 
                
| Untamed Heart | By : Prentice Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13183 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 | 
| 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. | |
Untamed Heart
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Category: AU
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mild lanuage
Summary: When the son of a billionaire takes an interest in a local 
star, will their relationship be doomed to fail even before it begins?
Chapter 2
When Harry had accepted the invitation to go to town with the two of his 
closest friends, he hadn’t expected anything interesting to happen. After all, 
this was just Little Whinging, the dullest town on the map. The most exciting 
thing that had happened in this town since as far as Harry could remember was 
when one of the locals went to Hogsmeade for a vacation or--and this hadn’t 
happened since Ron’s older brother Bill had come to visit last time--someone 
actually got to see Diagon Alley. 
Which was something that rarely, if ever, happened for anyone in this town. 
To even been seen near Diagon Alley, you had to have a certain amount of money 
and a hell of a lot of style. Not that Ron’s brother Bill had either, but he did 
work for Gringotts, the largest bank chain in the area so he was easily able to 
see the place from time to time. 
It was a full-town event whenever Bill came to visit, as sad as that sounded. 
And that was even discounting when Ron’s other brother Charlie came to 
visit...Harry still couldn’t remember everything he had done that night and the 
party had been nearly a year ago. 
‘Oh well. It’s probably for the best.’ He consoled himself, watching the 
scenery roll by. It wasn’t much to look at, just an occasional tree and a whole 
hell of a lot of farm land. It was most definitely dull but, at the very least, 
it was home. ‘At least I’m not living with my relatives anymore.’
A shudder ran through Harry at the thought. He’d only been a year old when he 
had moved in with his relatives after his parents had died in a ‘supposed’ car 
crash. Living with his aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon, and annoying older cousin 
Dudley had been a practice in self control and anger management. Every day, each 
one of them pushed Harry to his limit till he was sure he was going to snap and 
just punch one of them in their face. That is, until hd bed become best friend’s 
with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. 
Ron had lived in the town for most of his life. He was part of one of the 
families whose ancestry, amazingly, almost lead back to the very founding of the 
town. Everyone knew his name and everyone was his friend. The few people who 
weren’t really close friends with him, thought of him as their little brother 
since, in fact, he had five older brothers and one little sister. Harry and Ron 
had been friends for years despite Harry not being allowed out that much by his 
relatives.
Then there was Hermione, whom had moved to the town just a short while ago 
with her parents, the resident dentists of the town. She was unlike anyone Ron 
and Harry had met over the years, which was probably why his friend was so in 
love with her though he denied it. She had moved from Hogsmeade to Little 
Whinging when her parents had decided that city life just wasn’t the right place 
to raise a growing girl and despite the extreme change, Hermione had taken to 
small town living like a duck to water. 
Which was why, Harry supposed, he owed both of them such a great deal. Less 
than a year ago when things were just beginning to truly begin to become 
horrible in his relatives household for him, Harry had been able to, with Ron 
and Hermione‘s help, save enough money to move out of his relatives house , 
which was a blessing in a blessing since they had “unexpectedly” decided to move 
two days later, into a semi-cheap flat but also helped him wrangle a part time 
job at The Leaky Cauldron. 
Being a part time dish washer and bus boy wasn’t glamorous in any sense of 
the word but it kept the rent paid and the groceries stocked, which was more 
than he could say for some of the other jobs he’d had over the years.
‘Yeah. Like Uncle Vernon said “ the world needs ditch-diggers too, boy” 
Harry thought disgustedly. 
At seventeen years old, Harry was hardly a world famous movie-star but he 
still liked to think of himself a little higher up the food chain than a ditch 
digger. Not that there was anything wrong with that particular profession but--
‘I want something more than that.’ Harry mused, bracing himself against 
the side of the truck as it dipped into yet another pot-hole along the worn 
road.
What the ‘more’ Harry wanted was, he couldn’t say, but whatever it was, he 
could sure in the hell guarantee it was more than what his relatives thought he 
would get. It was more than what most people thought he could get. Despite being 
well liked around the small town of Little Whinging, he had more than a few 
friends, young and old alike, Harry knew that the town viewed him as a fixture.
Someone who would never leave the clutches of open farm land; someone who 
would always be there if they needed a helping hand. But Harry couldn’t help but 
feel that there was something more out there for him. Something greater than the 
back room of The Cauldron and his musty old apartment above it. 
A sigh escaped the boy‘s lips. There wasn’t a use in dwelling on those 
depressing thoughts right now. They would do him no good here. He’d just have to 
make sure that lifelife changed when he had gathered enough money to do it or 
when the opportunity presented itself.
Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to see where, Harry placed one hand 
on top of the package that Ron was trying his best to make fly out of the bed of 
the truck. Inside, Harry knew was a care package from Ron’s mother, Molly, to 
Regina Sprout, the local herbalist and one of Hermione’s hero. Apparently, poor 
Regina had come down with a nasty case of the flu but Harry had a sneaking 
suspicion that her unexpected close-up-shop-sick-week had more to do with the 
fact that Regina’s old beau, Barty Crouch was in town visiting. 
‘I don’t understand what she sees in the old goat. He’s just so smarmy.’ 
Harry thought, remembering the first time he had ever met the man. He had been 
minding the bar of the Cauldron for Tom, when old Barty had burst in 
three-sheets to the wed talking about needing a good drink or a good fight. 
Whichever came first. 
Harry had had to tackle the old dodger just to get him stop throwing punches 
in the air at anybody who passed by him. 
‘I wonder how Mrs. Figg’s eye is doing…’ Harry thought distractedly as he 
felt the truck suddenly begin to accelerate. That meant one of two things: 
either they were getting close to town or Ron had lost control of the truck -- 
again. 
‘I really need to start driving us.’ Harry thought wearily as he 
struggled to keep his glasses from slipping off his nose. Sometimes it seemed as 
though Ron expected the truck to just drive itself. ‘I’d probably have less 
bruises if it did.’
Not that Harry was one to talk since he had yet to receive his driver’s 
license. You had to actually know how to drive to get it, he had found 
out. And though Harry wasn’t above asking for some lesson from Ron or Hermione’s 
parents, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of having to explain to the local uppity 
transportation officials why he was getting a license but had no car. 
As it were, however, Harry had found that he was able to hitch a ride easily 
enough from one of the locals or just take the sickle-bus, as it was deemed by 
Ron, since the driver insisted that Harry only pay a sickle a ride since he used 
it so much, to where he needed to go. Which wasn’t very far since most of what 
the town had to offer was concentrated in one single area. 
For most of the town citizens, that was okay. But to Harry, it was a 
nightmare. 
‘Same shit, different day.’ He mourned silently, gripping the side of the 
truck. Everyone who lived in the town had long past given up on something 
interesting happening and the quiet living suited them better. After the war was 
over, people around Little Whinging glorified in the mundane and simple. It was 
the nature of the beast, Harry supposed. Small towns weren’t exactly known a 
wild pits of sin and debauchery. Not that that was what Harry was looking 
for but it would be nice to have something to do besides going to hang out at 
the Cauldron, the place he worked, on a Friday evening. 
“Oi! Harry! Hold on!” Ron’s voice bellowed from inside the cab of the truck.
Harry grimaced, curling his fingers tighter against the side of the truck and 
bracing his feet against the bed. He couldn’t help but let out a yelp as the 
truck gave a large jerk, slamming his shoulder painfully against the side of the 
truck. Moments later, familiar buildings came into his view: The Leaky Cauldron, 
Sprout’s Herbal Shop, the all-night grocer, and a few other small town 
necessities. 
‘Just enough to make sure you never have to leave this damn place.’ Harry 
mused, pressing his shoulder against the side of the truck to keep from getting 
another bruise. And it was true. Despite the fact that the town was small and 
out of the way, it had all the amenities that it needed for the citizens to 
survive. 
A hiss of pain escaped Harry’s lips as his head slammed back against the 
truck when it suddenly came to a some-what screeching halt. 
Harry blinked blearily, trying to shake the spots that were flashing in front 
his eyes away. Already he could hear Hermione chastising Ron for his driving. 
Something’s never change. Every single time the three of them went to town, 
Hermione yelled at Ron but yet, she never asked to drive herself.
“Are you happy, Ron?! You could have killed us!” Hermione screeched, as she 
flung herself out the truck.
Harry rolled his eyes beneath his glasses. Hermione would really never 
change. She always said the same thing.
Turning his head so he could see Ron, Harry cracked a small smile when his 
friend threw him a ‘why me?’ look through the back window. Some things would 
definitely never change. 
“Don’t be so dramatic, ‘Moine.” The red-head replied, slipping out of the 
truck. Harry’s smile slipped slightly as another sigh escaped his lips. It was 
so bloody hot now that the truck was stopped. He hadn’t noticed before, he’d 
been too busy holding on for dear life. 
Pushing his glasses farther up his nose, the boy pealed himself from the bed, 
running his hand through his wind swept hair, trying to no avail to tame it. 
With another sigh of irritation, he leaned down and grabbed the package. 
“You don’t think Ron’s driving might have broken something in it, do you 
Harry?” Hermione asked, reaching her arms out to take the package from him.
Harry shrugged. “Maybe.”
Waiting till he was sure that his friend had a good grip on the package, 
Harry wiping his fingers on his jeans before bracing a hand on the side and 
jumping over the side to land with a soft thump. He really didn’t want to be on 
the receiving end of one of Hermione’s yelling sprees if something was broke. 
He’d been at the end of one once, that had been more than enough.
“Well, come on then, don’t just stand there all day.” Hermione snapped, 
shoving the package into Ron’s arms before hurrying off into the direction of 
Sprout’s shop. Ron rolled his eyes again and began to follow. Harry shook his 
head, a smile tugging his lips. Those two already acted like a married couple 
and they weren’t even dating. Yet.
Taking a deep breath of the hot dry air, Harry let his eyes roam over the 
town. So different but yet the same, day in and day out. It was a comfort and a 
hindrance for him. So many times he had dreamed of leaving this town and all 
it’s many occupants behind; living the glamorous life on some shore side 
mansion, getting suits tailored in Madame Milkin’s shop, cruising Diagon Alley 
with all the upper crust of society. Actually relaxing backstage in Platform 
9 ¾ while his band tuned up on stage waiting for him.
That was definitely what dreams were made of.
Abruptly, a scuffing noise to his right drew Harry’s attention. Who would it 
be? Someone asking a favor or one of his friends just saying hi? But, it was 
neither. 
Harry felt his mouth go dry and throat tight at what he found waiting for 
him: A young man, no more than a year older than himself stood watching his 
friend’s retreating backs, just in the shade a few meters off. 
‘He’s definitely not from around here.’ Harry considered, taking in the 
pressed designer button down shirt, rumbled khakis and delicate sunglasses the 
perched on the bridge of the boy’s nose. 
But the other man’s clothes were only a side attraction to how badly he stood 
out in the town. The cool confidence and flutter of arrogance that hung over him 
like a second skin made his whole presence scream that he didn’t belong here. 
The boy was like a ball of sparkling brightness in a town full of dirt mounds.
Forcing himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, Harry found the need 
to find out who this boy was, why he was here and, most importantly, how long 
he’d be staying made almost over powering. Without realizing it, the 
bespectacled boy began to take a step towards the alluring and breathtaking 
creature that had appeared in the town over night. 
‘Just one look…just one…’ Harry promised himself, taking a long delicious 
look at those ivory-cream features that were flushed red from the sun. It made 
Harry’s stomach do an odd little somersault. 
In spite of the fact that the sun was making Harry’s skin burn and sweat like 
he was locked in a sauna, the other boy looked, for lack of a better term, cool. 
The soft skin of his cheeks had rosy tints that made Harry’s chest flutter. The 
boy’s blonde hair shimmered white in the sunlight and Harry could almost imagine 
how soft it would be. The boy’s lips, that even from this distance looked 
delicate and soft, were held open in a small “O” as he gave short pants of 
breath in and out. 
Harry shifted, his jeans suddenly uncomfortably tight as he continued his 
inspection. The boy’s eyes were hidden behind the reflective glass off designer 
sun glasses but Harry would have bet his week’s paycheck that they would be 
steely gray underneath. He wasn’t sure why or how, but he just knew they would 
be.
Taking a shaky breath in, Harry tried to control the urge to run to the boy 
and just -- just--
‘Oh damn…’ Harry thought as the other boy, as if in slow motion, felt 
Harry’s eyes on him and turned to look. His breath caught in his throat.
This boy was -- exquisite with his tailored clothes, expensive sunglasses and 
alluring physique. He practically breath wealth and power. Lots of it.
For what seemed to be an eternity, Harry held the boys gaze, his curiosity 
over riding all sense of politeness. This, this was exactly what Harry 
had always been waiting for. This boy who made fear and longing coil in his 
stomach almost to the point of making him dizzy.
And then, the other boy was moving, one step, two. He stopped, looking at 
Harry unsure. Purely on instinctive, a shy smile formed on Harry’s lips. The 
moment it did, he was more than thankful. His smile seemed to make the other boy 
sway forward another step. 
‘That’s it. Just a few more steps…’
“Harry? You coming, mate?”
Harry blinked, eyes flickering away to his friends and then back, his smile 
still firmly in place. That seemed to wrench another step out of the boy. Harry 
couldn’t help but grin.
“No. No, I don’t think I will. I’ll meet you both at the Cauldron.” He said, 
his eyes staying glued on the other boy’s. 
“Oh, okay. See you there.” His friend said, moving off towards Hermione.
Harry hardly noticed, so intent was he on the blonde. Minutes passed as he 
waited for the other boy to move but he didn’t.
‘Guess it’s my move…’ Harry deliberated. Taking a deep breath, the raven 
haired boy began to move towards the blonde, heart pounding in his chest.
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