Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Company Manners	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12863 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-Company Manners
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 1
- 2
- 3
Thank you for all the reviews!

�� And if the
Cannons win tomorrow,� Ron said, pointing an unsteady finger at Harry, �then you have to get up on the table in
nothing but those poncey green pants that I know
you have, and dance a jig.�

�� All
right,� Harry agreed, grinning both because he knew it would never happen and
because he could just imagine what all his high-society contacts would make of him
if they saw him honoring that bet. He tilted back his head and let the
butterbeer run down his throat. Pleasant as it was when he drank it at home
after all those posh wines with names he couldn�t even pronounce�well, he knew
how to pronounce them now, he just didn�t care�it couldn�t compare to a drink
in the company of his mates.

�� Harry, I
want to know something.� Dean leaned forwards over the table, his forehead
wrinkled as if he were contemplating the purpose of the universe. �How in the
world did you end up owning poncey
green pants? Why did you let the Ministry groom you the way they did? It�s like
you�re some fine racehorse in their stables.�

�� Worse than
that,� Harry muttered. �A racehorse is at least allowed to get sweaty every
once in a while.� He felt Ron clap him on the back, and smiled at him. His
training wasn�t a complete loss of time if it made him able to tell better
jokes, Harry thought.

�� But why?� Dean persisted.

�� Harry
leaned back in his chair, staring thoughtfully at Dean. It was a long time
since he�d felt comfortable enough to join Harry, Ron, and the rest of them at
the Dog and Horn; he�d married Ginny after a whirlwind courtship and seemed to
think that Harry blamed him for that. Harry didn�t, but, on the other hand, he
wasn�t about to encourage Dean to come and talk to him if it would only
distress him.

�� Now,
though, the easy slouch of Dean�s body and that wrinkle in his forehead
indicated he was deep in the perplexed philosophy of drunkenness, and Harry�s
former romance with Ginny was the furthest thing from his mind.

�� Stop noticing his posture, Harry scolded
himself. Your obligation to the Ministry
ends at the front doors of the pure-bloods. You don�t have to keep noticing people and acting intelligent
when you�re out with your mates. He leaned forwards and said seriously,
�Well, you see, they pay me quite a lot of money.�

�� Ron laughed,
incidentally scattering bubbles across the table. Harry muttered a wandless
Cleaning Charm; that was one he�d become very good at in the past five years.

�� But it has
to be something more than that,� Dean said, with all the stubbornness of
someone ramming his head into a stone wall and expecting the wall to crumble.
�After all, you could do other things, even if you can�t be an Auror. Why
change yourself around to suit the Ministry?�

�� Harry
sighed. There was no way to explain his job without sounding pretentious. He
just hoped that Dean would be able to forgive him that. Harry sometimes found
it difficult to forgive himself that.

�� Because I
want to keep the wizarding world from going to war again,� he said quietly. Ron
turned and looked at him in concern. Harry caught his eye and shook his head
with a small, wry smile. I�m all right.
�What good is saving it from Voldemort, if people just turn around and destroy
it on their own?�

�� But people
wouldn�t do that,� Dean said, sounding more confident now. �They know how bad
the last war was. They wouldn�t�� He trailed off, probably because Harry
couldn�t keep a cynical smile from slipping across his face.

�� There are
still stubborn pure-bloods who think people like you and me are shite,� Harry
said. �Except that they can�t say that to our faces, given the political temper
of the times. And there are Muggleborns who think all the pure-bloods should be
eliminated, because that way there couldn�t be another war based on blood
purity.�

��

�That�s ridiculous,� Dean said
flatly.

�I know that,� Harry said. He took
another drink of butterbeer, relishing the way it buzzed in his throat. He
would need to go to another party tomorrow night, one he was emphatically not
looking forwards to, which made the bubbling sensation all the more precious.
�But people think a good deal of ridiculous rubbish. If I can go around and
talk to individual pure-bloods and Muggleborns, people with enough money and
influence to get others thinking the way they do, and persuade them back to a path
of calm reason instead, then the sacrifice of flattening my hair and so on is
worth it.�

Dean was quiet for long moments.
Then he shook his head. �But wouldn�t your natural image work just as well?
After all, the pure-bloods must know that this isn�t the real you, and they�d
be more likely to distrust you.�

�� Harry
snorted in genuine amusement. �I can see that you haven�t met many pure-bloods
devoted to the maintaining of their traditions,� he said. �There�s no one
blinder or more culturally proud on this green earth. They think that, if I
adopt some of their ways of dressing and eating and being, it must be because I
admire them. Even the ones who
suspect or know it�s an act admire the act itself, because that�s the kind of
mental labyrinth they trap themselves in.�

�� That�s why
we need to be here,� Ron said, and flung an arm around his neck. �To remind
Harry of what real life is like.� Solemnly, he tipped most of his butterbeer
down Harry�s back.

�� Harry
punched him in the neck, and then they were down and scrabbling under the
table, Harry laughing and Ron cursing while Dean and the rest cheered them on.

�� This is the real me, Harry thought, as
he crawled out from under the table and brushed dust and foam from his hair. And wouldn�t people like Malfoy shriek and
faint if they saw?

�� At least he
knew he had an easy escape from polite society if it ever became absolutely
intolerable: reveal who he really was, and watch them back away.

*

�� And you�re
sure that Potter will be here?�

�� Astoria
turned and looked at him tolerantly. Draco smoothed a hand down his chest in
consequence and gave her a faint smile. �I sound like a begging child, don�t
I?� he asked.

�� I wouldn�t
say that, having no experience with children at the moment,� Astoria murmured,
and stepped skillfully around one of the tiny tables that had been sat up to
contain food, games, and conversation pieces for her guests. The house-elves
were still arranging several near the outer edge of the sunburst pattern.
Astoria surveyed them for a moment, then tapped one elf�s shoulder and made her
move a table. Ignoring the elf�s attempts to punish herself and obey at the
same time, Astoria turned back to Draco. �More like the squalling Kneazle
kitten that my sister owned.�

�� Draco
sketched a small bow in acknowledgment and sat down on a chair behind him.
Astoria was going to feel amusement at him no matter what happened and she was
an acquaintance of the inner circle, being his best friend�s wife, so he
resigned himself to being that object of amusement. �I can�t believe that
someone hasn�t captured Potter yet.�

�� Oh, plenty
of people have tried.� Astoria moved several steps backwards and then ran a
hand through her blonde hair, trying out several different styles at the same
moment as she considered the wizarding chess pieces on the nearest table. Draco
gazed at her in admiration. Had he ever taken a wife, he would have wanted one
like her. �But Potter smiles at them, and dances with them, and flirts, and
promises nothing.�

�� Yes, I had
that impression.� Draco thought of the way he had tried to impress and corner
Potter at the Ministry function, and the way Potter had slipped out of all the
traps while scarcely seeming to notice them. �Is there anything that seems to attract his attention or hold it?�

�� Astoria
glanced archly at him. �Are you asking me to help you with your flirtation?�
She left the rest of the words unsaid: that that would amount to admitting
Draco�s own qualities were insufficient to attract Potter�s attention.

�� Of course
not,� Draco said, and smiled at her in a way that she would be unable to see
emotion in. �Only wondering what the competition had done in the past.�

�� Astoria
laughed softly. Even her laughter was polished to the point of shining. Draco
had to wonder how Blaise, who had his moments of crudity, had managed to
capture her. Doubtless the answer was buried somewhere in the monologue that
Blaise had favored him with at the Ministry party. �There�s been little
competition. Potter hasn�t dated anyone, so far as I�ve heard, since he became
the Ministry�s little boy-toy.�

�� Draco
smiled at her more broadly. �But, of course, what you�ve heard is not all you
know.�

�� Astoria
twisted her head to the side and peered at him from beneath golden eyelashes.
�Well. That would be telling, wouldn�t it?�

�� Imagine,�
Draco said, rising to his feet and stepping up so that he could trail his
fingers across her elbow, �what entertainment we could provide for you if you
let me know a little more about Potter. The irresistible force against the
immovable object. I leave it up to you to choose who would have what part in
this little drama,� he added generously.

�� Astoria
laughed. �I do think that, if he was going to choose someone from the upper
ranks of society, he would choose someone like you. Cleverness holds his
attention, and makes his duties less wearisome for him.�

�� Someone
from the upper ranks of society,� Draco said slowly, and leaned his elbow on a
chair and gave her a hard stare as invitation to go on.

�� Luckily,
Astoria was not someone who played with a serious flirtation. She gave him an
open glance and said, �Yes. For a time, he was dating Ginny Weasley, or at
least that was the rumor. They separated quite some time back, of course. She�s
married to some Mudblood or other these days. I think he�s an artist. And there
have been rumors of other lovers. Always among people that he would be ashamed
to introduce to us.�

�� Draco
frowned. �I could have sworn that he was perfectly adapted to our way of life.
Why would he want to sully himself with someone beneath him?�

�� He�s
adopted our manners,� said Astoria, �and he�s perfect at them, he really is. A
pleasure to have at any party, including this one.� She got a little
self-satisfied smile on her face that Blaise also had when he mentioned this
particular party, which was to celebrate their marriage anniversary. Draco
rolled his eyes slightly. �But I don�t think he�s let our standards into his
brain and heart. He works for goals.
The beauty and the regularity of our traditions isn�t a goal in and of itself.�

�� Draco shut
his eyes and let a single sweet shiver slide through him.

�� What was
that about?� Astoria asked, thus proving how comfortable she was with him; she
could admit that she hadn�t understood his body language at one glance. �You
looked the way Blaise does when he realizes that someone�s left a loophole in
their appropriations report.�

�� Draco
opened his eyes and gave her his most dazzling smile. �Seat us together for
dinner at this party,� he said. �You won�t regret it.�

�� I would if
you disrupted the festivities in any way, such as by reminding Potter of the
tension between you at school.� Astoria�s voice was mild, but her eyes were
like green steel. Draco�s mother couldn�t have threatened him more effectively�and
hadn�t when she quizzed him about Paul at dinner last night.

�� Of course
not,� Draco said. �I�m simply going to show Potter the attraction of falling
into compliance with our standards after all, and choosing a truly elegant lover.�

�� He didn�t
say the rest, knowing Astoria would be able to sense it without his speaking:
that there was a deep attraction in capturing the attention of someone who had
reasons to shy away from him, and even more in doing what no other pure-blood
had managed to do and making Potter�s inner world as well as his outer
appearance conform to their aesthetic standards.

�� You and a
thousand others,� Astoria said, but her eyes were gently sharp again. �You
forget how many people have had reasons to court him, Draco.�

�� But I do
not think that many other people want him
quite as badly as I do, simply for himself,� Draco said, and captured and
kissed her hand before she could withdraw it. �And I am not without charms of
my own that can give him beauty in return for beauty.�

�� Astoria�s
raised eyebrow implied whole silent worlds of doubt. Draco stood with a laugh
and squeezed her shoulder. �Seat us together at dinner. You�ll have plenty of
entertainment.�

�� And if I
choose not to?� Astoria tilted her head haughtily.

�� Draco bowed.
�Then I must resign myself to the wishes of the hostess, of course�who will not
be able to see some of my more daring moves in this chess game.�

�� Astoria
looked at him thoughtfully, then moved away. Draco watched as she plucked his
card from the table next to Blaise and switched it with that of the Wizengamot
member who had been seated opposite Potter, and felt equal measures of deep
relaxation and eager anticipation surge through him.

�� Oh, Potter. You won�t be watching for sincere
compliments, which means I can take you
on your blind side.

*

�� Hullo,
Potter. Fancy meeting you here.�

�� Harry
offered one of his expert smiles back to Malfoy and sat down on the other side
of the table from him, draping his napkin across his lap. �It is indeed a
surprise,� he said, though of course it wasn�t. He had known that Zabini and
Malfoy were friends in school, and it made sense that he should expect to see
Malfoy here. Nor was it coincidence that they were across from each other, or
isolated at a tiny table. If Malfoy thought that Harry would allow that to
disconcert him, however, he should think again. �I reckon that you haven�t been
back in England long enough for us to meet twice by sheer chance.� He picked up
his glass of wine, sipped at it, and then looked inquiringly at Malfoy.

�� Malfoy
blinked once, then recovered and leaned across the table as if he would brush
Harry�s wrist with his fingers again. Harry coincidentally moved his hand away
so that he could balance the plate of venison being handed to him, murmuring
thanks to the server. She blushed prettily. Harry approved. Sometimes it was
good to be reminded that not every single action in pure-blood society was the
product of forethought and careful maneuvering.

�� Just most of them.

�� Not long
enough for that,� Malfoy murmured as he cut apart his own venison. He watched
Harry�s fork with narrowed eyes. Harry used it perfectly to spite him. For some
reason, Malfoy smiled. �But long enough for me to have lost my head quite
hopelessly to your charms.� He looked up into Harry�s face.

�� Harry
solemnly lifted an invisible head on his fork and knife to hand back to Malfoy.
�Here it is again. What use would I have for it?�

�� My hostess
tells me that you�ve received more than your fair share of compliments,� Malfoy
said. His voice was low, unaffected by Harry�s gesture, but a faint flush
touched his cheeks. Harry noticed it with satisfaction. �One would think you
would be more gracious about accepting them.�

�� Harry gave
Malfoy a half-bow. �My natural modesty means I grow anxious about the �more
than my fair share� part,� he said. �Surely you should have some. Do you want
me to conjure a mirror so that you can begin addressing the deficit?� He lifted
his wand politely.

�� Malfoy
closed his eyes and took a long breath. Harry seized the opportunity to take a
few bites. If Malfoy was this much of a talker throughout the meal, Harry
wouldn�t get a chance to eat, and fainting from hunger was embarrassing.

�� Your beauty
is unrivaled in this room,� Malfoy said at last, opening his eyes. �You have perfect manners; I haven�t seen you make
a mistake yet.� Harry looked thoughtfully at him and considered making one, if
it would deflect Malfoy�s absurd interest in him, but no, this was too public a
place and would entail too much of a sacrifice of his reputation. �You parry my
words well. Have you considered for a moment that my yearning for you might be
genuine?�

�� Of course
not,� Harry said. �We�re all practiced in games, aren�t we? And what could be a
better game than convincing me that you mean something you don�t?� He took
another bite and smiled blandly at Malfoy, automatically keeping his lips shut
so that he wouldn�t show any food stuck between his teeth, despite the temptation
to frighten Malfoy. �It�s too bad for you that I�ve played this game too many
times to enjoy being either loser or victor.�

*

�� Damn. Of course. Draco could not believe
that he�d failed to make the connection in his own mind. He�d assumed that, since
Potter appeared to reject pure-blood values even as he aped them, he would
appreciate genuine compliments and be drawn to Draco because of them.

�� He�d
forgotten that Potter was practiced enough in those values to assume that any
apparently genuine compliment was a ploy to win something else from him. He had
no reason to differentiate Draco�s words from any of the others he received.

�� And he doesn�t appreciate the acting for
itself, either, as a performance or an art. This could be problematic.

�� But Potter
finished his latest bite and looked straight at him, green eyes bright and
challenging, and Draco realized that he didn�t care. He�d never been so drawn
to anyone. He wanted Potter, and he could climb over problems in the way. Yes,
Potter had met plenty of people who wanted to flirt with him, but none with the
real motivation Draco had. And that real motivation remained in spite of all
the doubts Potter had. He could not actually
reach into Draco�s skull and change Draco�s mind.

�� Draco
relaxed and smiled at Potter, and he raised an eyebrow back. �Have you
reclaimed your head?� he asked politely.

�� I�m going
to take a risk,� Draco said. �I�m going to tell you why I left England and what
I�ve been doing for the last five years. Then you might understand what the
sight of you means to me.�

�� Potter
tapped his glasses. �I�ve never been that accomplished at seeing through
someone else�s eyes. Myopia and all that.�

�� Draco
surprised himself by reaching across the table and grabbing Potter�s wrist.
�Listen to me,� he said. �And don�t make judgments until you�ve heard all I
have to say. Please.�

�� Potter let
his eyes travel slowly from Draco�s gripping fingers up to his face. Draco
flinched, feeling properly scathed, but didn�t let him go. In fact, he rubbed
his fingers in place and saw Potter flush a bit in response.

�� Abruptly,
Potter relaxed and gave Draco a small smile. �It�s been a while since anyone
used a tactic like that to gain my attention,� he said. He tugged gently at the
wrist Draco still held prisoner. �All right. Talk.�

�� I do like
touching you, you know,� Draco whispered back, but released him, because he
could already feel curious eyes on their table. He sat back, picked up his
fork, ate a few bites, and considered. Potter sat calmly across the table from
him, his eyes fixed on Draco�s face with gratifying attention.

�� I met Paul
when he came to England to attend a Potioneers� Convention,� Draco began. �I
found him charming, open in a way that no one I knew at the time was, and
interestingly brilliant on the subject of potions.� He cocked his head at
Potter. �If I had known you at the time, I wouldn�t have been so tempted.�

�� Potter gave
him an elusive smile. �Paul�was his last name Breaker, by any chance? The one
who first used dandelion fluff as the cure delivery in Burn-Relieving Potion?�

�� Draco
caught his breath. Here was his first proof that Potter was actually
knowledgeable on the subjects he talked to other guests about, not simply
skilled at making them laugh. �That�s the one,� he said.

�� Potter�s
smile grew a bit brighter. �I don�t blame you for being interested in him. What
I could understand of his technical papers proves that he�s both original and creative. I�ve noticed a lot of
Potions brewers are only one or the other.�

�� Draco
blinked. The distinction between originality and creativity was one that
Professor Snape had made, and no one else since. And he had done it only in
private sessions with Draco when he was showing him techniques and tactics that
he would never get a chance to teach in class�hardly a time or place that
Potter could have spied them out.

�� He was
that,� he said. �Alas, he was also creative with insults.�

�� Why?�
Potter�s eyes widened with what looked like honest interest. �If you were
willing to leave your own country to live with him, that argues that your
interest should be repaid with interest.� He allowed Draco a moment to enjoy
the mild pun before he continued, gently but persistently. �What did he have to
insult you about?�

�� My
heritage,� Draco said. �My accent. Everything that was British. He claimed to
love it when we were in this country, and the moment he had me trapped in the
States, he started heaping rubbish on me.� He was quiet a moment, remembering
the way Paul used to sneer when he�d successfully landed another blow on
Draco�s pride.

�� Potter
reached across the table and touched his elbow. Like the pat that Draco had
seen him give to Hartley two days ago, this was not condescending. Draco
remembered the cruel meanings that Paul could instill into the slightest
gesture, and decided that Potter was Paul�s opposite in more ways than one.

�� I can�t
imagine that you�re a man to take that for long,� said Potter, in just the warm,
comforting tone Draco had wished somebody would talk to him in when his
relations with Paul were at their worst. �What kept you there?�

�� Because
I�d already invested so much effort in moving,� Draco said. �I also had a
futile hope that he�d change if I remained with him long enough, and he could
see how much I loved him. Most foolish of all, I couldn�t bear to admit that
I�d been wrong, the way I�d have to if I went back home. It was rather a
whirlwind affair; he was here for two weeks for the Potioneers� Convention, and
then he stayed another month or so to get to know me. Several of my friends
said I was mad when I followed him home. I didn�t want to prove them right.�

�� How well I
understand that impulse,� Potter said with a rueful smile. �It ruins some of
our best actions.� He reached out and grasped his glass to take a sip of wine
without removing his eyes from Draco�s face. �What made you finally change your
mind?�

�� Little by
little, the evidence piled up,� Draco said. �When I finally asked whether Paul
loved me, he laughed and told me that of course he didn�t, but he didn�t mind
me and I was convenient.�

�� He closed
his eyes. He could still see Paul�s face, alight with mischievous mirth. His voice
was full of scorn as he said, �You�re a good fuck, Draco. You do your part like
a good little housewife to clean up the place. Why should I complain?�

�� Draco had
stood there and seen five years of his assumptions clatter to pieces around his
feet.

�� Such a waste. Such a bloody, fucking waste
of time when I could have been doing so many other things instead.

�� He didn�t
think he could bring himself to tell Potter that. But, under the influence of a
compassionate gaze and an intense, listening silence, he told him something
like it, in halting words. Potter never encouraged him to hurry. He never, as
his parents had done, puckered his lips in disapproval that something so common
and nonsensical had taken in a Malfoy. He nodded in the appropriate places,
hummed sympathetically, and asked appropriate questions.

�� Draco took
a deep breath at the end of it and blinked at his mostly full plate. He didn�t
feel hungry; he felt purged, as
though he�d finally dumped a large load of poison he�d been carrying around for
months.

�� He gazed at
Potter in wonder. It�s no surprise that
he�s managed to make the relations between pure-bloods and Muggleborns so
cordial, if that�s an example of what he does.

�� Potter
swallowed the last of his wine and gave him a small smile. �That was a more
pleasant conversation than I�ve had in months,� he said. �I hope it was
beneficial to you as well.� He stood up, shook Draco�s hand, and started to
turn away.

�� Draco
blinked again and stood up, too, reaching out to lay a hand on Potter�s
shoulder. He felt suddenly so panicked that he hardly cared who saw him do it.
�Wait. You can�t�you�ll stay and have a piece of chocolate with me?� Astoria�s
house-elves were laying out neat plates of delicious-looking desserts on every
table. �A bit of talk?�

�� Potter gave
him that elusive smile he�d used when they began the conversation. �Why would
I? You wanted to talk about what made you leave Britain, and I�ve listened. I
doubt any other subject could absorb us as much.�

�� Draco
stared at him and tightened the hold of his fingers on Potter�s shoulder. He
felt inexplicably scorned, though there was no insult in what Potter had just
said. Draco had become used to spotting hidden insults when he was with Paul.
�But we�ve hardly said anything. About that date��

�� I have a very full social calendar, I�m afraid,�
Potter said lightly, and stripped Draco�s fingers off with a neat sideways
step. �I hope that you find someone who can do you a greater service than I can
in healing your heart.� He gave Draco an amiable nod and worked his way to the
far side of the room, collecting his cloak from the house-elves with a smile that
made them look as if they�d like to melt on the spot. He was gone before Draco
could take a step after him.

�� Draco stood
there staring, until it would have become too obvious. Then he turned to fetch
dessert. But his heart was thumping angrily.

�� I assumed that showing him my real,
vulnerable self would provoke him to show his real self in turn.

�� He didn�t mock me. He didn�t betray me. But
he didn�t respond the way I wanted him to.

�� I did tell
you he was skilled in countering the offers he receives,� Astoria murmured as
she floated past him.

�� That she
was right did Draco�s temper no good at all.

*

�� Harry took
a deep breath and shook his head as he stepped out of the Zabinis� house. The
front porch was in the shadow of a stone portico�convenient, as it was raining.
He took a moment to tuck his cloak firmly around him and think over the
evening�s accomplishments. True, he hadn�t done much once he sat down at
Malfoy�s table, but he�d spoken to two possible agitators before then and convinced
them to come and talk to the Ministry about their concerns.

�� He didn�t
always enjoy his job. He wished that Kingsley, in particular, was a bit less
strict about demanding perfection from him. On the other hand, he knew that the
pure-bloods would forgive no lapse from perfection, so the strictness was
understandable.

�� And perhaps
it was premature to say that he hadn�t done much while he was sitting with
Malfoy.

�� Harry
smiled and silently toasted himself. He�d learned early on in his training that
there was no subject people enjoyed talking about so much as themselves, and
many of the pure-bloods had to repress their personal interests and histories
lest someone use their weaknesses against them. Harry could turn an annoying or
uncomfortable conversation to their pet subjects with a bit of knowledge, and
on they would prattle. It spared him a lot of effort, they almost never noticed
what he�d done in the sheer absorbing relief of talking about themselves, and
they didn�t ask questions about him
that might have proven problematic.

�� It also didn�t
harm anyone, since Harry didn�t use the knowledge he gained that way against
them�unless they started talking about blood purity or conspiring against the
Ministry. Then he lost his mercy.

�� But it
seemed as though Malfoy was about as far as possible from someone in either of
those two categories. The poor bastard just wanted to talk, and his tale of
thwarted pride was familiar enough to Harry.

�� Paul Breaker needs punching, Harry
decided as he stood there, staring idly at the rain and waiting for a small
pause so that he could run to the Apparition point. He could have used an
Impervious Charm, but he was tired from playing his part today and didn�t want
to make a mistake in the spell in front of pure-bloods.

�� The
conversation with Malfoy had even done something for Harry himself, since it had
looked, just before he left, as though Malfoy was one of the rare people who�d
figured out his tactic. He�d been angry about it, too. Probably offended enough
to give up this ridiculous business of asking Harry for a date.

�� Harry
chuckled as he saw the raindrops stop falling quite as hard and dodged out
across the flagstones surrounding the Zabini manor house. Let�s hope he�ll find a nice Potions expert to fall in love with,
because sympathy�s all he�s getting from me.

*

�� SP777:
Thanks for reviewing! The game is, so far, not going the way Draco wants it to.

�� Point of
Tears: Thanks! At this point, Harry thinks Draco would back away from him in
disgust, and he may be correct.

�� butterpie: Thank
you! Harry thinks that Draco would despise him, but then, he hasn�t really
given him a chance to see what he�s like.

�� yaoiObsessed:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� thrnbrooke:
Thanks very much!

�� Snakekat:
Thank you! I think one of the more amusing parts of the story is that Harry
thinks those traits aren�t �really� part of him, even though he uses them so
well.

�� SamuraiSaaya:
Thank you! Glad you got that feeling from Draco�s visual feast on Harry; his
feelings are immediate and strong in part because of the contrast with his ex,
but also because he really does think Harry is that attractive.

�� Oscillum:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� BloodLust 777:
Thank you!

��
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Company Manners