry’s had been building up. While he had been enjoying the near whirlwind nature of their courting, Draco hadn’t considered how Harry might be taking it after their first date at the zoo with Teddy. The other man had always seemed somewhat hesitant, but Draco had just chalked that up to a distrust of his motives. He hadn’t really thought about all the other things going on in Harry’s already full life and how he might be adding to Harry’s stress.

“It makes perfect sense, Harry,” Draco replied, getting up to seize one of Harry’s hands so he could place a gentle kiss to the back of it. “We have been moving quickly, and I apologise for adding to your already very busy and stressful life. However, I am not sorry for beginning this process.”

Harry rewarded him with a small, shy smile. “I’d punch you if you were. I think I’m stuck with you for good now, Malfoy.”

“I’m glad that you can be made to see reason, Potter. Severus always feared that you never would.”

“Yeah, well, Snape was unduly biased because he was in love with my mum and hated my dad and godfather. His opinion of me counted for less than naught, really.”

Draco felt compelled to smile. “You might have a slight point about him then, Harry.” He pulled away and cast a specialised Finite on the doll, rendering it to nothing more than a twelve centimetre copy of himself. “For you,” he said with an exaggerated bow as he handed the stationary toy to his Intended. “Also, I have something to say that might help ease your mind on the situation between myself and your best friend.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, his eyes showing his curiosity so strongly that Draco felt the desire to kiss him breathless.

“I have reason to believe that your best friend and I are no longer ready to mutilate or murder one another.”

Harry grimaced, scrunching up his nose. “Yes, I gathered that.”

“You don’t sound so happy to hear my news.”

“It’s just that after lunch today I did figure that the two of you might be willing to get along with one another, if only for me.”

“There is that, but I don’t find him anywhere near as repulsive as I once did. So, there’s room for improvement in our relationship, true, but you can see that we are both making the effort to get along.”

“Yeah, I saw that and I’m grateful,” Harry said with a wide smile.

“Just how grateful are you?” Draco asked, leaning in to kiss his Intended. Harry eyed him speculatively before pushing him away, sans the kiss. “Not that appreciative, I see.”

“I don’t see how me feeling thankful that you’re getting along with my friends translates into sex in your brain. It’s a rather scary place, you know.”

Draco couldn’t help but smile once again. “You have no idea, my dear Harry. None at all.”

“I am wiped from this afternoon. I don’t see how I’m supposed to be able to make it through dinner, especially if all of our friends are coming along as well.” Harry frowned as he plopped back down on his sofa. “I don’t think it would be so bad if Ginny hadn’t invited herself and Oliver to come with us as well.”

“I was under the impression that there was no ill-will between yourself and Wood. At least that’s what the press has been trying to cram down our throats for the last two years since your split with the Weaslette.”

“Oh, I have no problem with Ollie,” Harry said with a slight glare at Draco’s choice of description for his ex. “He’s a great bloke. And I even like him more now that I’m not being forced to follow his psychotic workout programme for Quidditch. He’s always been a bit beyond the normal bloke when it came to Quidditch. He is one hell of a Keeper, though. It’s Gin I really don’t want to come along. She’s not been right since the articles, truth be told.”

Draco nodded, trying to swallow the bile that was threatening to ruin their conversation. It would do no good and a great deal of harm if I spoke out against the Weaslette. Harry’s aware that I hold nothing but contempt for the daft bint, so there’s no need to speak aloud. “I shall return home and let you get some rest then,” he said, making to head towards the sitting room where the Floo was located.

A hand on his arm stopped him and he turned around to stare at Harry, an eyebrow raised in question. “You can join me for my nap, if you promise to do nothing but sleep.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dinner had gone well, and afterwards, Parkinson had suggested they go to Shack—a club the Slytherins had frequented before Draco began the whole courting process. Harry was definitely curious to see his fiancé’s old hunting grounds. Besides, he’d heard nothing but good things about the club from a few of his circle as well.

Harry should have known that the day had been going too well. Lunch between the families had gone great. Ginny hadn’t made a scene. Ron had been on his best behaviour with Draco. Narcissa had charmed all of the Weasley men with virtually no effort. And even Parkinson and Zabini had been more than civil with Harry.

Draco had stayed, and they’d had a little argument, but, considering that no hexes or punches had been thrown, it was a little nothing of a fight. Afterwards, Draco had joined Harry for a nap in his bedroom on the top floor. Then, the blond had helped him pick out an appropriate outfit for their dinner with their friends. They’d shared a heated kiss before Draco Apparated to Malfoy Manor to get ready also.

All-in-all, it had been damn near perfect. It couldn’t have lasted.

As soon as they walked through the doors of the club, Draco and his friends were set upon by a group of witches and wizards that kept saying things like “We missed you”, “Where have you been”, and Harry’s absolute favourite, “You look delicious, Draco. Later, yes?” that was followed up with a wink and a heated stare.

However, it was when two of their fellow Slytherin year-mates approached them that the evening went to hell-in-a-hand-basket. Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were only too happy to fawn all over Draco, who seemed to be less than impressed with what they were trying to entice him into doing. In fact, he’d out and out stated that he wasn’t interested in sleeping with either of them, using the words trollop and strumpet to describe them and their behaviour. It wasn’t until Parkinson had threatened to gut them in front of the entire crowded club that they even left the table that Oliver and Ron had managed to secure when the group entered the club.

They might have been there an hour when Hermione spotted Ginny talking to the two girls by the bathrooms. She noted that it was a strange grouping, and while Harry agreed, he decided to keep his nose out of business that wasn’t his, after pointing Oliver in the general direction of his wayward fiancée.

Later, Draco had convinced Harry to join him on the dance floor and was moving suggestively against him when all of a sudden the blond stopped. Harry turned around to find Daphne Greengrass with her tongue shoved down Draco’s throat, while Draco just stood stock-still. He hadn’t even blinked his eyes. When Harry opened his mouth to say something, he was spun around by another woman and soundly kissed.

It wasn’t until he shoved his attacker away that he saw Ginny grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I told you he was no good, Harry,” she purred before Oliver came over and they started arguing.

“Touch me again, Greengrass, and I’ll make sure they never find your body,” Draco snarled, grabbing the gobsmacked Harry’s attention. His fiancé looked as if he was a second away from the murder he was promising the smirking woman.

“Oh, you don’t really mean that, Draco,” she purred, running her hands down her body provocatively. “We used to have such fun together. Then you got this idea in your head to court Harry Potter and you’re boring all of a sudden.” She gave a mock-pout that set Harry’s blood on fire with the urge to punch her in her magically plumped mouth.

“Well, Greengrass,” Harry snarled in shock and disgust at her vulgar display and Draco’s stoic expression in light of the woman’s offering. “You’re welcome to have him if he’s interested. I’m out of here.” And with that, he’d Apparated home.

A few seconds later, he heard pounding on his front door. He knew it was Draco and that they were going to row. He also knew that it would be ugly. And he felt that it was about time to end the farce of their courtship so that Draco could go back to his playboy days with stupid girls and even worse boys and Harry could return to his studies. It would be easier.

What he hadn’t expected was the anger and the force of Draco’s words stabbing him in the heart as he yelled and begged Harry to not end their relationship. To see the proud, regal blond that he’d come to respect, admire, and eventually love brought so low made Harry ill, but it didn’t stop him from slamming the door in Draco’s face and burying himself in his Healing studies. He had a lot to make up.

TBC

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Wooing the Reluctant