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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
- 10
- 11
- 12
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 PG-13)

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: One more chapter to go! Thank you for all of the reviews. I hope you’re willing to stick with me until the end! And yes, Ginny and Daphne will get what’s coming to them. I promise. I kind of like living, and the reviews had me a little afraid for my life for about two or three minutes. This chapter has a lot in it, so it’s pretty long. Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven - Apologize, If You Must

If you make a mistake with your Intended, the words "I'm sorry" go a long way in healing harms.

Draco pulled his covers over his head, determined not to get out of bed ever again. It had been four days since Harry had called off their courting over what had happened with Daphne and Ginevra at Shack. He’d been lucky enough to avoid his mother upon returning to the Manor, and since then, he’d refused post, meals, and visitors. For the last four days, he’d done nothing but mope, as unseemly as that was.

When Harry had slammed the door to Number Twelve in his face, Draco was forced to realise, without a doubt, that he loved the stubborn Gryffindor. No one else had made him feel this way in his entire life, and now he had been shoved out into the cold—literally. He was vaguely surprised that he hadn’t cried over the entire ordeal, wondering how he was keeping it all at bay. He fully expected by now that he would have cried himself out, but somehow he’d remained dry-eyed, despite the itching that had remained constantly behind his closed lids.

His bedroom door was blasted open, causing Draco to flinch but otherwise remain under the safety of his covers. He didn’t really care anymore. It wasn’t the Dark Lord, his father, or the Ministry, and there was no way in hell that it was Harry. In other words, it wasn’t important to him at all because there was no way it could kill, imprison, or fix him.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, get your skinny, pale arse out of your bed this instant,” Pansy snarled as she ripped away his thin barrier from the world. Her pretty face went from angry to disgusted in two seconds flat. “Merlin, you smell like an outhouse. Have you showered lately?”

“Why bother?” he muttered, trying to snatch his blanket back from his best friend and failing spectacularly.

“Because you are perhaps the vainest person I know, and personal hygiene is an absolute must. Potter’s never going to take you back with you smelling like a dead body.”

“Harry’s never going to take me back, Pans, so what’s it matter?”

“Oh, Draco, you’ve got it bad,” she whispered, bending over to stroke his stringy, greasy hair. “You know, right now, you remind me a lot of Snape, except you look like your father. Please, love, get up and take a shower, shave, put on some clean clothes, and then I’ll help you plot to win back that stupid Gryffindor.”

For the first time in nearly ninety hours, a little ray of hope flared to life in Draco’s chest and he felt the corners of his mouth tip up into a tiny smirk. “I’m keeping you to your word on that, Parkinson,” he said as he slowly dragged his heavy limbs from his four-poster bed. It was then that he noticed that he did indeed smell like an Inferus. “After I bathe,” he yelled, finding the energy to run to his en-suite bathroom.

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

A knock at the door downstairs made Harry look up from his Psychology book. He waved his wand in front of him, casting a nonverbal Look-See spell. Hermione and Ron were at his front door, again, but this time they’d brought Zabini with them. Why in the world have they brought one of his friends with him? I’ve already told them that I came to my senses about the whole courting mess. There’s no way that a marriage could have worked between us. He’s too used to being fawned over, and I don’t want to be in a relationship with an immature, spoilt brat that I have nothing in common with besides Quidditch and a hatred of monkeys.

“You might as well give in, Potter,” Zabini yelled. Harry couldn’t help but stare at the dark-skinned man in shock. His normally bored facial features were curled into a snarl that reminded Harry of a Hogwarts-era Draco, complete with the flashing eyes and flared nostrils. “I hope you didn’t think that the warning Pansy and I gave you that day only applied if Pansy was the one who came after you. It doesn’t. Besides, Pansy’s taken the Weasley twin with her to the Manor.”

“He’s right, Harry,” Hermione added, wringing her hands. It was her new nervous tell. It kept her from pulling her hair out, or at least that’s what she’d told Harry and Ron nearly a year ago when she’d started doing it. “Think of this as a much needed intervention.”

“Mate, you have ten seconds before I forget about being an Auror and I break down your door to beat some sense into your thick skull,” Ron shouted. “I’ll just apologise to Kingsley and Robards later.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Harry shot back as he stormed down the stairs, making sure his voice projected through the door to his friends and their token Slytherin. He threw open the door to Number Twelve and found his best friend with his wand raised, as if to make good on his threat. “You know, I should call the authorities on you lot for disturbing the peace.”

“Shut your gob,” Ron said, smiling. “I am the authorities. Besides, this citizen,” he indicated Zabini, “has a legitimate complaint against you.”

“What? Is Malfoy dragging him out all hours of the night away from his lovely fiancée? I can’t imagine he’d be complaining about being away from Parkinson.”

He hadn’t been expecting the fist that crashed into his face, although he should have. He was forced to stare up at his attacker and best friends in shock as he processed what happened to him. “You and Draco deserve each other. You’re both so fucking stubborn and idiotic that there’s no one else who could ever match up with you half as well,” Zabini snarled as he helped Harry stand once more. “That was just the first of many if you continue to be stupid, Potter. I don’t have patience for the wilfully ignorant. And I did warn you that you wouldn’t like the way it turned out if you managed to hurt my friend. And I still owe you one for the insult to my future wife, you common prat.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I find this little display of Slytherin loyalty a bit much,” Harry said as he rubbed his jaw. “Greengrass certainly had no problem proving that Malfoy has trouble with the concept.”

“You’re an idiot, Harry Potter,” Hermione snapped. Her outburst made all three men stare at her in surprise. “Malfoy has actually turned into a decent bloke, and a blind man could see how besotted he is with you. Greengrass has always been a slag, and I’m sure that if she hadn’t been female that Malfoy would have probably tried to beat her to a bloody pulp for kissing him the way she did.”

“Yes, well, Daph’s never been big on any kind of fidelity. She says it’s a plebeian concept,” Zabini said with a sneer on his former housemate’s name. “That's probably because she’s never had a man that wanted to keep her around for any length of time.” He sighed heavily as he pushed passed Harry and moved into the front drawing room. He sat down on the couch and waited for the others to join him before talking again. “Look, I’ll grant you that Draco had his days of sowing wild oats and all that before he took up the idea to court you, Potter. It’s a fairly common occurrence, I’ve heard. Since then, though, he’s been a good boy, staying at home with Narcissa and trying to actually implement all those grand things he talked about in that interview he gave to Honeycomb.”

“In other words, Harry, you overreacted because my stupid sister and Greengrass got it in their empty heads to break the two of you up,” Ron said sadly, shaking his head. “And it worked too, for the most part; although, I don’t think Gin really expected Oliver to call off their engagement like he did.”

“Ollie broke up with her?” Harry asked, stunned that the other man had so decisively called it quits with Ginny.

“Yes, well, he’s no fool, and it’s obvious to everyone that she’s still not over you,” Ron replied.

“That’s her problem,” Hermione added. “She should have considered that before she decided that she couldn’t remain faithful to Harry when they were engaged, now shouldn’t she? I just feel so sorry for Oliver. He’s completely distraught about the whole thing. I don’t think he ever considered that Ginny would do something like that, let alone to him.”

“Merlin, if she’d do it to Potter, Wood was screwed from the start. I remember her from school. In sixth and seventh years she was pretty bad,” Zabini muttered before turning to face Ron and Hermione. “Sorry, Weasley, but your sister is every bit of a slag as Daph. I’m starting to actually pity Wood and Potter, and I make it a point to never feel sorry for others who behave stupidly.”

Ron shrugged. “I’ll not fight you on that point, but that’s not really why we’re here, now is it?”

“True,” the dark-skinned man said before glaring at Harry with dangerous eyes. “As I was saying, Draco’s bent over backwards trying to prove to you that he’s serious about being with you and is worthy of your precious time. Between him, Narcissa, Pansy, my mother, and Pansy’s mum I’ve had it with all the wedding talk. I’d say that I want my best friend back, but I’m scared to think that this person probably has been lurking under the surface of Draco for ages now. He’s downright turned into a Hufflepuff, for Merlin’s sake!”

Hermione sighed dramatically, catching Harry’s attention once more. “It’s obvious to everyone who knows and loves you, Harry, that you and Draco are a great match. You two were so happy at lunch and dinner that day. So, evidently, it’s more than just the scene at the club that’s got your hackles up like this.”

“I don’t want—”

“That’s too bad,” Zabini cut across him. “Look, Potter, whatever it is that’s got your knickers in a knot, you’d better tell us now so that it can be fixed and you and Draco can get back together. Merlin knows that if I have to hear Narcissa fret over her precious son for a second more, I might lock the two of you up in the dungeons at the Manor and leave you there permanently.” Harry’s hateful glare was deftly ignored by the Slytherin. “So, you might as well spill your…What’s that annoying Muggle phrase, Granger?”

“Do you mean spill your guts?” she replied.

“That’d be the one. So, come along, Harry; spill your guts to your good friends so we can all go back to our own lives.”

“We had a little argument earlier that day,” Harry said reluctantly. “And before you all ask about what, I’ll tell you; we were fighting over children and where we’d live after this was all over.” Both Ron and Zabini nodded in understanding, but it was Hermione who looked stumped.

“Why would you two fight about those things?” she asked. “I always assumed that you both wanted to have children. And why wouldn’t you live here at Grimmauld?”

“Granger, please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m well aware that you are a brilliant witch, but that was perhaps the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say in all the years we’ve known one another,” Zabini said with a sad shake of his head. “Yes, Draco wants children, in the way that all purebloods want children. Well, besides the Weasleys, I’m sure. However, it’s paramount for Draco to have an heir. He’s a lord. He must have an heir for the continuance of the line or his family’s magic might turn on him. Also, since he is a lord, he has to spend at least seventy-five per cent of the year at Malfoy Manor.”

“Oh,” Hermione said after a few moments of silence. “Well, I can see how that would be a problem.”

“So, I take it that you told Malfoy that you had problems with living there,” Ron said slowly.

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” Harry admitted in a small voice. “I just…I don’t know if I’m comfortable enough to live in a home where Voldemort kept his headquarters and was the site of killings and tortures of people I knew.”

“Potter, for a long time, Draco and Narcissa had a hard time being there too,” Zabini said in a quiet tone. “The rooms that you see now have been so redone that the Manor is practically a different place than what it was when we were kids. You know some of what Draco went through at the time that they were forced to house the Death Eaters. It was obvious from your testimony at his trial. So, you can understand that it was only the fact that his father was still alive that kept him from tearing the whole thing down and rebuilding.”

“That still doesn’t stop me from thinking that this room might be the spot where Bellatrix tortured Hermione or that room is where I stole Draco’s wand and where Dobby spent the last few seconds of his life,” Harry whispered heatedly. “I don’t blame Draco or Narcissa for what happened. They did all that they could to protect each other, and they both lied for me at one time or another. However, I still can’t get over the fact that his home was the site of atrocities. It’s a very overwhelming fact.”

“Do you know what’s overwhelming?” Ron asked angrily. “The fact that you decided that it was Malfoy’s fault for what happened at the club that night. If anything, the poor bloke was assaulted just as much as you were by a crazy twit that doesn’t know how to take no as a final answer. I also know that he threatened her with death if she tried to touch him again. That’s not the sign of a man who wants to cheat on the man he’s courting and intending to marry.”

“Also, my friend was very quick to follow after you just left him in the middle of the dance floor like that, Potter,” Zabini added.

The unusual double teaming of Ron and the Slytherin was starting to wear Harry down. He closed his eyes against the burning sting that had sprung up and put up a hand to silence the two men. He felt slim, familiar arms wrap around him, and he buried his head in her bushy hair.

“I’ve screwed up, haven’t I?” he asked hoarsely.

“A little,” Hermione answered, stroking his hair gently. “But, you know, this is one of the steps in the courting process. Now, we find out how to tell Malfoy that you’re sorry.”

“Seriously?” He looked up at her with a sceptical look.

“Actually, she’s right,” Zabini said thoughtfully. “I can help you with him, if you’re serious about making this work. Otherwise, I’m going to have to break your kneecaps.”

“You sound like some Sicilian mafioso,” Harry muttered as he buried his face in his best friend’s hair again. “But I’d like your help anyway.”

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

Draco hadn’t expected for George Weasley to be looking around his private sitting room when he walked into it after his shower and dressing. “Where did Pansy go, Weasley?”

“Oh, well, Parkinson said she was going to tell your mother that you’d finally emerged from your cave,” George said with a wide smile. “I thought it was a rather good analogy, considering your name.”

Draco felt himself smiling again and shook his head fondly. “So, you’re her backup for this attempt to get me to ‘wise up’?” He calmly took his seat on the couch near the fireplace.

“When you put it like that, it does sound rather stupid,” the redhead said as he sat down across from Draco. The smile he’d been wearing faded rather quickly. “You’ll be happy to know that Ginny has been banished from Mum and Dad’s until she can prove that she’s not about to go nuts over Harry again. And Oliver’s ended their engagement. I’m sure it’ll be all over the papers by tomorrow, especially since I sent in the notice to the Prophet myself.”

“I’m not entirely happy to hear that, Weasley. It’s the least she deserves, if you ask me.”

“Look, if you can call ickle Ronniekins by his first name, you should be able to do the same with me. I’m much more personable than he is anyway.” The mischievous smile that Draco remembered from Hogwarts returned to the other man’s face.

“I can agree with that, George,” Draco replied. “Tea?”

“Yes, please; with Angie and Lee watching over the shop and little Freddie today, I can afford a bit of a chat with you and Parkinson.”

“I must admit that you and Pansy make a very unlikely pairing. Where is Blaise?” Draco asked while calling a house-elf to bring tea and sandwiches. Now that he was up and moving around, he found that he was starving. Besides, he knew that the news would get back to his mother and that would save her from pestering him about taking nourishment.

“He’s out knocking some sense into Harry with Ron and Hermione, if I’ve remembered the plan correctly.”

“You have, Weasley,” Pansy said as she entered the room. Her brown eyes cut to the door she’d blasted down. “You are going to call an elf to fix that, yes?”

“Later,” Draco answered, crossing one long leg over the other. “So, let’s assume that I’ve had my little talking-to, shall we? What is the next step?”

“The next step, dearest, is that we figure out how to make those little twats pay for being stupid enough to get between you and Potter. Despite what Weasley has said, I don’t think Ginevra is ready to just give up on her pursuit of her little boy-hero.”

“Harry’s not a boy,” Draco responded lazily as he munched delicately on a cucumber sandwich. It’s so nice that I don’t have to tell the elves what to bring me anymore.

“Well, I should hope not, with the way that you and Ginny are so obsessed over him,” George replied jovially. “Look, Parkinson, I know that everyone is mad at my sister, and that’s fine. She’s screwed up majorly this time. No one in the family’s going to defend her against ruining two relationships with her selfishness, but she’s still my sister.”

“Are you asking me to let your family deal with her then, Weasley?” Pansy asked archly.

“Yes.”

“Done, but you’d better make sure that she’s punished adequately. And I don’t just mean that her engagement with Wood is broken and she’s shunned for a bit.”

Draco watched as his best friend glared coldly at the lone Gryffindor in their midst. Mother will be so proud that Pansy learned that little trick from her, he thought.

“I want her to pay for what she’s done to my best friend,” Pansy continued icily.

“Pans, love, I do appreciate your defence of me. It endears you to my heart in ways you can’t begin to imagine,” Draco drawled. “However, Ginevra’s pain and/or punishment is secondary to getting Harry back, in my opinion. That’s all I care about right now. Revenge on her is for later.”

Pansy stared at her best friend as if he’d grown a second head. “Blaise was right when he said that this Hufflepuff has been looming in the distance the whole time we’ve know you. Lucius would deny you as his child if he could see you.” She sighed heavily. “Fine, but I am still going to take down Daphne and Tracey, whether you help or not. I detest them both.”

Draco gave her and George a cold smile. “Now, see, I said nothing about Daphne and Tracey waiting for later, did I?”

George smiled widely, his white teeth flashing almost hungrily. “See, I like the way you think, Malfoy.”

“Pansy, remember those photos that we took of them during seventh year?”

“Well, of course, dearest, but…” She paused and gave her own version of Draco and George’s smiles. “Skeeter?”

“Who else but that obnoxious beetle would do them justice?” He took a long sip of the Darjeeling tea the elves had prepared. “Oh, you might want to send a copy to the Aurors as well; Ronald, specifically, if you can manage it. I’m sure the Ministry would love to know that they are still up to their old tricks.”

“And what are you tipping my brother off about?” George asked.

“Well, it just so happens that Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were the biggest brewers of illegal Ecstasy Potions during our horrid seventh year and they haven’t stopped,” Pansy answered sweetly. “They were stupid enough to let that information slip to Draco. So, we three—counting Blaise—managed to obtain photographic proof of their shenanigans.”

“They’re dealing in eX-Pos?” George shook his head. “Malfoy, I take back every bad thing I said about you and your mum. The ones about your dad still stand.”

“Fair enough,” Draco responded. “I’m not unreasonable about what my father has done over the years now that I’m older. Now, onto more important topics, if you please. How can I get Harry back?”

“I heard you pushed Greengrass off of you with a death threat after she kissed you, so Harry wasn’t really upset about that. He was already angry and that was just an excuse he used,” George said slowly. “Did you two have a fight after lunch that day?”

“It was a slight disagreement, or so I thought at the time.” Draco finished off his tea and another small finger sandwich while he remembered the fight. “He was panicking about how things were progressing so quickly. Now, I can see he was right to worry. What’s that expression that the Yanks use, Pans? He was waiting for the other boot to drop?”

“Close enough, dearest, but it’s ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop.’ What did he say?”

“Well, to be honest, we’d only been talking about the past and some of the present until that point in time. He seemed to be unduly worried about the future.”

“Unduly?” George asked, his smile fading again. “You know, for a long time, he thought he wasn’t going to live to have a career outside of Hogwarts. In fact, he told us all that he actually had to die to kill Voldemort. So, worrying about the future is a positive sign, I think. He hadn’t really been doing that since he called off the engagement with my sister for her being a cheating bitch.”

“He told you about that?” Draco asked. “He told me that he’d only told Ronald and Hermione about why he had left Ginevra.”

“Yes, well, Mum made her tell the entire family after Oliver broke up with her too.” The redhead frowned. “Sadly, Angie and I figured it was something like that. Harry’s pretty generous when it comes to those he loves. My stupid brother is proof of that, but he doesn’t forgive betrayal very easily.”

“Yes, yes, we all know about Potter’s tendency to forgive those around him too easily,” Pansy snarled. “I only wished that he would use common sense. It was obvious to everyone in that club that Draco did not invite or enjoy that kiss from Daphne. I especially loved your remark to her afterwards, dearest, but you know that she’s dumber than a Crup in a Kneazle pen.”

“That is why we are releasing all those lovely photos that Blaise took, Pans.” He shook his blond head in disgust. “Now, what can I do to make him see that I’m serious about everything, yet again?”

“Draco, I hate to tell you this, but it’s Harry that needs to man up and apologize for making a big deal out of the fact that you were pretty much face-raped on a dance floor,” George said as he took a finger sandwich and stared at it sullenly before popping the entire thing in his mouth. At least he swallowed before he spoke again, which was more than Ronald did at lunch the other day. “But, ‘Mione, Ron and Zabini will work on that. What kind of things did the two of you disagree over?”

“It wasn’t so much as disagree as we brought them up and then he just shoved them to the side to tell me how stressed out he’s been since the beginning of our courtship,” Draco answered honestly. “But our topics were children to continue the lines and where we would live after the bonding ceremony.”

“You’ll be living here, of course,” Pansy said. “You can’t really live anywhere else, can you?”

“It’s not that simple, Pansy,” Draco said sullenly. “Harry has been to the Manor exactly twice. The first time he and his friends were held prisoner and Granger was tortured by my aunt Bella. The second time was the dinner we had where I gave him the ring.”

“Did he return the ring, Draco?” George asked suddenly.

“No,” the blond answered. “He slammed the door in my face and told me it was over.”

“Then he didn’t mean it,” the redhead said happily. “If he’d had, he would have returned the ring by now. I’m going to assume that it has the binding spell that keeps it from being stolen, right?”

“Of course it did! Do you think I’m stupid?” Draco snapped.

“Dearest, he didn’t mean it like that,” Pansy cut in. “I get what you’re saying Weasley. If Potter had really meant that the courting was over, the ring would have lost the enchantment and he would have returned it.”

“Exactly,” George said, eating two more of the cucumber sandwiches. “Now, I can help you with some stuff for Harry. You’re at the apology stage, right?”

“Yes, but you said that I don’t need to do that,” Draco said, puzzled at the change in topic, but hopeful that the redhead and his best friend were correct.

“You still have to give a gift, Malfoy, since you initiated the ritual,” George said.

“Merlin, you’re right,” he growled in response. “Fine, so we’ll tackle the children issue first. I want them. He wants them. We actually need them to continue the family names and so the Malfoy family magic doesn’t castrate me or some such atrocity. What are my choices, Pans?”

“Really, darling, I had hoped you would ask me about this before now,” Narcissa said from the doorway. “I will forgive you because I know that you’ve been preoccupied until this moment.” She smiled as she waved a stack of parchments in her hands.

“Mother, what have you found?” he asked, delighted to see his beloved mother for the first time in days.

“Well, you have two options, from what I can see,” she answered, shuffling a few of the parchments as she took the seat next to him on his couch. “The Muggles have adapted these from us, but that doesn’t keep them from being useful. There is the adoption of a child that ties to one or more sides of the family. Teddy would be a great example, since the Healers don’t think that he inherited any of the werewolf traits from Remus Lupin, aside from his obsession with eating a lot of red meat. He’s practically Harry’s child anyway. It would only take a little Blood Magic to make him a Malfoy or a Potter, depending on what you wish.

“The other option is surrogacy, but the carrier would have to be someone that we all explicitly trusted, and I would suggest that she’d already had at least one child of her own.”

“And how would you suggest that I present these options to Harry, Mother?” Draco asked. He looked over to see interested looks on the faces of his friends. “He’s not exactly speaking to me at the moment, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Narcissa raised one thin, perfectly sculpted blonde eyebrow at him. “If you continue talking to me like that, I do believe that I won’t let you know the second part of what I had planned.”

“No, Mother, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, before she could make good on her threat. He knew better than to push her when she used that tone. “Please tell me. I am at your disposal.”

“Well, when you beg so prettily, Draco. This is what I had in mind…”

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

“Are you sure that this is going to work?” Harry asked Zabini again. The Slytherin glared at him in annoyance. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. He’d be well within his rights to tell me to get lost and never contact him again.”

“Merlin, Potter, you’re a mess,” Zabini muttered. “I’ve told you ten times before now that this is the best thing you could do. Now, are you going to be able to stomach so much time around the Manor?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice, Harry,” Hermione offered from his other side, staring at the imposing iron gates in front of Malfoy Manor. “We could go home and you could return Draco’s ring with the intention of never seeing him again.”

Harry frowned as he turned to look back at the Manor himself. “Not an option, so let’s just get this over with. And you’re sure he’s there, Zabini?”

“That’s what Pansy said. Look, Potter, I’m still pissed at you for what you’ve said about my fiancée, even if you have apologised about it, so if you bollix this up, I’ll be beating you to a pulp, Saviour of the Wizarding World or not.”

“Fair enough,” Harry replied stoically. “Although, I am sorry that I was so nasty about Parkinson; she’s not so bad, I guess.”

“If you’re really that sorry, fix this crap with Draco,” Zabini ordered before marching up the long drive to the portico of the grand estate home. Harry and Hermione followed him at a more sedate pace, both lost in their own thoughts. “And would you mind terribly hurrying the fuck up? I have dinner with my mother, and she does not like to be kept waiting.”

Straightening his back, Harry took a deep breath and marched up the long drive as if he was facing his death—again. He could hear Hermione following behind him so that he didn’t attempt to Apparate back to Grimmauld Place and forget this whole thing. When he reached the steps that lead to the grandiose oak doors, he could feel the weight of the majestic manor and all of its consequence.

“Should we knock?” he whispered to Zabini. The other man ignored his stupidity and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, one of the grand portals opened a few inches and a little green-skinned and wrinkled face could just be seen looking up at the group of humans. “Is your master home?” Harry asked. He was surprised at how strong his voice sounded when on the inside he felt like he was ready to be ill.

“Master Draco is already having company right now,” the elf said sadly. “If you is to be coming back later, he is sure to be seeing you then.”

“Trinky, tell Draco that I am here with Potter and Granger,” Zabini snapped impatiently.

“Yes, Master Blaise, I is going to get Master Draco right now,” Trinky squeaked before Disapparating as quickly as it could.

“Merlin, that elf is older than Lucius,” Zabini muttered darkly. “Thinks he owns the bloody Manor. Come along, you two. We’ll wait in the foyer for Draco and the others.” He swept through the open doorway and Harry and Hermione were forced to follow him or have the door shut in their faces.

They didn’t have to wait long. Before Harry could begin to rethink his decision, the sound of footsteps caught his attention. Looking up, he saw George escorting Narcissa down the grand staircase, with Draco leading Pansy. The younger woman’s face was like stone, showing absolutely no emotion. It was a little intimidating, if he was honest with himself. Draco was just as blank and just as stiff.

“Well, Blaise, my love, I do believe that you are keeping rather interesting company right now,” Parkinson said as she left Draco’s side and joined her fiancé. “Did he give you any trouble?”

“No more than we expected,” Zabini answered with a fond smile. “Weasley and Granger were quite adequate for what I had to do. I can assume that your Weasley was helpful?”

“Actually,” George cut in, “I don’t belong to her. My wife wouldn’t really approve of that, you know. Anyway, I only stayed so that I could take Hermione home. Promised Ron I would.” Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes before she turned to him, her face stern.

“You remember what we talked about,” she whispered. “If you screw up now, it won’t be Zabini you’ll have to worry about.”

“I understand, ‘Mione,” Harry muttered before cutting his eyes to drink in Draco. The blond was standing far too still and a quick look at his face showed Harry that he hadn’t been sleeping since they’d parted. His heart clenched in his chest, but he knew they had to get rid of their friends before anything could be resolved. “I’ll write you to let you know how it goes.”

With a curt nod, Hermione dragged George off, after exchanging a few words with Narcissa and Parkinson in low voices. The next to leave were Zabini and Parkinson. The woman only glared at Harry before kissing Draco on both of his cheeks. Zabini’s leave-taking was a little warmer, but the blank look on his face was more than enough to remind Harry of why he was here at this time.

“Harry, it is delightful to see you once more,” Narcissa said warmly. She flashed him an encouraging smile that bolstered his spirits just as he needed. “I would love to stay and chat with you, but I’m afraid that I have some urgent business to attend to. Shall I be seeing you for dinner?”

“I don’t know yet, Narcissa. It’s really up to Draco,” Harry said quietly, trying to steal another look at the blond. “We’ll see?”

“Of course,” she answered sadly. “Love, I shall be in my study if you need me,” she said to her son.

“Yes, Mother, thank you,” Draco said finally. He moved to kiss her on the cheek, and Harry noticed how Narcissa squeezed Draco’s bicep before she took off down the left hallway. “I’m surprised that you chose to come here, Potter,” the blond began.

“Can we just not do that, Draco?” Harry asked. “I think we’re well beyond the whole Potter-Malfoy shtick at this point.”

Draco smiled quickly before his face fell blank again. “You may have a point there, Harry. So, what it is that I can do for you?”

So much, Harry thought sadly. “First, can we sit down and talk a bit? I owe you a huge apology and an even bigger explanation. I’d rather not do it in the foyer.”

“Yes, but we will conduct this in my private sitting room,” Draco said. Harry recognized that it was some sort of challenge, and since it fit in with part of what he’d planned, he saw little harm in actually accepting the conversation on Draco’s terms. It was the least he could do.

“Okay,” Harry said finally.

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

Draco could feel his body practically trembling with the desire to touch Harry now that the other man was so close. Whether that was to kiss or punch him, it was hard to determine. So, Draco wisely kept his hands to himself and, instead of Apparating them to his private rooms as he normally would have, he slowly walked Harry down the different corridors. He made a point to show anything of interest to his companion, who remained quiet and withdrawn as they travelled.

He said he’s come to apologize and explain things to me, but I don’t know if I want to hear any of it. I do hope that George was correct that Harry wasn’t serious about ending our courting. He seemed serious enough when he slammed the door to his house in my face the other night. Surely the Weasel, the Mudblood, and Blaise couldn’t have made that much of an impression the stupid idiot, could they?

When they arrived in front of the door that led to the room he’d vacated only a short time before, Draco grimaced. “The elves might be repairing the door to my bedroom when we enter. Pansy was a bit enthusiastic at trying to get my attention when she and George arrived.”

“Why would Parkinson have done something to your door, Draco?” Harry asked curiously. His large green eyes shone from behind his glasses.

“I might have spelled it locked with a few Dark spells my father taught me,” Draco responded carefully. When he received no response, he opened the sitting room’s door to find the tea service still placed where he and the others had left it. “Sit anywhere you like,” he said, waving his arms at the intimate seat arrangement before the large and empty fireplace.

Harry, instead of sitting, looked around. He appeared to be drinking in all of the details, from the rich, blue wallpaper with cream accents to the cream carpeting and the ash furniture throughout the entire room. “It’s not at all like I imagined.”

“And what did you think that my sitting room would look like?” Draco teased. The longer he remained in Harry’s presence, the more relaxed he grew. He still felt torn between snogging and thrashing Harry, but he felt that should he touch the other man, he could control the urge.

“Let me guess. Dark woods, green fabrics and silver accents; as if I still lived in the Slytherin dorms. Am I right?””

“Actually, I thought it would all be shades of grey and blue, like your family’s crest that is so proudly displayed in the foyer,” Harry said matter-of-factly before sitting down in the spot Draco had occupied earlier. The sight of the man he loved in his own part of the house—in his rooms no less—made Draco feel giddy, but he pushed the irrational feeling down as quickly as it shot up. “Zabini told me that you had nearly the entire Manor redecorated after you were made Lord Malfoy.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t want to live in a place that was synonymous with the Dark Lord’s headquarters,” Draco said, taking the seat next to Harry, but making sure to not touch him still. “It took weeks before Mother and I could agree on some of the more heavily used rooms. Eventually, there were a few that we just had either boarded up or repurposed. The dungeons have been filled in, thankfully. I don’t think that I could have stood going down there after everything was done and over with.”

Harry gave him a small smile. “You’re kinda cute when you babble, Draco.” When Harry turned to face him fully, Draco’s retort died on his tongue quickly. “As I said, I owe you an apology for how I acted the last time we talked. I knew that Ginny had set it up with Greengrass. I didn’t really think that you’d try to do something so hurtful like that to me. I think better of you than that.

“The problem…” Harry sighed heavily and closed his eyes as if he was trying to think about what he said before he said it. “The problem is this, Draco. You started this courting idea as a lark, right?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true. I was more enamoured of the idea of having you bend to my will than anything else.” Draco frowned as he thought about what he’d just said. “I can see how that would be an issue, but have I not proven how serious about being with you I am by now?”

“Serious, yes, but I don’t really know how you feel about me,” Harry said, his face doing an admirable impression of a tomato. “You’ve never said, aside from the fact that you find me attractive and that you respect me a bit.”

“Oh,” Draco said reflexively, trying to think back over their conversations and letters. “I haven’t. So, you mean that you’ve felt unsure about my feelings this entire time? Why did you not demand to know before now?”

Harry stared at him with those green eyes that had started this whole mess, and Draco felt his resolve to hold back melt. Slowly, he took Harry’s nearest hand and softly, lovingly traced its knuckles with his fingers as he begun to speak. “If you had demanded an answer from me before this issue popped up, I would have told you that I’ve never felt this way about anyone, regardless of how long we have actually known one another. You are the only person that I have wanted to get to know better. Pansy and I were betrothed as children, so there was no mystery with her. That meant that our relationship was extremely tame and safe. I loved her, but I realised that it was more fraternal than the way a lover feels about his beloved. No one else has even come close to what Pansy and I shared so briefly as children, and it is so vastly different from how I feel about you, you imbecile.”

Harry took a deep breath before he retorted. “It took me a few months after breaking the engagement with Ginny to realise that that’s how I see her as well—an annoying little sister than you can’t help but love. And no one else has even registered as a blip when it comes to romantic feelings. Until now.”

“You, perhaps, feel that way about Ginevra Weasley,” Draco drawled. “I assure you that I could happily pummel her after the little trick she and Daphne pulled.” He gave Harry a wry smile. “I thought by now that you would demand that I tell you already.”

Harry shook his head, making his dark fringe sweep across his golden-framed spectacles and calling attention to his lovely cheekbones. Draco stared as a man transfixed, feeling the itch to kiss Harry grow as he continued to sit and touch him as he was. “Draco, I’m not going to demand that you tell me, but it would be nice to know how you really felt about me,” Harry whispered.

“I love you, you emotional wreck,” Draco responded slowly. “I realised it perhaps during our argument after lunch that day, but it was when the door slammed shut in my face that it hit me. Do you think I could have actually begged you to reconsider if this was anything less?”

“No,” Harry breathed. “It was then that I thought that it might be that you loved me, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from distancing myself from you.”

“I’d never begged anyone for anything before. I only had to ask my father for something and it was mine. You’ve always managed to deny me, Harry.” Draco leaned in and placed a light, chaste kiss to Harry’s flushed cheek, breathing in Harry’s smell—still that wonderful combination of woods, dusk, and Harry that he’d come to love almost as much as the man it belonged to. “You’ve yet to apologise.”

“I’m sorry, Draco. Truly and desperately sorry,” Harry replied. “I should never have reacted like that and nothing I can say will excuse it. You deserve so much more than what I’ve given you.” Green eyes were turned up, swimming with contrition. “Can you ever forgive me?”

The corners of Draco’s mouth turned up in a fond smile while he kept eye contact with his Intended. “I suppose so, considering you never truly meant to end our courting.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked with an adorably puzzled expression.

Draco answered by lifting up Harry’s left hand and kissing it right above the platinum and emerald ring. “If you had, this ring would have all but fallen off of your finger, forcing you to return it, as it is a Malfoy heirloom.”

“So, this is our first real argument as a couple, right?” Harry asked. When Draco just looked at him, he clarified his statement. “Well, according to ‘Mione, every couple before they get married or bonded has at least one fight where the relationship nearly ends.”

“I think we could have done without this particular little mile marker,” Draco said. “Now, not to change the subject, but I was under the impression that you hated the Manor. I was beyond surprised when the wards alerted me to your arrival.”

“Zabini explained to me that you actually have to live here for most of the year. I figured if that was the case—and that if you were worth all the trouble, which I think you are—then I’d have to get used to this monstrosity eventually.”

“I will have to give Blaise and Pansy an excellent wedding gift at this rate.” Draco squeezed the hand he’d yet to release. “So, shall I show you around?”

“Maybe later,” Harry replied. “Merlin, Draco, I’m surprised you’ve forgiven me so easily. I was sure that you’d make me beg for forgiveness and swear to carry your first born myself.”

“Even magic hasn’t found a way around basic human physiology, Harry, but that is a very interesting thought. I would love to see you swollen with my child, showing everyone that you love me enough to do so.” He stopped speaking, his smile dying on his lips.

“What?” Harry asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t told me that you love me yet, I just realised.” He closed his eyes as he felt like he’d been punched in the gut by the revelation. “I just assumed, which is pretty much how we ended up in this mess in the first place.”

“I do, you know. I love you, Malfoy.” Harry leaned in and gave Draco a heart-achingly sweet kiss. “I should have said so when I told you that I didn’t think I could get rid of you. That’s why I never wanted to end our courting.”

“Well, it’s fortuitous for me that magic listens to your intent, not your words,” Draco said with a sweet smile. “Since we’re still talking about things, I would like to discuss the issue of progeny.”

“Progeny, huh?” Harry asked with his head tilted to the side. “You know, it’s a good thing I’ve gotten better at translating your unnecessary terms into more common, everyday words.”

“I don’t use them unless I have to because they are common, as you said. Now, shall we begin?”

“Draco, we both want them. We both, truthfully, need to have children. So, what is the issue?”

“Mother has found two very viable solutions, and I would like to share them with you. I understand that this is something that we won’t be tackling right away, since we are both extremely busy in our own ways, but they will be there when we need them.” He waited until he had Harry’s full attention. “The first is—”

“Draco, we don’t have to continue this conversation,” Harry interrupted suddenly. “It’s enough to know that you bothered to find out at all before we were bonded.”

The blond took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Harry, it is the fact that you shut down our previous attempt to have this same talk that led to your blow up. I would rather avoid that again, if you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s enough to know that we both want to have a family eventually that is important, right?”

“I suppose so,” Draco answered hesitantly. “I kept the research that Mother conducted. We can look it over when the time is right. You can even let Granger look it over to her heart’s content. I’m sure she’d enjoy that. However, that does leave us with another, rather large problem that we must talk about: the Manor.”

“I understand that you have to live here because of the magic that’s tied into your title as Lord Malfoy,” Harry said distastefully. “I have a compromise.”

“I’m listening.”

“My parents’ cottage in Godric’s Hollow is in extreme disrepair. It’s a veritable ruin, actually. Technically, I own the land the ruins stand on. I’ve talked to a magical architect in London about a possible rebuild there. There might be a few problems, considering it’s been turned into a historical site, not to mention all the magic still flying around the property. I’ll need a good solicitor to help me gain the permits to do anything there, but I’d like to rebuild the house I was born in.”

“And you are proposing that we live in your birth home for the majority of our time, as opposed to here at the Manor?”

“Not really,” Harry said tiredly. “What I’m saying is that we could live here during the week, and, on the weekends, we could stay at the cottage.”

Draco thought over the proposal. “And all holidays and birthdays would be held here? Mother might protest otherwise.”

“I’m sure that Molly could be convinced to let you host the celebrations where there’s more space for the grandchildren.” Harry flashed him a smile before rooting around in his robe pocket. “A-HA!” He pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment and handed it to Draco with a flourish. “I would have sent it over with Horus, but I was headed this way anyway, so I thought I’d spare him the trip between Wiltshire and London for no real reason. I’d rather avoid having the hawk you gave me irritated for something I could have easily handled.”

“What’s this?” Draco asked, looking at the scroll he held before turning back to a beaming Harry.

“That is the agreement contract of a Potions Master who is willing to take you on as an apprentice to finish up your Mastery. He was only too excited when I told him that you’d spent two years under Severus Snape.”

“And he didn’t care about it being me?”

“Master Kelvin said he didn’t care if you were a Malfoy, Death Eater or Voldemort himself, so long as you could brew. Since you’d spent two years as Snape’s apprentice, he’d take you on at any time you were willing to begin.”

“Well, that goes along with what I wanted to give you,” Draco said with a slightly shocked smile. He pulled out his own parchment and handed it over to Harry. “It’s an agreement with the same realtor that George and his twin used to purchase their shop. He’s agreed to allow you your choice of properties on Diagon Alley for your practice when you graduate.”

“Then I can pick one with a room big enough for your lab?” Harry asked, sounding shocked himself.

“Ah, yes, about that,” Draco said. He pulled out another piece of parchment. “This is my agreement with you to brew all of your potions exclusively until such a time that we both feel it is prudent to move on.”

“Then, are you saying that we’re okay again?”

“There is just one more thing that I would like to give you, but it is not conventional and it might be just a bit strange.” Harry blinked at Draco, completely puzzled. And with good reason, Draco thought as he brought out the small vial of his own blood on a chain.

“Is that—ugh—blood?”

“Yes, it is my own,” Draco said as he played with the clasp nervously. “There are many spells that could be used with just this small amount that could do so much damage to me, my mother, and everything belonging to the Malfoy line. I am giving it to you as a symbol of my love and trust in all that you are." He moved to place it around Harry’s neck, but the other man stopped him with a shaking hand.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Harry asked. “I mean, what if I’m attacked and the chain’s removed so someone could use your blood against us?”

“That’s what the ring is for,” Draco said as he successfully hung the chain so the pendant vial rested in the hollow of Harry’s throat. “Should anyone be stupid enough to try and attack you, the ring will protect you and alert me. Then, they would pay, most painfully.”

Harry shivered before looking into Draco’s eyes earnestly. “So, are we okay again?”

“Yes, we are,” Draco answered, kissing Harry on his cute, pert nose. “Now, we are going to discuss what Pansy and I have done to ruin Greengrass, and I would like for you to tell me what we are going to do about the Weaslette. Then, I am going to snog you senseless and take you on a tour of the Manor before dinner with Mother.”

TBC

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Wooing the Reluctant