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Nova Cupiditas	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37321 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter
Twenty-Eight--In Four-Quarters Time

�� Harry
licked his lips nervously as he began the firecall to Malfoy Manor. He wasn't
sure their Floos would still be open to him, or that Draco would answer if they
were. He cringed when he thought about either of the Malfoy parents appearing.

�� So he
winced outright when Narcissa Malfoy's face hovered in the flames, not the less
regal for being mostly green.

�� "Um,
Mrs. Malfoy?" Harry asked, winced again at the elaborate politeness of his
tone because it sounded so false, and did his best to sound relaxed and simple
without actually sounding simple-minded. "This is Harry Potter. I wanted
to speak to your son, if he was home."

�� Narcissa
studied him in silence for some time, then inclined her head. "Yes, he
is," she said. She hadn't smiled yet, but she hadn't cursed him either, so
Harry reckoned that was a good sign. "We had expected an owl from you, but
a firecall is as well. I shall have a house-elf fetch him." She turned her
head briefly aside, presumably to say something to the elf.

�� Harry told
himself that he hadn't really expected
her to go get Draco herself, which would have given him a brief break to gather
his senses, and rubbed his palms on the legs of his trousers, hoping that she
wouldn't notice. Nor did she appear to. Instead, Narcissa knelt there in silent
grace, watching him with bright, tranquil eyes. She didn't smile, no, but
neither did she seem upset.

�� "Um,"
Harry said at last, and promptly wished he could take his wand to his own
temple. "Does this mean that you've accepted what's going on between me
and Draco, Mrs. Malfoy?" Or is Draco
going to come down and tell me that he's getting married and this attempt to be
together is off?

�� The deep
devastation, black and threatening, that filled him at that thought convinced
Harry more than ever that he was doing the right thing with his attempt.

�� Mrs. Malfoy
bestowed a chilly smile on him, at last. "His father would have opposed
it," she said simply. "It is not what we wished for our son, of
course."

�� "Er, I
know," Harry said, still clinging to hope because of the word would. That suggested Lucius hadn't
actually opposed it.

�� "But
Draco did remind us that reality does not always correspond to our
wishes." Narcissa settled himself more comfortably on the floor, her robes
spread around her like skirts. "In a more gracious manner than I had
expected, given the nature of his father's opposition. We must therefore learn
to accept his choices as graciously, or risk looking ill-bred."

�� Potentially the worst of fates, for a
Malfoy, Harry thought, and hoped that his smile wasn't too ill-bred.
"That's wonderful," he said, and then, because the silence she exuded
seemed to wait to be filled and he wasn't as comfortable with her as with
Draco, he said, "I really do think that I'm in love with him, Mrs.
Malfoy."

�� "How
nice of you to admit that to my mother first and not to me," said an icy
voice from beyond her.

�� Harry
winced. Shit. He was forever doing
something wrong, and he suffered a brief spasm of doubt that this was going to
work, despite all his good intentions, despite all that Draco had declared the
other day about not intending to let him back away.

�� Then he
shook his head. It would work because of both their determination. They would
tear each other apart, maybe, but it had gone too far for them to just walk
away and hope that that would be enough.

�� "Sorry,"
he said, craning his head back in the hopes that that would let him see Draco
over Narcissa. "I didn't see you standing there."

*

�� "I
really do think that I'm in love with him, Mrs. Malfoy."

�� It wasn't
that Draco didn't stop when the words came to him, and that he didn't feel a
mixture of smugness and triumph washing through him like blended spices. It was
the fact that Harry had said that as a secondary confession instead of to him, first.

�� Still afraid of actually facing his
feelings, isn't he?

�� "How
nice of you to admit that to my mother first and not to me," he said, and
stepped around his mother, who gave way to him with a faint, amused smile, so
Harry could see him. From the startled way Harry's head jerked up, he really
had had no idea that Draco had been there.

�� Which only
made it more wrong that he had chosen his feelings, of all things, for the topic
of casual conversation with Draco's mother.

�� "Sorry,"
Harry mumbled. "I didn't see you standing there."

�� "I
know," Draco said, and took his mother's place, staring at Harry as he
hovered in the fire. He felt emotions wash over him once more, the complicated
mixture of lust, exasperation, hatred, anger, and pleasure that he had felt in
smaller portions over the last day, as he thought of Harry instead of seeing
him. "I doubt you would have said it if you did."

�� Harry's
nostrils flared, and he bowed his head like a bull about to charge. Draco
paused. He hadn't got that particular reaction before when he said things that
were far more scathing.

�� "I've
been thinking about this," Harry said, softly, intensely. Draco noted from
the corner of his eye that his mother had left the room, as she should have,
but he couldn't look away from Harry's gaze. "I don't want to just roll
over and show my belly when you accuse me. Some of this I'm guilty of, but not
all of it."

�� Draco
folded his arms. The emotions in his stomach turned to a thick, rolling ball.
"Really?" he breathed. "You think that you deserve to get away
with the self-justifying shite you have so far?"

�� "I did
say that some of your accusations were right." Harry's stare was
immovable. "But I won't always agree that you were right and cower in fear
of your disapproval. If you think you'll control the relationship that way,
then I'm going to deprive you of that illusion right now."

�� Draco ran
his tongue over his lips. "Why don't you tell me what else is going to
happen," he asked, "since you seem so confident?"

�� "I'm
going to check to make sure that the curse is gone," Harry said firmly,
"and that the expression you're staring at me with right now doesn't have
anything to do with it."

�� "Of
course," Draco said, with a quick flash of bitterness that transmuted
several of the emotions he was feeling. "Still hiding behind the curse,
still acting as though it's the only thing that can justify what I feel."

�� Harry
rolled his eyes. "It's not hiding
behind it to want to make sure it's gone, you bastard. Besides, I want to
make sure that none of the passion you'll feel when I fuck you is artificial.
Which means no drink to get up your courage and no aphrodisiac potions,
either," he added as an afterthought.

�� Draco sat
up straight, his veins ringing with desire that ate the other emotions.
"If you think that I need that," he began.

�� "I've
heard about your sexual conquests before the curse began," Harry said.
"Several times, over the last several days. Ron wanted to make sure that I
knew before I 'took up' with you. I don't think that one wizard could have made
that many conquests without some liquid assistance, at times."

�� Draco
laughed aloud, in both fury and delight. This
was what he had dreamed of, Harry challenging him instead of laying back
and taking whatever Draco or fate handed him. Harry making some attempt to
grasp the treasures laid out before him, and not refusing timidly, out of fear
that he might hurt someone.

�� "You
make a lot of assumptions," he said. "That all the tales are true.
That I needed potions to seduce people. That you're going to be the one fucking
me."

�� Harry
clenched his hands in front of him as if it took a lot for him to refrain from
reaching through the fire and grabbing Draco. Draco opened his mouth to urge
him on, but Harry spoke before he could. "Fine. Then it was drink, wasn't
it? And a potion to make sure that you could perform once you had someone in
bed with you. Pardon me, that is a
fine distinction."

�� Draco
leaned forwards until he almost bumped his head on the bricks surrounding the
hearth. "If you think that," he breathed, "then you ought to
come here right now, while you know I'm sober, and give me a chance to try
it."

�� Harry's
eyes widened with piercing excitement, and Draco thought for a moment he would
do it. Then Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Really? You think I'm that stupid? I know that you think I'm
pathetic, masochistic, desperate for someone else to make decisions. Coming
through right now would just confirm your opinion of me."

�� Draco
grimaced. He had thought sometimes that his own words would come back to bite
him, but he had to admit, he hadn't thought it would be in quite this dramatic
a manner. "I can think that you're full of faults and still want you."

�� "Of
course." Harry had a sharp bitterness in his voice now. "Nothing
wrong with my body, after all."

�� "You
think that I'm going to fuck you and then leave?" Draco raised one eyebrow
in disdain. "We've come a little far for that."

�� "Oh,
no," Harry said. "I do think you'll stay to fuck a second time. Maybe
even a third. But how can you trust me? Because I'll take your words and twist
them around. How can you want to be with me? Because you know that I'll
sacrifice my time with you the instant someone else needs me. How can you take
any pride in being with someone who's more intelligent than he used to be? Because
you know that my research is only a hobby, and you'll always be reminded of the
pain I caused you and how long it took to cure you."

�� Draco leaned
back with his eyes narrowed. The terms of their conversation had shifted, and
he had to understand how before he said anything else.

�� "My
words stung you," he said. "But you know that I didn't expect you to
believe every one of them and simply roll over and surrender. Why are you
saying these things now?"

�� "Because
I'm trying to change," Harry said grimly, "but you must know that the
change isn't going to happen overnight, and that there'll always be the chance
that I missed a spot. You know that.
I want to know what you expect me to do about it. Are you going to attack with
the same devastating outrage every time I make a mistake? Because I can put up
with that for a little while, but I'll give up eventually. You must know that I
can't stay with someone who constantly criticizes me and does nothing else, not
if I'm going to try and be the self-confident person you'd like me to be. If I
just take your criticism and like it, I'm masochistic again and you'll be
bored."

�� "Your
contacting me shows that you're taking some initiative, not just sitting back
and waiting for other people to make decisions," Draco said slowly,
picking his way through the unexpected boneyard that had opened up in front of
him. "And I can see that you want me. You made a mistake by telling my
mother that you loved me first instead of me, but you didn't endlessly
apologize for it. Those things are different. Your incessant guilt isn't,"
he had to add. "You're still more worried about the pain that you'll
inflict on me than about what you'll inflict on yourself."

*

�� Harry knew
that last wasn't true, but he had no idea how to deny the accusation without
sounding like a selfish bastard. Or being
one, in fact. His stomach was already twisted up in knots, and he was
watching Draco's face endlessly, for fear that he might have stung him with
some words that hurt too much and would have to be taken back.

�� He forced a
deep breath through his lungs and reminded himself, again, that Draco was a big
boy and could stand up for himself. If anything Harry said was too much, then
Draco would walk away. He wouldn't stand there and take the pain because he
believed he deserved it, which was what he thought Harry did.

�� I'm trying not to.

�� "I'm
not entirely guilty," he said. "You're right, I would be apologizing
otherwise. I still don't want to hurt you, Draco, but I won't make avoiding
that the center of my life." He paused, then added before he could think
too much about it and spoil the symmetry of the words that had come into his
mind, "And if you make hurting me your
center, then I'll walk away."

�� Draco's
eyes shone, and he reached out one hand as if he had forgotten that a barrier
of flames separated them. He pulled it back with a shake of his head, but his
gaze never wavered from Harry. "Very good," he said softly.
"That was what I wanted. For you to think about it and then start fighting
back, eventually."

�� "It
didn't sound like that when you first spoke the words," Harry pointed out.
Since Hermione had been there to hear the fight, she had been on Harry night
and day about the words Draco used, his tone of vicious pleasure, and her own
conviction that Draco just wanted to punish Harry for having been there to
witness his embarrassment and his weakness in the face of the curse.

�� Draco
rolled his eyes. "Of course not. I was rejoicing in being free of the
curse and able to speak those words
and have you listen, just then, instead of blaming it on a reflection of your
own emotions. It doesn't mean that I believe all those things, all the
time." He stared at Harry and added, "But enough of them to make a
difference, if you don't intend to change anything."

�� "Some
things," Harry said. "Not all."

�� Draco bared
his teeth. "And I believe I told you that pleases me. Having someone who
rolls over submissively for me every time we disagree is no fun."

�� "Had a
lot of that, have you?" Harry muttered, barely loud enough to be heard.

�� Draco
widened his lips around his bared teeth in something that you could call a
smile, if you were stupid, and Harry wasn't. Most of the time, anyway.
"Enough to know I don't like it," he said with calm that Harry knew
was feigned. He'd been around Draco a lot in the past few weeks. He recognized
the jumping of his pulse and the way that color flooded his cheeks, even the
way his eyes focused. Draco was aroused. "If you're going to offer me
something different, get over here and do it."

�� Harry
laughed at him. Something was stirring in his head and his heart, something so
foreign that it took him a moment to recognize it as hot, giddy enjoyment.
"Really? But that would be submissive."

�� Draco
stared at him. "I see I'll have to endlessly watch my tongue."

�� Harry
smiled in contentment.

�� "Then
come for another reason." Draco was suddenly serious, or near enough to it
not to make a difference, stretching his hand out again and letting his fingers
hover just beyond the flames. "You still have to examine me and make sure
the signs of the curse are fading, don't you?"

�� His lips
curled up, and his face shone like a wolf's that had just seen the tracks of
the prey it wanted to devour.

�� Harry
gasped as his own desire tossed him to the top of a scalding wave. He had to
swallow twice before he could answer, and then his voice was more breathless
than he liked. "Yes, of course I have to do that."

�� "Then come through." Draco practically
bit off the last word, and stretched his hand out as though he wanted to snatch
Harry this time and drag him through the fire, willing or not.

�� Harry
smiled, and reached out, answering back.

�� The lurch
through the Floo was nothing like normal. As always, Harry wanted to pause and
make sure that he didn't have soot on his robes or dust on his glasses, but
this time, Draco bore him off his feet, pressing him back against the mantle as
he kissed, urgently, his eyes falling shut in the excess of his desire.

�� Harry
moaned and opened his mouth, his tongue answering Draco's with a curl and a
dash and a clash of teeth. He could barely breathe, but for a few moments, that
wasn't important, as Draco's hands tightened on his arms and his saliva
replaced Harry's air. Harry could feel his heart pounding as urgently as though
he was running a race or struggling for his life.

�� In a way,
he was. This was the end of a long, harsh struggle, the culmination of what he
wanted.

�� And if he
had to snatch the moment to cast the spell that would tell him the curse was
gone, seeing only clear air instead of black or red shimmering around Draco's
shoulders, well, at least it was done and he could be reassured.

�� Draco
pulled back from him, eyes shaded, fighting towards seriousness and not getting
there. His hands were full of Harry's shoulders and arse, and Harry couldn't
take his out of Draco's hair. He tugged, and Draco let his head fall back with
a light groan that he bit off almost as soon as he made it. His eyes were
furious, searching Harry's face as though the sight of Harry made him want to
destroy things.

�� "This
is the way it's going to work," he said, voice rough with passion.
"You are going to let me do what I want."

�� "And
that's exactly the kind of submission you said you didn't want," Harry snapped back, leaning on the fireplace as
he panted. He had to get his wits back, had
to, or he thought Draco would chew straight through him and leave only the
husk. "Make up your mind."

�� Draco tore
one hand free of Harry's shoulder to slam into stone and wood, or maybe to pin
him there; Harry could still feel the impress of those burning fingers on his
skin. "You're going to give in," he said. "That's not
submission, not if you choose it."

�� "You
usually have partners who don't choose
to submit to you, then?" Harry asked. "My, my, what kinky
tastes."

�� Draco's
eyes darkened as if someone had blown smoke into them. Harry found himself
smiling. He didn't know why, exactly.
This kind of teasing could be dangerous for him, for the both of them. And it
was skirting the edge of issues that it might be better not to raise when they
were so close to having sex at last.

�� But if this
was the real Draco, the one not under the curse, then Harry thought this might
be his real self, too, or at least
the one Draco roused in him. They would both have to learn to live with someone
less than perfect.

�� "You
know exactly what I mean." Draco's hands were full of his hair now,
gripping, tugging, and squeezing in a way that wasn't soothing. Harry had to
fight not to close his eyes against Draco's stare. "And I'll thank you to
stop pretending that you don't." He bent his head and kissed Harry once
more, stabbing his tongue into Harry's mouth, pressing him against the mantle
again, as if his one goal was to ensure that Harry carried home bruises on his
back.

�� Harry tried
to give as good as he got, but his position and the sheer force Draco was using
made it difficult. Things were easier once he got a grip on Draco's shoulders
and twisted so that he could shove Draco back a step or two and breathe on his
ear.

�� "Yes,"
he said, or rather breathed, while Draco squirmed in his grip and stared at him
and tried his best not to pant. That he came as close as he did to panting was,
Harry thought, entirely due to the wonderful things that Harry was doing as he
slid a hand down Draco's spine to his arse and grabbed a handful of it. "I
know what you want. The question is whether you'll get all of it or only
half." Again, he breathed, and when Draco moaned, mouth open, eyes part-drowned
in black, Harry bit down neatly on his earlobe.

�� Draco
hissed and then turned on him, wrestling him down to the floor. Harry went with
it, amused and convinced that he could stand back up again whenever he wanted.
But once the floor was against his back, Draco crouched over him, staring with
eyes so wide that Harry wriggled and turned his head away, and when he heaved
upwards, there seemed to be too much strength in Draco's limbs.

�� "I
intend to take what you give me," Draco said. "And a little bit
more."

�� This time,
he was the one who bent his mouth to Harry's throat, and Harry was the one who
bent back, helplessly giving him access, his fingers opening and closing in
useless motions against the back of Draco's head.

*

�� Draco was
so full of desire that it had become pain.

�� He wanted
to suck Harry, bite him, fuck him until they were both exhausted, hold him
down, and tease him until Harry let his magic go in sheer insanity. All the
conflicting longings washed back and forth like seawater, and Draco whined and
was ashamed of it, burying the sound in fierce bites to Harry's neck.

�� Harry
whined back, and Draco was vaguely reassured that he sounded neither as animal
nor as weak as he had feared. He leaned back on his heels, licked his lips, and
pressed a hand to Harry's collarbone to hold him down when he would have risen.
Harry blinked back at him, more than confused.

�� "I'm
going to take you," Draco said. "But not here."

�� "So
many promises, so few actions," Harry said, and gave Draco a smirk that
said he knew exactly what kind of challenge he was issuing.

�� Draco still
couldn't let him get away with it.

�� He
scratched Harry's chest hard enough to make him hiss from the burn, and then
bit his neck again. Biting in a certain place, he found, made Harry go limp and
soft, and scratching the side of his scalp, raking his fingers through Harry's
hair, made him utter a buzzing sound that Draco didn't think he was fully
conscious of making. Harry didn't seem to notice the Lightening Charm Draco
cast, nor the way that Draco scooped him up and deftly relieved him of his
wand.

�� At least,
he didn't notice until Draco tossed him down in the middle of his large bed in
the middle of his even larger bedroom.

�� "What--"
Harry whispered and turned his head from side to side as though the bedroom
would turn back into the room where he had come through the Floo connection
just because he wished it would. "What are you doing?"

�� "Fucking
you," Draco said succinctly, because he was done with games, and cast a
spell that deprived them both of their clothes.

�� The way
that Harry's eyes widened and darkened was extremely arousing, and Draco had
meant his earlier thought that he was done with the games. He tossed the wand
away and crawled into bed with Harry.

�� Harry
reached out for him, and Draco bowed his head into the bites and kisses that
followed, more than prepared to drown.

�� And be
drowned in return.

*

�� Review responses can be found at
http://lomonaaerenrr.livejournal.com/13634.html
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