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Harry Potter and the Prince of Ice	By : Neverwood Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6265 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Anal, Angst, Fingering, H/C, HJ, M/M, Oral, Rim, Solo, Spank. I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. I do not recieve money for this in any way. For entertainment purposes only.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Author's Note: I don't have much to say this week, other than to thank new and returning readers for showing their support. It's truly amazing, and it is very appreciated.

Chapter 13: Not So Different

Harry came home feeling about ten stone lighter. He had known going to see Luna would be good for him, and it was. She had a way of putting things into perspective, of making him see the molehill instead of the mountain. Come to think of it, Pansy and Luna had that in common. He wondered if they'd had the chance to meet at the truce party, but tucked it away for later thought as he came through the front door.

“Draco?” Harry called out.

“In here.”

Harry followed the direction the voice had come from, finding Draco in the library. The memories of their last encounter in this room made his insides do a tumble, but he made an effort to keep his composure.

“How was your date?”

Harry tilted his head. Did...did Draco really sound jealous? Harry felt a part of him that he identified as wholly Slytherin take notice and perk up.

“It was good to see Luna again.” Harry said, evading the unspoken question. “I haven't seen her since the relief effort for the war. It was nice to chat, catch up.”

Which they had finally gotten around to, after Harry had kicked himself in the arse and looked past his own issues. Luna had simply laughed, pointing out that he had always had a tendency to get lost in his own head. After that, they had easily slipped into small talk.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to mention. Or rather, ask. Mention and ask.”

Draco raised an eyebrow before leaning forward with a smirk that made Harry's insides flip around again. “Oh, believe me, Harry. You have my undivided attention.”

Harry tried to ignore the blatant flirting, though it was a challenge. The way Draco's eyes were sparkling was very distracting...

“Um.” Harry said, clearing his throat as he regained his focus. “Luna is going to be starting a new sub-division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“Let me guess. Imaginary Beasts and Where to Find Them?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Points for the reference, but no. The Research and Conservation Department. She, and anyone she brings with her, will be finding new information about magical creatures, discovering new ones, and finding better solutions on how to handle them.”

Draco seemed both disturbed and impressed. “How'd she get that past Dingle Bells?”

Harry smiled at the name, but chose not to comment. “She has been sending many, many letters to his secretary. Requesting appointments, requesting official meetings, and just generally making a nuisance of herself. He finally sent her a letter, which was basically a blanket approval. So now he has to let it pass, or else he'll be in contempt.”

Draco definitely looked impressed. “Hmm. I may need to acquaint myself with your friends, Harry.”

Harry smiled. “Good. You'll get a chance when you accompany me to the office party celebrating her department's debut.”

Draco raised an eyebrow again. “When?”

Harry blushed, despite trying very hard not to. “If.”

Draco nodded. “That's better. I don't want to be taken for granted. And yes, I will go as your date, since you asked so adorably.”

Harry spluttered. “It's not a-”

“Make sure to go shopping before then.” Draco said, speaking over Harry with infuriating ease. “You wore your only suitable robes at the 'coronation,' and it's not okay to wear the same outfit to two consecutive functions. Go to Twilfitt and Tatting's, their seamstress is from France. Lovely woman, not a single stitch out of place. Love to stay and chat, but I have something to do. Ta!”

Harry watched Draco rush out of the room. He rubbed the back of his neck in pleased embarrassment.

He had a date with Draco.

…

Harry didn't seek Draco out again that day. He figured that with everything that had happened lately, they needed a little space to breathe. Instead, he retreated into his office. He pinned up the two letters he had received that morning, looking intently at both from his place a few feet away. He was leaned back in his chair, spinning his wand almost carelessly between his fingers. The more he read the letters, the more he felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff. It was the same feeling he had gotten whenever he had been on the verge of discovering one of Voldemort's plots, though he usually didn't know the full extent of it until much later. Still, this feeling had never been wrong before. He dreaded what that meant for him, what it meant for his future.

Could he go meet this Lippershey person? How could he, knowing that he would be throwing himself back into the fray? Voldemort may be dead, but Harry was not stupid enough to think that his influence had been extinguished. He still had loyal followers out there, although luckily most of them had surrendered to the fact that Voldemort was gone, if not to the Aurors. Harry spun his wand faster. Could Lippershey be a Riddle groupie? Was that why Dingleberry was warning him against the meeting? Harry admitted that, from a logical standpoint, it made sense. But sense when had Gryffindors been guided by logic when there was a perfectly good gut feeling to go by? And his gut told him that the answer, as it so often was, was more complicated than that. He also knew that he would not get answers unless he went and saw this person.

Harry turned his chair away from the letters, needing a different perspective. He was faced with a wall of pictures. Dozens of different people in different moments in time, laughing and smiling. All the people he knew and loved, some here and some gone. His motivation for getting up in the morning, his reason for being. How could he start another adventure now, when so many of them had finally found a sort of peace? How could he put his life, his friends' lives, in danger when they had already been through so much, lost so much? And could he honestly think, that after everything he had been through, that his luck wouldn't eventually run out? What then?

A knock on the door startled him. He jumped up, the wand that had been idly twirling now standing at the ready. He made his way to the door, ready to cast a curse.

It was Draco, who quickly went from relaxed to very worried. He glanced between Harry's face and the wand currently pointed at him. “Either do something with it or put it away.”

Harry quickly tucked it into the back of his jeans. “Sorry. Did you need something?”

Draco leaned against the doorjamb. “You've been sequestered in this room for twelve hours. I came to see if you needed mouth-to-mouth.”

Harry gestured to his obviously healthy person. “I'm fine. Just distracted.”

Draco's examination of him was much more thorough than Harry thought was necessary, and he felt as if he had somehow been touched by Draco everywhere his eyes lingered. When they locked eyes again, it felt as though there was an invisible fire dancing between them.

“So that's a no to the mouth-to-mouth, then?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. So, you hungry?”

Draco wasn't listening, peering past Harry's shoulder. “What's in there?”

Harry looked over his shoulder, into his little den. He quickly grabbed the two letters before stepping out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him and silently spelling it shut. Draco looked a little hurt, but mostly resigned.

“Off limits. Got it.”

Harry showed him what he was holding. “I was...debating.”

Draco pursed his lips. “I see.”

Harry began walking, Draco falling into step behind him. “The way I see it, I have two options. I can go and see this Lippershey person, and see what he wants. Which could send me right back into danger, as well as those I care about. Or I can ignore it, and let everyone have some well-deserved peace and quiet.”

Draco said nothing as they made their way to the library, but spoke up once they had sat down. “Potter, are you any good at chess?”

Harry remembered what Luna had said, about telling Draco why he was testy about his surname. He grabbed Draco's hand, ensuring he had his attention, before launching into an explanation.

“The only people who have ever called me Potter are the Dursleys, you, some Hogwarts students, Snape, the Death Eaters, and Voldemort. The Dursleys did not treat me well the entire time that I was with them, you made my life a living hell, the other students would constantly try to make my life even harder than it already was, Snape went out of his way to show everyone how much he hated me and everything I stood for, the Death Eaters spent all their time trying to truss me up like a pig to deliver to Voldemort, and Voldemort himself spent my entire life trying to figure out how to kill me before finally succeeding. Will you please call me Harry?”

Draco's eyes got wider and wider as the explanation went on. He gave a weak nod, and Harry was surprised at how powerful his sigh of relief was.

“Thank you.” He said softly. “And to answer your question, I'm shite at chess. If you want a chess expert, ask Ron. He beat a life-sized board first year.”

Draco's eyes were full of questions, but he seemed to decide that now wasn't the time. “Right. So, the reason I asked was because you don't seem to see very many moves ahead.”

Harry's confusion showed in his face. “What?”

Draco was recovering from his surprise at Harry's earlier outburst, though slower than usual. “Right now, you see two possibilities. You go, and everything falls apart. You don't go, and everything stays the way it is. However, there are other options. Let's say Lippershey has information you need, as he seems to imply. You don't go, you don't get the information. Let's say, for laughs, that he is going to tell you about a troll invasion. Just because you don't know the trolls are coming, doesn't mean that it won't happen. The invasion happens anyway, but because you didn't warn anyone, we are completely unprepared. The trolls take over, I get their bogies on my shirt, it's a disaster. Let's say you go, you get the information. There's still two further options: we win, or we lose.”

Harry put his head in his hands. “So whether or not the wizarding world is going to survive is yet again up to me.”

Draco went silent. Harry felt the change in the atmosphere, and he raised his head and looked at him. But in Draco's place was the Ice Prince of Slytherin.

“Harry James Potter.” The Ice Prince said, his tone low and dangerous. “Do you have any idea how many people have wanted to have one single important decision in their life be up to them? Do you have any clue how many people I know that would kill to be in your position? All my life, I have been a part of pureblood society. Do you know how many times I've seen women ripped out of the arms of their lovers to be delivered to a 'better suitor' that would mistreat them for the rest of their lives? How many people I saw pursue jobs and careers that slowly sucked out their souls, powerless to stop it from happening? Can you possibly imagine how many times I heard somebody talk about how envious they are of you, how they would give anything to at least be able to have some control over their future? You hold the fate of our world in your hands, which we don't even know for sure is true yet, and you have the absolute gall to sit there and say that you are the one who is to be pitied? Shame on you, Harry Potter. Shame. On. You.”

Harry said nothing throughout the whole speech. It seemed today was a day for revelations. He muddled over what Draco said, and for the first time saw past the contempt to the truth that the words held.

“You're right.” Harry said. It was so quiet, he wasn't sure Draco could hear it. “You're absolutely right. I do have more power than most, and I have taken that for granted. But you don't know what it's like. You don't have people coming up to you on the streets, thanking you for dying for them. As if my death were something good, something that should have happened, rather than a tragedy that should've been avoided. You haven't gotten letters from grieving mothers and fathers, saying that if you had only been smarter, quicker, stronger, then their child would have lived. You don't have people wanting you to sign this, join that group, support this cause. 'You're the Boy Who Lived, the paragon of good, of course you want to help others.' You know why I looked forward to our fights?” Harry leaned forward, still talking slowly but sincerely. Draco and he had sustained unbroken eye contact since they entered the room, and Harry could see the silhouettes of the emotions swirling behind the icy exterior. “Because you didn't want a Savior. You didn't want the Boy Who Lived. You didn't idolize me, or demonize me. Not like that. You saw me for what I really was, what I really am. I'm selfish. I'm impulsive. I say the wrong things, I do the wrong things. I let other people tell me what I am, what I need to do, and then I just do it. I don't think about what's going to happen later. I'm brave, I'm reckless, I'm not particularly bright. I'm just Harry.”

Draco took a deep breath before answering. “Your problem isn't being too this, or not enough that. Your problem is that you're never yourself.”

Harry blinked a couple of times. “Excuse me?”

“You said it yourself.” Draco said, his voice gentle. “The Boy Who Lived, the War Hero, the Savior of the Wizarding World. The Golden Boy, trapped inside his gilded cage. I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer without thinking. When was the last time you were just Harry?”

Harry tried to answer without thinking, but came up blank. “I don't know. I...I'm not sure I ever have.”

Draco nodded. “I thought so. You're not a hero, or a villain. You're just a man who didn't get the full, excruciating experience of finding yourself when you're a teenager. A wounded soldier caught up in a war he didn't sign up for, in a fight he doesn't even understand.”

Harry suddenly gave him a sad smile. “Seems we have a lot in common.”

Draco gave a short chuckle. “I guess so. So, the question remains. What are you going to do, Harry?”

Harry took several long moments to answer. Finally, he looked at Draco again. Draco didn't think he'd ever seen Harry look so...confident? Driven? Motivated?

“I, for one, have had too much experience with troll bogies already.”

As they left the library, coming up with different strategies, Draco finally came up with only word that could begin to describe Harry's current state.

Fiery. Harry was fiery.
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- 14
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Harry Potter and the Prince of Ice