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Acts of Life	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21189 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Twenty-One—Defending
            “This one might actually be reasonable,” Harry muttered as he heard the Floo connection start to wake up. There was a chime that meant it was coming from the Burrow, which sounded now in gentle pulses. Harry laid aside his breakfast and hurried into the drawing room. A single wave of his wand cleared the connection to open.
            Molly’s face appeared in the fire.
            Harry swallowed. He hadn’t actually talked to her since the birthday party for Ginny and Percy. Or, well, there’d been minor Floo calls, but not a whole lot of chatter. Mostly, she’d wanted to talk to him about some of the owls that still got sent to the Burrow for him.
            “Harry.” Molly’s smile was restrained, but it blossomed into a familiar one as she studied him. “I see Kreacher is keeping you well-fed.”
            “He is.” Harry smiled, glad they could start with something simple like that. Then he waited.
            “Hermione told me that I should speak to you, that you had something important to tell me.”
            Of course she would put it that way. But at least Hermione had left it up to Harry to tell the Weasleys the news the way he wanted. Harry couldn’t help but love her for that. “Yes,” he said. “Not world-shatteringly important, but personal.”
            “Oh.” Molly bit her lip, and it occurred to Harry that she looked a lot like Ginny when she did that.
            Well, that’s not something I need to worry about, now. Harry nodded, and gently destroyed what he suspected were the hopes Molly was starting to nourish of him coming back to Ginny. “I’m dating Draco Malfoy.”
            Molly stared at him as if he had said he was dating a centaur. Maybe she would believe it more, based on the connections in the news, Harry thought. He didn’t think he and Draco were in the news at all, unless Mournegath had gone to the papers.
            On the other hand, I doubt Mournegath is seeing anything but the inside of his own arse right now.
            “Oh, Harry,” Molly finally said. “I had no idea…is this the reason you broke up with Ginny?”
            “Because I wanted to date Draco?” Harry shook his head. “I had no idea that I thought of him that way then, or that he would think of me like that.” Certain things were clearer in hindsight, but at the time, that had been his perception.
            “Because you wanted to date—boys.”
            A little amused, Harry wondered what other words she’d been trying to pick among. “No,” he said honestly. “Draco is the first one I’ve ever felt that way about.” He hesitated, and decided that if he could be diplomatic with people like Mournegath, he could do it with Molly, although maybe not as easily. “I would probably still be together with Ginny if we hadn’t both been stupid about what we wanted from each other.”
            Molly blinked a little, and lifted a hand to swipe at her eye. “Thank you, dear,” she whispered. “It’s nice to hear someone be honest about it.”
            What did she think I wouldn’t be honest about? But Harry ruthlessly squashed the temptation to ask what Ginny had told her. He might want to know, but he didn’t need to. “So. I wanted to tell you before you got shocked by the pictures in the paper.”
            “Of course.” Molly closed her eyes for a second. “I’ll tell Arthur, and Charlie and Percy—I don’t imagine that they’ll care. But I’d like you to tell the others. And I think you should tell Andromeda.”
            “Of course,” Harry murmured back. He had thought of how to explain to Andromeda that he was becoming closer to her nephew, but he hadn’t settled on a satisfactory way of doing it yet. Well, now he would have to. Teddy, thank Merlin, was too young for any sort of explanation yet, the same way he would have been too young to understand about Harry and Ginny.
            “Well.” Molly gave herself a shake and then said, “I won’t pretend that I’m not disappointed. But I hope you enjoy yourself with him, Harry.” She eyed Harry for a minute, then added, “And he’d better take good care of you. At least do as well as Kreacher. Or I’ll have something to say to him.”
            “Luckily, his house-elves are more in charge of that than he is,” Harry said, amused. He’d thought of mentioning Mrs. Malfoy, and then decided not to. Molly might take it as a kind of challenge. With Kreacher in the house, Harry already had more than enough to eat. “Thanks, Molly. I’ll tell the others.”
            “In public?”
            “You mean at the Burrow?” Harry shook his head. “I’ll stop by the shop and Andromeda’s house and Bill’s house to tell them. I’ll call Ron over here.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I think that a letter to Ginny might be wiser than a Floo call.”
            “Yes, I’m afraid you’re right.” Molly sighed, her eyes misty. Harry thought she was looking into futures that hadn’t happened yet. Then she turned back towards him, and stuck out one finger. “Make sure that you know you can always come and talk to me, young man. I’m not going to leave one of my children out in the world on his own.”
            “I know that,” Harry said softly. He wished he could reach through the fire and squeeze Molly’s hand the way her words were squeezing around his heart, but he managed to dismiss them with a light smile and shake of his head. “I’ll Floo Ron right now.”
            “Good,” said Molly. “I know he’ll be all right with this, Harry.”
            “Eventually?”
            “Maybe eventually.” Molly nodded, unruffled. “Then I’ll talk to you later.”
            “Yes,” said Harry, and watched as her face disappeared from the flames. Then he took a few moments to lean back on his hands and just breathe.
            It might be silly, but he needed that moment of relaxation before he tossed the Floo powder into the flames and called out the name Ron and Hermione had chosen for their flat.
*
            Draco waited. He couldn’t do much else with the delicacy of the drop that was trembling on the bowl of the raised spoon, actually. If anything more than one drop of wintergreen essence went into the potion, then it would be ruined. He had to hold on and wait for it to fall—
            There!
            Draco tossed the spoon out of the way the moment the drop fell into the potion, ignoring the sound of shattering glass. His mother or the house-elves could always fix it. He slammed the lid over the cauldron, and heard the slow, foaming, throbbing roar inside it rise and then subside it as it crashed against the lid. Then it melted back down the sides of the cauldron, sliding with thick, syrupy ribbons, Draco knew, although he couldn’t see it.
            He took a long step back and shook his head, sighing. Yes, there. He had completed the first order of a healing potion that was extremely complex to brew, and which the Ministry, if they thought of it at all, would probably have assumed he couldn’t make, not with this magic restricted to first-year spells.
            Draco grinned with a skull’s teeth. He had done it, and he would keep on doing it and thriving, no matter what other people thought.
            He turned around when he heard a fluttering of wings against the window. He had charms up that would block owls while he was brewing most potions this complex, cast by his mother. But she had also set them to fall when the brewing was done. Draco knew she was worried about him getting injured by an explosion and finding himself locked behind a magical wall, with her unable to hear any shouts or screams for help.
            The owl carried a smoking red letter in one talon. Draco felt his throat freeze for a second, and he would have backed away and hidden under a table if he could.
            Well, you can’t. You’re a grown man, and you can face your own post.
            Draco opened the window, and the owl soared in. It circled only once before dropping the Howler and then fleeing, as if it didn’t want to listen to the shouting any more than Draco did.
            Draco turned around in resignation just as the Howler burst open and an only vaguely familiar voice filled the room.
            “You think you have the RIGHT to just go and date Harry? You think this is something that’s going to last?” There was the briefest of pauses, as if even the sender of the Howler had to pause to get his breath, and then he kept going. “You’re WRONG! He’s meant to date someone who makes him happy, which you WON’T! You’re a convicted Death Eater! How can you?”
            Draco licked his lips and blinked. This was a lot milder than some of the other Howlers he had received in the past short while, and it wasn’t even saying anything especially untrue. When he listened, he knew it was a male voice, not Harry’s former girlfriend’s. And he thought he would have recognized Weasley’s.
            One of Weasley’s brothers, perhaps? It made the most sense, although Draco would have to ask Harry which one.
            “I’m sickened by you,” the Howler ended, and then tore itself into blazing red confetti. Draco shook his head and turned around to tell the house-elves to clean up what remained of it, as well as the vial he had probably shattered earlier.
            Harry stood frozen in the doorway of the lab. Draco stood frozen with surprise by the sight of him, and then moved slowly forwards.
            “Sorry,” Harry whispered, staring at the remains of the Howler. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I came over earlier, and your mum said you were brewing a complicated potion and couldn’t be disturbed right now. I was going to wait…” He let his voice trail off.
            Draco took Harry’s hands and sighed a little. “So which one of them was it?”
            “What?” Harry’s eyes came back to him, still wide.
            Draco swung his hands. “I know it wasn’t your best friend. Which one of his brothers? I don’t know all their voices.”
            “It was George.” Harry shook his head slowly, seeming to wake from a dream. “It didn’t seem like he cared that much. I stopped by his shop yesterday and told him we were dating. He—well, he didn’t look pleased, but the only thing he wanted to know was whether I’d started dating you before I broke up with Ginny. Once he knew that wasn’t the case, he at least acted like he believed me and we didn’t talk about it again.”
            “Maybe something changed,” Draco suggested. “Maybe she contacted him, or he thought it over and decided he wasn’t all right with it.” He hesitated. “What did Weasley say?”
            “Ron?” Harry looked at him with a quirk to his mouth. “You know that you’ll probably have to start using his first name when we’re talking about a whole family with the same surname.”
            Draco caught his breath and held it. Then he let it out and used it to shape his words. “Ron. Right. What did he say?”
            “We talked for an hour yesterday, and he said that he wanted to meet you and me together and talk it over with you himself.” Harry’s hand tightened on Draco’s arm. “We can go and meet him right now, if you like.”
            Draco looked at the place where the ashes had been—the house-elves were efficient—and thought of how he could hide in the lab for the rest of his life. Then he turned around and smiled a little. It wasn’t attractive even as a fantasy. “Let’s go.”
*
ChaosLady: Thank you!
moon: Draco likes him, too. ;)
starr: The Weasleys are still important to Harry, and he does want them to be okay with it. But as long as they aren’t actually attacking Draco, then he’ll be okay with their reactions.
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Acts of Life