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Here But For the Grace of Merlin	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. We make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Warnings: Angst, OOC, DH spoilers (minus Epilogue), language, violence, self-harm, drinking, slash, smut, non-con, BDSM

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros and some other stupid companies. I make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Author’s Notes: Thanks go to my reviewers! You guys rock! Special thanks to Jamie, Jokes, and L – I love you all! And ForeverNocturnal, your conversations with me keep me amused and focused. Credit goes to her for naming Draco’s owl! Thanks so much!

Chapter Fourteen – A Puzzlement

By the time supper was served, Harry still hadn’t woken up. Narcissa looked over at her son, who appeared to be containing his temper due to the lack of a third at their table. She knew it wouldn’t be too long before the black-haired young man arrived. Crimmy, who Draco had assigned to attend their guest during his stay, was a good elf, and even if Kreacher attempted to get in her way, she wouldn’t fail her Master’s direct orders. Although, a much needed distraction was in order before Draco jumped up from the table.

“Have you contacted St. Mungo’s about Father’s condition, my darling?” she asked coolly.

“Yes, Mother,” he answered through clenched teeth. She really wished he wouldn’t do that. He had such beautiful teeth, and he was obviously determined to ruin them.

“And?”

“That idiot, Mindwillow, said Father could come home at any time before I brought Potter, Harry, here, but now he says it would be useless for him to leave the ‘stable environment of St. Mungo’s’ before we have Weasley ready to remove the miscast Bedazzling Hex.”

“Hm,” Narcissa replied noncommittally. “After supper, I shall contact Jacobi and have him go to the hospital and check on Lucius. I don’t trust that Healer.”

“Nor do I, Mother, but we can’t just leave Harry here alone either.”

“I have no intention of leaving Harry alone at the Manor. That would be disastrous.” Narcissa sighed dramatically, as if completely put upon. “No, Draco, I will go and stay with your father until Harry has ironed out all of the details of the arrangement with Weasley, and you will stay here to help him.” A slight cough from the doorway brought Narcissa’s attention to Harry, who appeared to be hopeful and embarrassed. “Harry, darling, how good of you to join us.”

“The elf Draco assigned got into another fight with Kreacher over who was going to wake me up, which progressed into an argument over who was going to pick out my dinner robes while I showered, and moved over to who was going to help me dress and escort me to dinner,” the dark-haired teen said in one breath, taking the seat opposite her son on her left. “You’ve got to do something about it, Draco. I’m going to kill them both if you don’t!” Narcissa, amused at the slight domestic issue, looked at her son and saw he wasn’t bothering to hide his own enjoyment over Harry’s predicament. “It’s not bloody funny!”

“Language, Harry,” she chided sweetly.

“Yes, Potter, one does not curse in front of ladies,” Draco added with a smirk.

“Oh, if I’d know that, Malfoy, I never would have used such words around you,” Harry shot back quickly.

“Ahem, gentlemen, no squabbling over the dinner table,” she said before they could start one of their infamous arguments. It was so difficult to get blood out of Irish lace. “Now, Draco, as the Lord of the Manor, you know it is your duty to settle any problems with the servants. As Harry is living here for the time being, Kreacher must be willing to answer to you, just as you must be willing to order him to his duties.”

“I’m aware of that, Mother. However, the barmy thing belongs to Harry, doesn’t he?” Draco asked petulantly.

“Are you, or are you not, Lord of this Manor?” she asked, receiving a curt nod in reply. “Then behave like it.” She turned to the other teen. “Do you care whether Draco tells Kreacher what to do?”

“Not particularly,” Harry answered. “So long as he doesn’t tell him to kill me in my sleep, I don't care what he tells that demented thing.”

“I doubt that that would happen, Harry,” Narcissa said, feeling almost giddy with reassurance. “Now, Draco, handle this matter immediately. Tizzy and the other elves will not serve dinner until this is cleared up.”

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

Dinner proceeded well after Draco got the elves into working order. Kreacher was to limit himself to cleaning Harry’s rooms and clothes, while Crimmy would do any fetching or escorting needed. Harry made him tack on the proviso that Kreacher would be in the kitchens if he wasn’t cleaning. He’d gladly given in, as he didn’t trust the elf anywhere in the Manor on his own. When it was over, his mother had left to talk to Healer Jacobi, and then to stay with his father at St. Mungo’s.

Draco escorted Harry to the family drawing room, far away from the room where he’d lied to his aunt and father about Harry’s identity the year before. He wanted to write to Granger, making sure the girl would return the next day, and Harry said something about playing a game of Wizard’s chess when he was done. After Harry was set to preparing the board, Draco pulled out a sheet of thick, creamy parchment, and penned a quick note to his former year mate.

Granger, I apologize if anything happened this afternoon that alarmed you. I’m aware that you are taking a great amount of your time to assist with Harry, and I appreciate all the help I can get. Mother also extends an apology. We should have known you would be uncomfortable back in the Manor, and that any mention of the Unforgivables would upset you. Harry is quite anxious to see you again, since he was unable to say goodbye before you left. Please reply as to whether you are coming tomorrow or not.

Sincerely,

Draco A. Malfoy

He carefully looked over the note and nodded to himself. ‘Polite, pleasing, charming… Mother would be proud. I’m finally using my manners on those that Father saw as beneath us.’ He looked over at the other young man, who appeared to be staring into the fire. “Dibby,” he called out.

“Yes, Master Draco, you is calling Dibby,” the house-elf said as she appeared before him.

“Ah, yes, Dibby, please attach this note to Illyrius and have him deliver it to a Miss Hermione Granger.”

“Yes, Master Draco,” Dibby replied before Disapparating away.

“I’m surprised we haven’t heard from Bill again,” Harry said, causing Draco to look back at him. The golden tan skin of the former Gryffindor took on a reddish hue from the glow of the fire, while the light was flickering off the lenses of his glasses.

“Mmm,” Draco answered noncommittally before sitting down opposite his companion before the chess board. “Perhaps he and his wife are discussing the issue.”

“Maybe.” Harry looked up and Draco could see conflicting emotions flashing across the darkened green eyes before they closed. “You want white or shall I take it?”

“I’ll give you the advantage this time, Harry,” he teased. “It would be an easy win, otherwise.”

“It won’t be that hard, Draco. I’m not very good at this game, but I do like to play.”

“Mmm,” the blond repeated. ‘I wonder if I can use this opportunity to ask him more personal questions. He has yet to lose his temper with me, and I’d rather not have it occur when we are completely alone, but I also can’t be sure that I will have the opportunity to do so for a while.’ He watched while his opponent moved his king’s pawn two spaces forward and moved the pawn before his queen-side knight ahead one space. “Harry, may I ask you about something personal?”

“I guess.”

“Why did you and the Wea- Ginevra break up?” He looked up to see a dark expression cross Harry’s face before the other man managed to shut it down completely. “If you don’t wish to answer, I understand.”

“No, I guess… It’s not that big of a deal,” Harry stalled. “After the end of sixth year, you know, Dumbledore’s funeral,” Draco flinched at the mention of the deceased Headmaster, “I knew I was going to have to go after Voldemort. Ron and Hermione had already agreed to come with me, but Ginny… Well, she was younger and didn’t know what we were going to do, ultimately. She’d already been possessed by Tom Riddle in our second year, and I didn’t want to risk her safety. I already felt guilty about my best friends coming; I couldn’t let Ron’s little sister get hurt. So, I broke up with her. I told her it was for her own safety, and she reluctantly agreed.

“I guess I left it a little open-ended, and after the Final Battle, everyone assumed that we’d get back together.” The dark-haired man shook his head sadly. “I- I was too upset over all the deaths – Remus, Fred, Colin, Tonks… It was just too much. Even your psychotic aunt met her end that day.”

“Trust me when I say that no one in this house is truly upset that my aunt was killed by Molly Weasley.” Draco sighed as he looked at his companion. “My mother told me months ago that she’d done all the mourning for Bellatrix she could when she first went to Azkaban. She hadn’t been in her right mind after she took the Dark Mark.”

Harry frowned momentarily. “Yeah, well, after the battle was over, I did see you with your parents in the Great Hall. A part of me was happy to see that you’d all made it out safely. Your mother saved my life in the Forbidden Forest, even if it was for your sake, and I was immensely grateful for that. It’s part of the reason why I spoke up for your family during your trial.”

“Since we’re talking about that, I have something I’d like to discuss once we’re finished with this particular topic,” Draco replied casually, trying to hide the way his fists were clenched at his sides. He kept his face smooth and expressionless as Harry tried to read him and nearly sighed in relief when the Gryffindor shrugged and looked down at the chessboard before moving his king-side knight to take out one of his pawns, making the poor piece shatter with the force of the hit. “Please continue your story.”

“Yeah, well, I stayed at the Burrow after McGonagall closed Hogwarts for repairs,” Harry said quietly. “Hermione was there too, and at first, it was so quiet, so strange. There were funerals to attend and then the trials. Ron got angrier and angrier with every trial I attended. He said I didn’t care about his family and that I was being selfish.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It was after speaking at your trial that it got bad.”

“I remember you and Weasley there,” Draco said tightly. “He glared at me like I was dirt under his shoes.”

“Yeah, by then, he pretty much thought you and the rest of the Slytherin families were pure evil, regardless of what side they were on.”

“I’m not surprised.” Draco sighed. Weasley was utterly predictable in his notions about those that weren’t like his family. “What happened next?”

“We hadn’t even made it fully through the Floo before Ron turned on me, screaming about not caring for his family. I just stared at him. Hermione tried to mediate, but he ignored her, continuing to scream, rant, and rave at me. Then, Gin and Molly came into the kitchen, trying to figure out what was happening.” Harry ran a hand through his thick locks a few times, almost as if he wanted to pull them out. “I refused to answer and told Molly that I was going to sleep in Charlie’s room that night. Ron tried to follow me up, but I think George had shown up and stopped him.

“I moved my stuff to Charlie’s room and stayed there for the rest of the day. I knew Hermione was going to Australia the next day, and I couldn’t stay there anymore. Ron wasn’t the only problem. When I wasn’t being paraded around as a walking witness for every trial, Ginny was clinging to me at the Burrow, giving dirty looks to Luna, Hermione, and even Fleur.” He gave a weak laugh. “Molly was hinting at another wedding in the family with really pointed looks in my direction.” Again, Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. “I’m not stupid. I knew what was going on. So, when Hermione left, I packed up all my things and went back to Grimmauld Place with Kreacher. When I got there, I closed off the Floo and took out the list of Black properties that I now owned. Kreacher and I checked them all out, and picked this small house near Cornwall. It was really a cottage, but it was far from the Weasleys and no one knew about it but me, the goblins at Gringotts, and possibly your mum. It was perfect.

“Kreacher and I packed up all we could from Grimmauld to make Breaker Cottage hospitable, and it was from there that I wrote the letter to Ginny, told her I wasn’t ready to date, let alone marry, anyone and that she’d be better off just going back to Dean, who was still mad about her.” He gave Draco a pained look. “I thought that that would be easier than telling her I saw her as a sister and the thought of kissing her made me want to sick up.”

“Yes, not exactly what anyone wants to hear, I expect,” Draco replied. “Although, that is how I got Pansy to stop throwing herself at me.” Harry’s eyes widened and Draco couldn’t help but give a small, smug smile. “I told you. She was never going to be my bride, Harry. And no matter who it was, it was never going to be a marriage of affection. Not in the strictest sense, of course.”

“What’s that mean?”

‘He’s been honest with me, but I don’t know how honest I can be with him about this situation,’ Draco thought carefully. The green eyes, that had expressed so many emotions since their meeting at St. Mungo’s for the first time in months, now gazed back at him earnestly and he sighed, knowing he was going to give in. “I prefer the company in my bed to be male, Potter. Surely you understand my meaning.”

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

Harry drew in a ragged breath at the blond’s admission. Part of him had wondered, hoped, but he hadn’t dared put too much thought into Draco’s sexual orientation. He’d barely had time to figure his own out, and here he was considering what the other teen looked like under his robes after a few words. It was almost too good to be true.

“You may want to close your mouth, Harry,” Draco said, with a yet another smug smile. “You look like an even bigger idiot than normal.”

Harry automatically snapped his mouth shut, feeling a blush creep across his neck and cheeks. “You- You’re-”

“The correct term is homosexual, I believe.” One blond eyebrow quirked and Harry was forced to look away. “I do hope that me giving you that information will not come back to haunt me.”

“What? Do you expect me to run to the Prophet and run a full page ad?” Harry snapped. “Yeah, let me get right on that. It’ll be front page news.”

He was surprised when the blond began to laugh, a bright, vicious thing, sounding just like he had been back at school when on the attack. “I doubt you would do that, as it would put you face-to-face with your least favourite people: reporters.”

“Exactly, and besides, it’s not anyone else’s business who you sleep with,” Harry muttered.

“I agree, but seeing as how we are currently living together, and my mother already knows my preferences, it would be foolish to try to keep the information from you.” Something about the way he said that had Harry searching his angular face, but it was so foreign, he was having trouble understanding what he saw there. “Is there anything else that happened with the Weasleys that would be beneficial to know?”

“Well, Percy came back to his family during the Final Battle. He actually killed Thicknese, I think.”

“Hm, well, that’s one less incompetent fool in the Ministry at least. Do you know what his standing is now that his father is the Deputy Minister?”

“I think he’s been taken back into the fold completely,” Harry answered, face scrunched up in thought. “Bill’s working for Gringotts, of course. I think Ron was going to become an Auror once he got all his N.E.W.T.s, even though he was told he could go right into an accelerated training, with or without his grades. I know I was. Kingsley seemed disappointed when I turned him down.”

“Is that why you were so angry with those Aurors who tried to question you at the hospital? I was surprised at how hostile they were to our very own Saviour.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Harry grimaced at the memory. “For some reason, all the Aurors that made it through the war seem to think I owe it to the public to join up and fight the good fight, or whatever line they’re using this week.”

“You disagree? I was under the impression that that was exactly what you wanted to do once you graduated from Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, well, that was before Umbridge, Scrimgeour and seventh year.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair to calm himself. It wasn’t Draco’s fault that he was surrounded by idiots in the Ministry. If anything, the blond and his mother had offered him unparalleled protection from the people he didn’t want to see. “I don’t know what I want to do anymore, truthfully. I feel like my life was leading up to Voldemort’s defeat and now that it’s over, I don’t really have a goal in life anymore.”

“That’s rubbish, Harry.” He could feel those grey eyes boring holes into him without even looking up. “However, I could see how you would be a little adrift now that you have control of your life. It’s not something you’ve really had up until now. Granger mentioned that you have always had someone ‘pulling the strings from the sidelines’, whatever that means.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Harry gazed at the fire burning beside him and let his mind drift. “Draco, when is Lucius going to be brought back here?”

“Hopefully, Mother and Healer Jacobi can get Mindwillow taken off of the case so that he can be treated at home. So, the earliest I would say is tomorrow morning.” He could hear the other man’s breathing speed up just a little and he turned to stare at him. “Harry, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“How much do you know about life-debts?”

“I know when I saved you from the Fiendfyre, I negated the life-debt I owed you for lying last year.”

“That is very true,” Draco said in a strained tone. “When my mother lied for you to the Dark Lord, you owed her a debt that was paid by speaking for her.”

“Yeah, I understand. Narcissa and I are even, but…” Something clicked for Harry as he took in the other man’s posture and facial expression. “You and Lucius both owe me debts, don’t you?”

“Yes, to be honest, I think I owe you two, one for when you saved me from that Death Eater that was about to attack me, and another for speaking on my behalf at the trial. Lucius owes you one of an honourable enemy, since you saved him from Azkaban and the Kiss without him thanking you in any fashion.” The blond leaned over the chess board, their game completely forgotten. “Surely you understand that my father is unable to fulfil any debts as of now, and that they all fall to me as Head of the family.”

“That’s not fair to you though!”

“That’s the way it is. As it stands, I actually owe you what is called a debt of honour because of my father, and it holds very strict rules for its fulfilment.”

“What would those be?” Harry growled, knowing he was going to hate the terms.

“First, I must shelter you in my home if you require it. My mother must have realized that when she offered you sanctuary at the Manor.”

“Alright, and the others?”

“Then, I must try to make you family to recover the lost honour,” Draco said through clenched teeth. Harry could have sworn he heard the blond grinding his molars as he spoke. “It is the only way to do so.”

“I’m not marrying your mother or your aunt,” Harry snapped, blushing furiously at the very thought.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco nearly shouted. “My father is still alive and my aunt is a Tonks, at the least a Black. It was a Malfoy who incurred the debt and only a Malfoy would suffice for that role.”

“Oh,” Harry said, feeling his temper drain from him quickly. As far as he knew, only Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius were left for the Malfoy line. “And if that’s not possible?”

“If it was impossible for you to be married into the family, I would be bound to assist you in finding an acceptable marriage contract, one that not only honours my family, but also honours the Potters and the Blacks, since you are the heir my mother’s cousin chose for the Black line.”

“Right, so let me get this straight. Either I have to marry you or you have to find the ‘right kind’ of woman to marry me to?”

“You are close to the truth,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair in a move Harry recognized as something he himself did frequently when frustrated. “It doesn’t have to be right away, and you have every right to tell me to go to hell, or whatever you wish, but I am still honour-bound to assist you. The magic will see to it.”

“Do I have any say in this?” Harry asked. He was beginning to feel trapped by circumstances yet again. “Or do I just have to let things keep happening to me?”

“As I said, Harry, you have all the power here, but no matter what you decide, I am still bound to assist you.”

“So, basically, you’re being forced to either marry me or to help me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, you moron,” Draco snapped. “I could refuse, but then I would lose the magic in my family home. It is a debt of honour on the family name. Should I be unable to fulfil my obligation, the magic will judge accordingly. I have no control over the punishment it chooses either.” The blond sighed and his eyes grew soft. “I don’t find the thought of being assistance to you repugnant, Harry, but I also do not wish to have the magic stripped from my family line if you refuse this.”

A lump gathered in Harry’s throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Can I… can I think about this?”

“Take all the time you need,” Draco whispered. “I believe I will go to bed. Crimmy can show you back to your room.” The blond stood and gave Harry a sad smile. “Good night, Harry.”

“Night, Draco,” he responded automatically. He didn’t hear when the other man left over the thoughts churning over and over in his brain. ‘What do I want?’

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

Draco waited until he was in the safety of his room, behind the strongest Locking and Silencing charms he knew, before he broke down. ‘I knew it was too good to be true. I had to tell him, but he doesn’t have to accept it. He can refuse and condemn my family to a line of Squibs if he wishes it.’ A single tear tracked down his face as he fell forward into the many pillows of his bed. ‘How could I have been so incredibly wrong?’

TBC

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Here But For the Grace of Merlin