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The Stag and The Snake	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Chapter 14 – I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Draco was doubted he would ever grow used to waking to the sight of Harry curled into him. The weeks back home had brought out an amazing change in his lover, and Harry had finally begun to look something like himself again. Draco watched his dark-haired lover sleep, a faint smile ghosting across his lips. No longer were Harry's cheeks hollowed with his bones jutting out from beneath his skin, nor was his expression a gaunt shadow of its former self. He had filled out, wiry muscle replacing what had once been almost nothing but skin and bone. His skin had regained its healthy glow, and the sallow tint of his skin had been replaced by a healthy golden hue.

Draco reached forward, his fingers ghosting over Harry's jaw line, and he automatically leaned into Draco's touch with a sigh of contentment. More remarkable still was Harry's recovering mental state. Draco doubted that Harry would ever recover completely what he'd experienced at the hands of his tormentor, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Harry was determined to not let the memory of Snape overshadow his life, and he forced himself forward so strongly that Draco, along with Sirius and Remus had to remind him to slow down on more than one occasion.

“You don't need to rush,” Draco recalled telling him more than once, “you can do this at your own pace, Harry.” Harry would huff in frustration, but nod to the sentiment in a defeated sort of way.

Following Harry's first disastrous visit with Molly Weasley some weeks earlier, Harry had made slow, but steady progress toward not losing himself when he was touched unexpectedly. Draco could still see him tense when someone would rush to him and grasp his hand or clap him on the back, but no longer did he bolt or dissolve into a haze of panic. Draco felt his heart swell with pride every time he saw Harry get a little better.

But for all his progress, Harry still had his fair share of setbacks. Draco had been extremely cautious about doing or saying anything that might cause Harry to relapse into panicked memory. Unfortunately, his reactions to certain things were sometimes unexpected; such as when he learned that Harry could no longer stand the scent of wildflowers.

This information came to light when Granger had sent a bouquet to the flat by owl-order. Draco supposed she had intended it as a 'get well' gift, but Harry had spent an hour in the loo, heaving into the toilet as a result of her crass mistake. Draco burned the flowers and went from room to room dissipating the smell until he was certain that the odour was completely gone.

This violent reaction greatly concerned Draco, but he did not bring it up. He had initially waited for Harry to discuss it with him, but when Harry acted as though the incident had never happened, he did not push. Part of him knew that not addressing the issue would probably do more harm than good, but he couldn't bear to see that terrified look in his lover's eyes again.

Lost in memory, Draco did not immediately realize that Harry had woken up, that is, until he felt a pair of lips pressing tenderly against his own. Draco started slightly, and he felt Harry's warm breath tickle his mouth as he laughed softly. “Did I scare you?” Harry was grinning, a look Draco mirrored as he shifted closer and kissed Harry with the same level of tenderness. He broke the kiss reluctantly, and ran the back of his knuckles across Harry's stubbled jaw.

“As far as scary wake-up calls go, this would not be one of them.” Draco smirked and Harry laughed softly.

Without anyone saying anything, Draco had more or less moved into the flat. Remus and Sirius didn't seem to mind his presence, though his parents were somewhat horrified at the concept of him willingly living in such a place. Apparently, living in a flat with only one bathroom and no ballroom was equivalent to a hovel, in their eyes at least. Most of Draco's possessions were still back at the Manor, but his broomstick and clothes had migrated over to the flat.

Unlike his parents who regarded the whole thing as something scandalous, Remus and Sirius were bordering on barely-controlled glee. Draco knew part of their approval of his presence stemmed from their desire to keep Harry happy, almost to the point of spoiling him. Draco was fairly certain that if Harry had asked them for a lifetime supply of chocolate frogs, they would have done it. Used to growing up and getting anything he wanted, Draco found it endearing how humble Harry still was, requiring nothing more than the presence of his parents, his friends, and, of course, Draco.

The couple laid in bed for another hour, talking quietly, trading tender kisses, and enjoying the company of the other. The smell of cooking bacon was their hint to get ready for breakfast, and Harry grabbed an armful of clothes, slipping out of the room and heading to the loo.

Draco stretched out on the bed, in no rush to get up and face the day. He observed the patterns of sunlight against the far wall that fluttered through the curtains, and not for the first time he marvelled at how calm and happy he felt. After everything that had happened, it still amazed him that now they were nothing more than a memory. He lifted a hand, the warm sun's rays dancing across his palm, his mind blissfully thinking happy non-thoughts while he waited for his lover to finish.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry re-emerged barefoot in jeans and a red t-shirt, his hair still a little damp. “Oh, does this mean I need to get up?” He grinned at Harry, who laughed in response.

“Not necessarily,” he grinned mischievously, “we could—” but whatever Harry thought they could do was cut off by Sirius's voice filtering in from the kitchen.

“Harry you can defile the only Malfoy heir later, breakfast is ready!” Draco snorted, while Harry went bright red. He pulled himself up, grabbed his necessary morning things and a change of clothes, pausing to kiss his embarrassed lover with a knowing smirk before taking his turn with a morning wash.

He joined the others twenty minutes later, dressed in a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of black slacks. The breakfast spread had been laid out and charmed to stay hot and untouched until he had joined them, and a strange warmth rested in the pit of Draco's stomach at the sight. He felt a closeness, a familial bond with these people that he'd never experienced so strongly with his own parents. He wasn't sure whether he should feel pleased or guilty at the thought.

Draco sat down next to Harry, and at once the fingers of Harry's left hand intertwined with Draco's right. Draco felt a faint flush creep up his neck when the two older wizards exchanged a knowing look, but they didn't comment.

“What are your plans for today?” Remus asked conversationally while the small, knowing smile never left his face. Draco fought hard to hide his blush, to little effect. He knew full well what he'd like to do, but he was still waiting for Harry to instigate things. After all Harry had been through, Draco refused to even nudge him towards anything he wasn't ready to do.

“I hadn't thought that far ahead,” Harry said thickly around a mouthful of scrambled egg. Draco grimaced at Harry's Weasleyish table manners, but he didn't seem to notice the disapproving look and pressed on. “I mean, now that things are starting to calm down, I was thinking maybe I should start looking for a job, or...something.” He chased down his food with a sip of his coffee. Silence followed his words, and Draco exchanged a nervous glance with the pair across from him. As the silence stretched on, Harry's brow furrowed. "What?"

“Are you sure you're ready for that?” Harry turned towards Draco and frowned a little. “I mean, it's barely been three months since...everything.” He chewed on the side of his lip, battling between his desire for Harry to have a normal life, and a fierce desire to shield him from the world. “Don't you think you need a little more time to, erm...” He trailed off, looking to Sirius and Remus for support, but they seemed to be at something of a loss.

“You've made remarkable progress Harry,” Remus interjected, breaking the tense silence, “but you don't want to rush back into the world, only to have things fall apart. If you really want to find a job, maybe something small to start, part time, or at weekends.” The words didn't placate Harry as much as Remus had obviously hoped that they would, and instead he turned away, frowning a little.

“I just...I can't let Snape win,” Harry said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can't. I need to do something. I need to have my life back.”

“He hasn't won,” Draco said as gently as he could, reaching back out to take one of Harry's hands, but he pulled away. The action made Draco's stomach twist, but he didn't push it. “Harry, he can only win if you let him win. If it takes you two weeks or two years to get back into the world, it doesn't matter. You need to do it at your own pace.” Harry turned back to look at them, but he still looked absolutely miserable. Draco reached forward again and this time Harry allowed him to take his hand. “Tell you what, why don't we go to Weasley and Granger's house...thing? It's not a job, but it's a start, don't you think?”

“I thought you didn't want to go to the...how did you phrase it? Hetero Hop?” Draco struggled to hide his embarrassed smile. He knew that phrase would eventually come back to haunt him.

“It's a housewarming you two, not some depraved Heterosexual Mating Ritual.” He and Harry snorted at Remus's words, and even Sirius barked a laugh.

~*~

Despite Remus's comment at breakfast, Harry really did feel like he'd been thrown in some sort of Heterosexual Ritual, of sorts. Living with his lover and his parents, he had genuinely forgotten that Heterosexuality was still the majority. Looking around, the party seemed to be made of nothing but straight couples. It felt very strange, and the furtive glances shot in his direction did not help to ease his mind.
Of course, no one would pass judgments on him, but it was still unsettling to be the only same-sex couple in the room. He almost felt as though he was walking around under a spotlight. His and Draco's choice to wear muggle garb instead of wizard robes only added to the distinct odd-one-out feeling. Even the muggle-borns were eyeing them strangely.

Ron and Hermione's new house was in a predominantly Muggle neighbourhood, and the guests were almost exclusively Gryffindor alumni. Draco's hand had tensed in his own, and Harry squeezed it in what he hoped seemed to be a reassuring manner. Harry was not ignorant to the distrustful glances Draco was being shot. He felt shaken by the looks, though he had no idea how to defend his lover. Harry's stomach knotted up, feeling utterly pathetic. Not for the first time, he cursed the memory of Snape, and how he had managed to turn him into this meek, fearful shadow of his former self.

Harry swallowed thickly, attempting to force his mind to remain present as he wove through the crowd. The last few parties he'd been at hadn't exactly ended well, and he could already feel his panic creeping up on him. Draco seemed to sense this and he took control, leading Harry out of the crowded front room. He wove through the house and toward the nearly empty kitchen. Harry sat down heavily at the little round table, and buried his face in his hands.

“I'm not so sure this was such a good idea,” he mumbled, his words muffled by his hands. He heard the scraping of the chair next to him, and Draco's knee knocked against his own. He looked up to find Draco studying him in contemplative silence.

“We can go, if you don't feel you can handle it,” Draco said softly. He reached forward and took Harry's hands, brushing his thumbs over the sides of them. The small contact made some of his anxiety recede. Harry never thought he'd ever stop being grateful for Draco. He smiled weakly, and he felt warmth spread through him from their clasped hands.

“I don't know what I want,” he replied with a huff, “maybe that's part of the problem.” He glanced away from his lover, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened to the nonsensical buzz of conversation bleeding from the front room. Harry was slightly peeved that Ron and Hermione had barely stuck around for more than a quick greeting when they arrived, before being whisked away by some of the other Weasleys. Harry had not yet been able to shake the scathing look some of the gingers had shot Draco's way. For all his lover had done for him, he hated that he was still so deeply distrusted. He wondered again what had happened between the Weasleys and Draco to cause the ever-present animosity that none of them bothered to hide. Ron was slightly more tactful than his siblings, though not by much. Harry hadn't seen his best mate exchange more than two words with Draco since he'd gotten back.

“Well, let's start small then,” Draco's open, easy smile was so forced, it made Harry's heart ache for him. It was clear that he didn't want to be here, and Harry was beginning to wonder if it was worth sticking around. “Do you want a drink?” Harry smiled a little, uncertain whether or not he should be offended by Draco's mollycoddling, but in the end he decided to humour his partner.

“All right,” Harry said, standing up and mirroring Draco's smile, though he felt as though the corners of his mouth could barely tug upward. He was still a little shaky, but Draco's presence was as grounding as ever, and it made Harry feel like he could get through the evening. Draco smiled again, and they dove back into the fray. Draco paused by the snacks table and Harry had to laugh as he scoffed a little at the drink choices. Harry couldn't exactly blame him: Butterbeer? Really? While he liked the stuff, it did seem a little juvenile at a housewarming, of all things. Draco's trademark smirk crossed his features as he reached for a pair of bottles, though he stopped short when a scathing voice shot their way.

“Got somethin' to say, Malfoy?” Harry and Draco turned, only to see Seamus Finnegan staggering towards them. How Harry's ex-classmate could be so well lit on Butterbeer was beyond him. They exchanged mystified looks, and Draco's mouth twitched into a conniving smirk, while Harry glared at him giving him a clear don't-you-dare-start-anything look.

“Not at all,” Draco said, much more politely than Harry had expected. “I'm just admiring the choice selection of beverages Weasley has broken out for the occasion. Very posh. I must say, I'm impressed.” Seamus stopped short, seemingly uncertain whether Draco had insulted Ron or not. Harry grabbed the necks of two bottles in one hand, and dragged Draco away with the other before Seamus had a chance to work out what he'd said. He kept his jaw locked, trying to keep from snickering at Draco's remark.

“Remind me to never take you to a Gryffindor soirée ever again.” Harry muttered when they reached the hall, but he couldn't keep the amused grin off his face. He offered one of the bottles to Draco, which he gladly accepted. They sat on carpeted stairs and nursed their drinks in comfortable silence. Harry finally began to relax, and almost as though they'd read the mind of the other, they reached out simultaneously with their free hands and laced their fingers together. Harry leaned against Draco's shoulder, and they pointedly ignored the other guests, though Harry shot nasty, almost Malfoy-esque looks in the direction of anyone who dared give his lover a look that even bordered on disapproval.

“Harry, Draco, there you are!” Harry looked up at the sound of his name and smiled a little tiredly. The evening had proved to be much more exhausting than he had expected.

“Hey Hermione,” he said, trying to make his voice sound more animated than he felt. “Great party. Congratulations on the house.”

“Thanks Harry,” she beamed, looking back out to the crowded front room, and back to them. Things were still more than a little awkward on both ends, but Harry had to give Hermione credit for trying to hard to keep their friendship alive. “Are you all right? I haven't seen you two talk to anyone all night.”

“Seamus made us feel a little less than welcome,” he replied, ignoring the shut-up-right-now look Draco was giving him. Hermione frowned at his words, and she glanced back towards the front room. Harry could see Ron and Seamus talking and laughing animatedly, and his grip on Draco's hand tightened. Hermione did not miss the exchange, and she looked absolutely heartbroken. Harry did his best to ignore the pitying look she was giving them, but he still felt a weird twist in his gut. He didn't like the feeling, but how could he verbalize what he was feeling without hurting Hermione's feelings?

“Oh Draco,” she said, her voice sounding close to tears. Harry looked at his partner, and Draco winced a little as though he enjoyed Hermione's sympathetic look and tone as much as Harry did. “You know we want you here, don't you? You're practically family.” She seemed genuinely distressed, though at the same time she seemed to have no idea how to address the issue.

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line, as though he was struggling to swallow a few choice insults. At the same time, Harry seriously doubted the 'we' pronoun she had used, and he suspected it was born of habit rather than genuine feeling. Ron's short greeting at the door earlier and his quick escape into the throng of Gryffindors was enough to make Harry suspicious, but his reluctance to even meet Draco's eye confirmed what he suspected.

“It's fine Granger,” Draco said. His tone was cold and even, giving away none of his true feeling one way or the other. “I expected no warmer a welcome, don't get too wound up about it.” He turned his gaze away from her and back to Harry, offering him a small smile as though he was trying to reassure him. Despite this attempt, Harry still felt incredibly guilty that Draco had decided to put up with an evening of being surrounded by vaguely hostile and vaguely drunk Gryffindors in an attempt to help through everything. He felt both a swell of love for the man one step below him, and terrible guilt for putting him through this. Harry stood, pulling Draco with him. The movement clearly surprised his blond companion, but he moved smoothly as though he had been expecting it.

“We better get going anyway Hermione,” he said, smiling pleasantly as he descended the few steps and let go of Draco to hug her. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“Oh, but...” Hermione accepted the hug, but the sudden announcement seemed to have left her a little thrown. Whatever she was about to say seemed to die in her throat, and her expression rearranged itself into a friendly smile. “All right. I'll let Ron know. Maybe we can get together sometime this week, something less...crowded?” Harry nodded a little, forcing himself to smile faintly.

“Definitely.” He bid her goodbye with a small half-wave, grabbed Draco's hand, and slipped out of the doors before anyone noticed that they'd gone.

~*~
“Well, that was an unmitigated disaster,” Harry said, tilting his head back as he stared up at the clear night sky. Draco smiled, and he felt some of his tension leaving him as they cleared the property line. He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close, leaning in to kiss the edge of his jaw, eliciting an amused chuckle from him.
“You could say that,” Draco replied, smirking bitterly. He looked away as they continued down the sidewalk, his arm still draped over Harry's shoulders. “I forgot how warm and welcoming you lot can be.” Harry huffed a laugh, but made no move to defend his former house, which surprised Draco.

“If I'd known that'd happen, I never would've let you talk me into coming.” He frowned a little, and moved to wrap his arm around Draco's waist. The small movement made Draco feel delightfully warm. “You know, you don't have to put up with that Gryffindor bullshit.” Harry leaned in and pressed his head against Draco's shoulder, and the sudden movement made them swerve slightly on the sidewalk. “Some grudges never die, I suppose.”

“I think that's fairly obvious after our reception this evening,” Draco replied, wondering belatedly if Harry had noticed the looks he'd been given throughout the evening, or if he was too hyperaware of Draco to notice. It was a look he knew well: traitor. Did these brainless gits seriously think Harry had betrayed them by throwing in his lot with a Malfoy? He couldn't pinpoint how he felt about that, beyond a strong desire to backtrack and curse everyone in attendance, save perhaps Granger.

Harry stopped suddenly, and Draco stumbled forward in surprise. Harry grabbed him to keep him from falling, and Draco turned to face his partner. There was a strange, determined gleam in Harry's eye. He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, and pulled him in for a hard, passionate kiss.

The ferocity of it startled Draco somewhat. It was more intense than anything they had shared following his rescue, and while part of him was practically cheering in response, another part of him hesitated, worried about pushing Harry too far, even unintentionally.

His desire for Harry won out, and he curled his arms around Harry's waist, pulling him closer. Harry reached up and ran his fingers through Draco's hair. Draco sighed into the kiss, parting his lips a little as Harry mirrored his actions, their tongues tasting each other for the first time in what felt like ages. Draco felt Harry moan softly into his mouth, and a shudder ran through him, but Harry did not stop or even give pause to his actions. Hating himself more than a little, he broke the kiss reluctantly.

“We need to stop,” he murmured hoarsely, unwilling to untangle himself from Harry just yet. “Unless you wish me to make a right mess of my new trousers.” Harry grinned almost devilishly, and tugged Draco towards their Apparition spot.

“Come on,” he said, Harry's voice as thick and gruff as his own. “I have it on good authority that Sirius and Remus won't be home 'til late tonight.” His lover's enthusiasm rubbed off on him, and Draco's mouth curled into a grin. They hurried to the Apparition spot, just short of running.
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