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Building With Worn-Out Tools	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 54266 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Fourteen--Arranging His Life

Harry sat thoughtfully on his bed--well, the bed that Malfoy had given him--and stared at the ceiling. He had assumed so intensely that he would be leaving the Manor in a few days that he wondered what he should do with his time, now that he no longer had to spend it searching for a warded flat or trying to make do in a place Ginny might find him.
Well.
Lucius Malfoy�s appearance today had reminded him of one thing. There were other people out there, other lives. The divorce case wouldn�t last forever. Malfoy would go back to his life when it was done, tending to his mother, fighting or bribing his father (if he lived), and doubtless winning cases for other clients. Harry hoped he would still have his Galleons for company.
But what else would he do? What was there to do? Spending most of his time at home alone palled next to spending time at home with Ginny, and he might not be as welcome in Ron and Hermione�s home after this, if the trial turned even more bitter.
He had to have a life for himself. He saw that now. It was urgent. What wasn�t urgent was that he have a life exactly like the one other people wanted him to have. He would, and could, arrange things to his own satisfaction. He wouldn�t become an Auror or Quidditch player the way Ginny had wanted (fun though it would have been in one way to spite her). He wouldn�t enter into politics at the Ministry, the way Hermione had often encouraged him.
He didn�t plan to give up all his friends, either. If Ron and Mr. Weasley could still tolerate his presence, he had at least them. Hermione had shown more support than anyone else so far.
Except Malfoy.

Harry rolled his eyes. He knew where Malfoy�s �support� came from. Part of it was cold and golden and weighed exactly as much as that thousand Galleons Harry had deposited into his vault. The other part was his attraction to Harry�s magic, and that would surely lessen the moment Harry moved out of his house, even if it didn�t fade before the case was over.

Granted, he might have the life debt now, but--
Harry shrugged his shoulders impatiently. He wouldn�t build his future on faith and trust in Malfoy. He admired the other man�s confidence and control in the courtroom, but, as Malfoy himself had said, he argued for whoever paid him. If Harry hadn�t got to him first, he could just as easily have been Ginny�s Arguer, and he would have attacked Harry himself as pitilessly as he had done to Ginny.
So. He would have a few friends when this was done, money, and free time.
What did he want to do?
Thoughtfully, he propped himself up on his elbows and stared at the pile of law books on his table. He�d picked his way through them slowly, concentrating and forcing the words to make sense by sheer strength of will the way he�d used to do with Potions recipes. It had often occurred to him that the legal terms and convoluted wording could be translated easily into ordinary English.
Could I do that? And perhaps offer to translate legal documents for wizards who might be confused and can�t afford a solicitor?

His interest quickened. It was an odd thing for him to do, in that he doubted he could have seen himself doing it two weeks ago, but his life had changed a lot in two weeks. And it was an intellectual interest of the kind that Malfoy had recommended, so difficult for Harry that he had to devote all his time to it. His magic didn�t have extreme emotions to react to, since his academic interest was of a far different kind than grief or rage.
Harry nodded, and sat up. It would do until he hit upon a better idea. So he would spend part of the afternoon studying.
The rest would be spent writing letters. He had to know where he stood with some of his friends. Whether he still had the right to call them by that name, for instance.
He called for Heeky, asked for parchment, and started writing.

*

Draco came down to breakfast rather annoyed. Potter hadn�t bothered to appear at dinner at all last night. Draco knew he�d eaten because he�d consulted the house-elves, but it was all rather impolite and irregular. Even if it had given Draco time to spend with Narcissa and listen to her light, clear voice discussing many small things of importance and sane interest, he doubted Potter had stayed away for that reason.
He stopped short when he found Potter at the table already. An owl sat on his arm, and it wasn�t Hedwig, the snowy owl he�d brought with him. Draco carefully walked around the table, waiting until the moment when his guest looked at him.
Potter never did. He studied the letter he�d taken from the owl�s leg instead, and his expression was a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Draco experienced an odd stab of jealousy. He could wish he had inspired such an expression on Potter�s face, simply because it often seemed as though the other man never thought of him at all when they weren�t in the courtroom.
�Interesting news?� He couldn�t keep the snide tone out of his voice as he sat down.
Potter looked up, blinking. Then he smiled. Draco picked irritably at the poached eggs that had appeared in front of him, and wished he weren�t so affected by the git�s expression.
�Yes,� the git said. �That�s the word for it. Interesting.� He made a motion towards the letter he held, sending the owl fluttering in search of a safer perch, but he showed no sign of actually letting Draco read it. �Ron writes that he might forgive me if his mother can stop fussing at him about the damage the stress is causing Ginny�s baby.� Carefully, he laid the letter aside. �I haven�t decided how I�ll respond to him yet. I simply wrote to him to ask if he�d remain my friend when the case was done.�
�Ah.� Draco ate a few bites before he let himself succumb to his curiosity. �And what do you see yourself doing when this is done?�
Potter grinned at him. �I�m glad you asked. Those law books I�ve looked at are confusing. I can make them out, but only with concentrated study. I�ve started to think about poor wizards who might need a solicitor now but don�t have the money or the time to find one. I could at least tell them what complicated legal documents mean, once I know the language. I wouldn�t file or change them, just read them.� He made a large, curving motion with one hand; for the life of him, Draco couldn�t figure out what it was meant to be. �It�ll combine the study I�ve done with the project that you told me I should do, the project that would benefit other wizards.�

Draco stared at him for a moment. Then he said, �And you�d become a sort of--poor wizard�s solicitor for no other reason than because it sounds like a good idea now?�
Potter snorted and leaned back, cracking his knuckles. He must have eaten already, since that movement revealed an empty plate in front of him. �Exactly what else would I do? I�ve already told you how few things I�m good at, and I have to do something. I was content in Ginny�s company, and with Ron and Hermione to visit, but I don�t have her anymore--� Draco watched carefully, but no true shadow of regret appeared in his eyes or voice �--and I might not be welcome at Ron and Hermione�s for some time. This will keep me from going mad with loneliness or boredom.�
�You could wait,� Draco pointed out in exasperation. �Make up your mind on a career slowly. It�s not as though you�ll starve.�
Potter shrugged. �It�s the activity that�s important, not the money.� He brightened. �I might even offer my services for free.�
Draco bit his tongue to keep himself from shrieking in exasperation. Sometimes he thought a maleficent god had designed Potter just to torment him. When he had control of his voice, he said, �I can provide the company you�ll need, and surely you can discover a career that suits you better in the library. You�ll have all the time you need to read there. Believe me,� he added, with a look from under his eyelashes that surely not even a blind Augurey could have missed, �I�m more than willing to offer you everything you need.�
Of all possible expressions, he was not prepared to see Potter�s face assume one of pity.
Potter leaned forwards and spoke quietly and earnestly, as if Draco were an ill patient at St. Mungo�s whom sharp words would put out of temper. �Listen, Malfoy. I�m staying here because the wards help me in the case, and you do need protection if your father appears again. But, at the same time, I feel uneasy about it. It�s taking advantage of you, after all.� He ended that strange speech with an equally strange intent look, as if he assumed Draco would know what he was talking about perfectly well.
Draco was not in the mood to work a puzzle, given that Potter had decided to be a puzzle all by himself. �Explain yourself right now, Potter.�
�I know that you�re only attracted to me because of my magic,� Potter said softly. �It was what you said about wizards and witches being drawn to people with strong magic that gave me the clue. If the ones I spoke to in Diagon Alley were impressed by me, why wouldn�t you be? Only with you it takes the form of physical attraction, for some reason.� He winced a little, as though speaking the words aloud was distasteful to him. �So staying here winds you deeper in the spell, and also is somewhat akin to Legilimency without your permission, at the very least. I suppose your need of me right now is intense enough that I have to stay here, but--�
Draco had heard enough.
He slammed his hands down on the table in front of him hard enough to make every plate and cup in sight jump. Potter shut his mouth and looked at him with wide eyes, the more so when Draco leaped out of his seat and strode around the table towards him. When Draco got near him, he rose to his feet and edged back a little, uneasily, his mouth opening slightly.

�No,� Draco said, with enough coldness in his tone that Potter shut his jaw, though a spark of rebellion blazed in his eyes. �No. You will listen for once in your fucking life, Potter.�
He grabbed the front of Potter�s shirt and swung him around so that the backs of his thighs pressed against the table. Then he leaned down and kissed Potter the way he�d wanted to since the end of the battle with Lucius yesterday.
The kiss went deep, and was hard enough that their teeth pressed against each other�s and their lips split and a slight torrent of blood poured into Draco�s mouth. He didn�t care. In fact, he leaned further forwards, almost forcing Potter flat, never breaking the kiss.
He wanted Potter to understand every bit of his anger, his determination, his lust, his admiration, and his gratitude.
When he pulled back, licking his lips, he whispered the truth into Potter�s ear, while pressing him flat so hard and leaning so close that Potter couldn�t get the leverage to throw him off-- though he tried anyway. Potter should have understood that kiss, but Draco would put it into words just so he couldn�t miss it. Fuck subtlety, fuck an �innocent� chase; Potter would obviously close his eyes, stick his fingers in his ears, and ignore all the evidence of Draco�s want for him as hard as he could until it hammered on his brain.
�I want you. It�s not the magic. I�ve been under the influence of magic like that before, when I was near the Dark Lord, and I recognize the sensation. Then, I felt detached from myself and hardly able to remember what I�d done afterwards. With you, I�m awake and alive, and I know what I want. And that�s you.� Just to add another level of directness that a Gryffindor ought to appreciate to this, he snaked his hand down between Potter�s legs and gripped his cock. It was flaccid, but Draco stroked it twice, holding the startled and half-terrified green gaze all the while. �Part of it may be your power. Or that may make it more intense.
�Want to know something interesting, Potter?
�I don�t care.

�You saved my life yesterday. You�ve always been the one person who can make me most irritated. Not angry, no, but my anger is an emotion that consumes me and then passes. Irritation doesn�t go away. It forever hangs about at the periphery of my vision waiting to be noticed. And I notice you to the point of distraction.
�Don�t you dare talk about your life after this case without me in it, Harry, because as far as I�m concerned the real part of our lives together hasn�t even begun.�
He deposited one more kiss on his mouth, noting absently that it hurt, and then released Potter�s shoulders and turned and walked out of the room. He would have Seeky send him the remains of his breakfast.
He preferred not to hear the idiotic objections that Potter would surely make if he remained.

*
Harry raised a hand to his lips and winced. Malfoy�s teeth cut deep when he wanted them to.
Carefully, he turned around and sat down at the table again, absently rearranging the spilled sugar and a silver saltcellar that had twirled halfway down the cloth from its original position and now lay on its side. He ran his tongue over his lips and tried to assess the damage, without thinking about what had caused it.
Impossible, of course.
Harry uttered a curse and buried his head in shaky hands.
It seemed he�d warped Malfoy�s mind to the point that he couldn�t even trust his own reactions and memories.
I mean, what else would make Malfoy want me? There�s obvious reasons for me to want him. Harry had avoided thinking about his own responses to Malfoy as much as possible, but it was preferable to thinking about what had just happened. He�s cool, confident, practiced in the courtroom, fighting for me right now, compassionate about his mother, in trouble from his father, and handsome enough. But there is absolutely no reason for him to turn the other way and want me. No one wants someone who irritates the shit out of them.

He paused for a moment as he thought of the way Ron and Hermione had carried on before they got married, but then shook his head. Ron and Hermione didn�t want to hurt each other. They irritated each other, but they had something stronger than irritation underneath, a bond that carried them back together.
He and Malfoy had wanted to hurt each other in Hogwarts. And Malfoy had certainly kissed like he wanted to hurt him.
With a sigh, Harry decided he had another task now: discovering what had become of Lucius Malfoy as soon as possible. If he could stop Draco�s father, he stopped Draco�s most pressing problem, and then he could leave the Manor, and Draco would probably come back to himself in a little while.
He felt sick at the idea that he�d changed someone else�s personality so drastically like that, but it was much less terrifying than some other possibilities.
That Malfoy was at all serious, for instance.
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