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White Roses	By : Lena18 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 1791 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, and I hold no
legal claim over Harry Potter or any associated characters. This piece of fan
fiction is merely for my own amusement, and possibly others. No profit is being
made, and no copyright fringe is intended.

Rating: M

Author�s Note: I�m having some issues with the
upcoming fourth chapter, so you�re going to have to bear with me while I
attempt to make it come out the way I want it. But for now we�ve got the lovely
third chapter in my little story, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter 3 � Friends
and Other Complications

Flashback. April 22, 2005. Three weeks after the �incident� at the
motel.

Draco groaned into his pillow case. It had been a long time
since he had felt this angry. He was angry with Potter, the world, but mostly
angry at himself. He had told himself a million times that it couldn�t happen
again. He had no clue what had possessed him that night at the motel, but if
his role in this war was to remain out of jeopardy then it couldn�t happen
again. He had to remind himself sometimes, about the war. The very idea of war
had loomed on the horizon for so many years that its newfound presence in
reality seemed somehow unreal. But it was something he had to acknowledge, just
as he had to acknowledge that Potter and this war were linked in ways he
couldn�t begin to comprehend. Everyone had faith in Potter,
everyone was expecting Potter to end Voldemort once
and for all. This just so happened to make him #1 on Voldemort�s
hit list. Which meant that anyone who so much as smiled at the other boy could
end up dead 24 hours later. He shuddered to think at what would be done to
someone found shagging him. If he were to hazard a guess, torture would
probably be involved. Lots of torture. Potter was just
an utterly impractical attachment that he couldn�t afford to indulge.

Draco had told himself these things over and over again. He
did not see why he continued to fixate on that one night. Consciously, he
attempted to push the boy from his mind. But his subconscious brought him vivid
images of Potter on a nightly basis. Dreams in which Draco relived that night
over and over, tasting Potter�s flesh and watching the raven-haired boy biting
his lip to keep from crying out. The last time he had reported to his father at
Malfoy manor, he had spent three hours searching the
library for possible hexes or curses he could be under the influence of. It was
a ridiculous notion that Draco soon dismissed, admitting finally that the
culprit was more likely his hormones.

He blamed his hormones for what had happened earlier today.
Something that never should have happened, which anyone in their right mind
would have immediately seen. It had been a perfectly ordinary day at the
ministry. He�d spent all morning researching counter-jinxes to be used against
the Incarcerous incantation. It was a complete waste
of time, and Draco knew it. Basically, this was the ministry�s way of keeping
him busy while keeping an eye on him at the same time. No one really trusted
him, which was just fine because Draco didn�t trust them either. But in a weird
way, he trusted Potter. He trusted that Potter would win them the war, because
that was just the sort of thing that the Gryffindor did. He won. All of the
time, which had been a constant source of annoyance back at Hogwarts. Draco
wasn�t stupid though. If it would save his life, then Draco was willing to
sacrifice a bit of his pride. This was the decision he had come to last year,
when Hogwarts had closed and he had been faced with a choice. Murderer or blood traitor? Draco had chosen blood traitor.
It had a certain ring to it.

Back to his work at the ministry. As
usual, Draco had soon grown frustrating with his lack of progress. He went out
for coffee and came back a few moments later, planning to stop by Natalie
McDonald�s cubicle on the way back to his own desk to ask if she�d had better
luck than him. He never got there though. Standing right across the room,
talking casually with an Auror named Perenell Fenwick, was Potter. His instincts immediately
screamed at him to bolt out of that room as fast as possible. To leave before
Potter saw him. But instead he stood there like a complete ponce,
simply staring until the heat of his stare drew Harry�s eyes away from Fenwick
for a brief moment. A brief moment in which they locked eyes, and surprise
mixed with a dash of conflict was evident in Potter�s face. Then the moment was
over. Harry went back to his conversation, and Draco turned and exited the
room.

How they had both ended up in the washroom eight minutes
later, Draco had no idea. But he was almost hard already, just remembering what
had soon after occurred. He had walked into the room and seen Potter washing
his face in the sink. The Gryffindor stood up, and Draco suddenly found himself
face to face with the boy he had been trying so hard to forget. But unlike in
the hall, they were alone. Draco registered this in the back of his mind as a
dangerous situation. Flashing lights announcing warnings such as �Stop!� and
�Avoid Unbearable Sexual Tension � Run!� but Draco had neither the presence of
mind nor the inclination to pay them attention.

Potter had greeted him with a forced calm that Malfoy was seized with the urge to grab and shatter on the
floor. But instead, he heard himself making a remark about the weather. He
heard Harry reply courteously, and then felt himself being slammed against the
wall. His mouth was attacked savagely, then his neck. Soon, they were pawing at
each other desperately, almost viciously. Potter�s hand was down his trousres, which was only fair because Draco had his tongue
down Potter�s throat.

It was just four hours ago, yet the scene playing in his
mind was foggy and lacking clarity. If he didn�t have bruises he would be
wondering if it was just another dream. It was similar to the dreams in some
ways, but completely different in others. Potter made the first move, for one.
He wouldn�t have expected that of the boy. In his dreams Malfoy
was always the instigator, and being pushed up against that wall had thrown him
off. It hadn�t been entirely unpleasant though. Malfoy
remembered Potter�s lips on his neck, sucking and teasing the sensitive skin at
his collarbone. Potter pulling Draco�s shirt off before
throwing his own on the floor. Potter�s hand reaching
into his boxers, pushing him closer and closer to his breaking point.

Draco shuddered, and sighed heavily as he resigned himself
to his fate. Reaching down, he grasped his erection firmly. The physical relief
was evident in his moan. Fisting his cock roughly, Draco remembered the hard
definition of Potter�s abs, and the sweat collecting on his brow as they both
tottered on the edge of release.

Moments later, Draco came violently while choking on the
name of a boy he had sworn to hate as it tore from his lips.

- - - - - - - - - - -
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Present
Day. June 29, 2008.

The voices of people rose and fell within the rhythm of
conversation, nearly drowning out the soft jazz that played in the background
of a crowded restaurant. Three old friends sat in the corner, taking place in a
ritual that they had started several years ago when the war first began. Every
Thursday night, they met up and had dinner together.

It didn�t sound very special, but it had been one of the
things that had kept Harry sane throughout the turmoil of war. Unless it was
physically impossible, he could count on Hermione and Ron to be there on that
one night. When the war ended they decided to continue the dinners, even though
they often saw each other at other times in the week. It felt safe for all
three of them to have something they could rely upon.

Draco knew where Harry was of course. Hermione, Ron, and
Draco had gotten along well enough since Draco�s allegiances had switched. They
certainly weren�t friends, but they were civil. If Draco had happened to walk
into their restaurant on a Thursday night, it was likely that Hermione would
invite him to sit down. But Draco had never shown up like that. If it was Harry
in Draco�s position, he wouldn�t have been able to resist the temptation. Draco
however, seemed entirely indifferent where Thursday nights were
concerned. Well, that wasn�t entirely true. There was always a weird tension
that surface when Harry mentioned his Thursday excursions outright. Draco
preferred to treat Thursdays as he would any other night. Harry wasn�t sure
what it was exactly. He had no clue what it was that Draco did on Thursday
nights. But he figured it was best not to pry. After all, Draco never pried.

�She�s going mad! Absolutely bonkers! Really Harry, how many
weddings have you been to where there were six different appetizers to choose
from?� Ron asked, exasperated.

Harry shrugged. �I�ve never been to a wedding, actually.�

�That�s not true, you went to Bill and Fleur�s
wedding.� Hermione pointed out.

Harry shook his head. �No I didn�t, remember? That was the
switched Portkey incident.�

Hermione winced. �I�d forgotten about that.�

�It landed McNair in Azkaban though, so it wasn�t for
nothing. Right, Harry?� Ron asked.

�Right.� Harry sighed wearily. Good
to know that his hours of endured torture had been worthwhile.

�Having six appetizers is just good sense, Ron.� Hermione
said, plowing on in an attempt to remove any signs of awkwardness. �It gives
the guests plenty of options, and we need be considerate of the differences in
diet among the wizarding world. You couldn�t very
well serve a vampire garlic bread, could you?� Hermione asked.

�You�ve invited a vampire to our WEDDING?!� Ron accused
hotly, spitting out his butterbeer.

�Well, no.� Hermione conceded. �But-�

�I will give you two
appetizers. That�s it. Two.� Ron told her firmly. �And while we�re on the
subject of wedding food, I refuse to allow you to serve that zucchini stir
fry�tofu�thing I overheard you and
mum talking about this morning.�

�But what about the vegetarians?�
Hermione asked, clearly distressed.

�The wedding is being held outside. They can get on their hands
and knees and eat the grass for all I care.� Ron said cheekily.

�That is not
funny, Ron.� Hermione said, glaring at him sternly. She turned her attention to
Harry. �You�ll never guess who we ran into the other day, Harry.� Hermione
began slyly, changing the direction of conversation completely in the process. �Hannah
Abbott! She was asking about you, so I told her that��

Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed. He knew what was
coming. Hermione and Ron had been trying to set him up for quite some time now.
Each attempt proved more futile than the last, especially considering that
every single one of his prospective �soul mates� happened to lack a certain Y
chromosome. In other words, his friends didn�t know he was gay.

Harry had never really meant to keep this a secret from
them. It was just that, when he finally figured it out there was a war being
waged around them. Harry had sort of put it aside in favour
of more important things. It seemed at the time that everyone already had more
than enough to deal with. Now there was nothing stopping him. Yet he and Draco
had been keeping their relationship a secret for so long now that it had just
become part of what they were, and Harry was afraid to change that. Although
they had been together in some form or another for over three years now, their
relationship had never been a stable one. There had been an awkward conversation
instigated by Harry after the first year, in which they had agreed that they
were �dating�. Despite this, the term �boyfriend� was never brought up, most
likely because they had never had the chance to use it. But also because there
was a certain reluctance to define anything about what they were to each other
or what they did with each other. It made it a bit too �real world� somehow. Harry
smirked briefly as he imagined saying, �This is my boyfriend, Draco� only to
have each and every person in the imaginary room faint away in shock. He
snorted.

�What�s so funny?� Ron asked, curious.

Harry shook his head. �Nothing.
Look, I appreciate the thought, but I�m fine by myself right now.�

�What about our wedding Harry?� Hermione prodded. �At least
bring a date to the wedding. You need to get out there more!�

Harry paused. He wasn�t sure how to reply. After all, they
believed he hadn�t had a date in over five years. If that had actually been the
case, they would have a very good case.

�What about Cho Chang? She�s
working for Gringotts now,
Bill says she�s still single.� Ron suggested.

Harry shook his head. Him and Cho? What a disaster that would be! Even if he wasn�t gay.

�Or Luna? I mean, she is a bit odd.
But she�s really quite sweet!� Hermione said.

�Maybe Parvati Patil?� Ron offered.

He wished they�d just stop throwing names at him. His head
was starting to hurt.

�Or Lavender?� Hermione added.

�I�m already seeing someone.� Harry blurted out. He
regretted the words immediately, as both of his friends stared at him, stunned.

�Harry!� Hermione exclaimed. �Why didn�t you say something?�

�I don�t think they can come to the wedding though.� Harry
said quickly.

Ron frowned. �Well why not?�

Harry exhaled loudly, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose while
he pushed his glasses up. �It�s complicated.� He said finally.

�We want to meet her, Harry.� Hermione said firmly.

Harry nodded vaguely, unwilling to correct the improper
placement of the pronoun �her�. He had no idea how he was going to get out of
this one.

- - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - -

Present day. Later that same night.

Harry turned the key in its lock quietly, hesitant to make
any noise. He was coming home much later then he had expected, having been
unable to get Hermione and Ron to stop pestering him about his �clandestine
lover� as Hermione had put it. Harry crept quietly across the floor, taking
care to avoid the creaky floorboards. Draco was already in bed, having fallen
asleep with the lights still on. Draco had made such a fuss about having those
two bedside lamps. He had insisted that Harry remove them at first, and then
complained loudly for some while about the ineffectiveness of �ekletricty� and muggle inventions
in general. But when Harry flicked the switch, Draco�s eyes lit up in interest.
Harry had come back from work one day to find a sulky Draco nursing a rather
severe burn to his hand, insisting that the lamp had �attacked him�. Draco had
learned, and knew better than to touch the light bulbs now.

Harry undressed as quietly as possible,
and flicked off the lights as he slipped into the bed.

�How are Mr. and Mrs. Weasel?� Draco asked sleepily,
startling Harry.

�I didn�t know you were awake.� Harry admitted. �And they�re
not Mr. and Mrs. Weasel quite yet.�

Draco grunted in recognition of this fact. A long pause, and
then, �Harry?� Draco asked, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

�Yeah?�

Another long pause. �Nothing.� Draco said eventually, staring at the ceiling of
their bedroom.

�No, what?� Harry pressed. He
turned on the bedside light again and propped himself up on one elbow to face
the other boy. He�d been expecting something like this for awhile now. It
wasn�t hard to tell when something was on Draco�s mind. It was only a matter of
when it would make itself known.

�Just, isn�t it weird that your two best mates don�t even
know that you�re living with someone now?�

Harry shrugged. �Not really. It hasn�t caused any problems
yet.�

Draco nodded hesitantly. �But what if they came over one day
without any warning? They might be a little bit concerned to find us shagging
in the kitchen or something.�

Harry snorted. �If it happens, we�ll deal with it.�

Draco sat up. �So you don�t think it�s important enough to
let them know?�

Harry sighed. �That�s not what I meant.�

Draco scrambled out of the bed. �Really?
Then why are we walking around carrying all of these secrets? Harry tried to
speak, but Draco didn�t give him the chance. �You know what I think, Potter?�
Harry winced at the use of his surname, which Draco only reverted to when he
was truly ticked off. �I think you�re ashamed. You think that if you tell one
person they�ll tell someone else. And then they�ll tell someone else, and
before you know it the Prophet will be running stories about The-Boy-Who-Took-It-Up-The-Arse, or The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Fuck-A-Malfoy.�
Draco sneered. �You can�t handle the bad press.�

Harry shook with anger. �How can you even
say that?!� Harry yelled. �I couldn�t give a fuck what the press says
about me, it�s all bollocks anyway. You know that doesn�t matter to me!�

�Then what�s the big deal, huh? Why doesn�t anyone know?�
Draco demanded.

�Nobody knows because we both
decided that keeping this relationship a secret was for the best!�

Draco glared at him hotly. �There was a war going on you moron! In case you haven�t noticed, that war is
over now!�

�Just because the war is over it doesn�t mean the
complications of the war can be disregarded. You can�t just ignore that� Harry
said brutally.

�I�m not ignoring anything, Harry. I just don�t understand!
This thing�us�we were a liability
during the war. I didn�t fancy having a bunch of Death Eaters asking me why I
was buggering Dumbledore�s Golden Boy! But things have changed now!�

Harry�s face was white, and Draco briefly wondered why
before retracing his words. Dumbledore.

�Get out.� Harry told Draco quietly.

�Harry, I�m sorry.� Draco tried, regretting his momentary
lapse.

�Get out!� Harry yelled, and he pushed Draco out into the
hall, slamming the door behind him.

Draco leaned against the door, cursing to himself quietly.
He slid slowly to the floor, and wrapped his arms around his knees. There were
a few unspoken rules that existed between Harry and himself. Some of them were
small. For instance, blue cheese was not allowed in the apartment because it
made Draco ill. And you weren�t allowed to make any noise when Harry was
watching something called football on the muggle box
they kept in the living room. What was it called? TB?

But there were several others that were much bigger. Nobody
was allowed to touch the Firebolt that hung above the
fireplace, and it was not a good idea to ask Harry why he never flew with it
anymore (he had learned this from personal experience). They always left the
bedroom door open when they went to bed because after the cupboard under the
stairs Harry didn�t like to feel confined. Any mention of August 17^th
and Draco would bite your head off. He hated to be reminded of night, when he
had been forced to reveal his true loyalties to his father. The hours that had
followed that confession�they were best forgotten. Closely linked to this was
Draco�s unwillingness to permit any mention of Lucius.

But the number one unspoken rule � Dumbledore�s name was
never to be uttered. Draco could hear Harry�s attempts to keep himself quiet,
when it was quite clear that he was muffling his sobs with a pillow.

�Harry?� Draco called out after a few minutes had passed.
�Can I come in?� He got no reply, and so after another minute he opened the
door. Harry�s face was still buried in the pillow, but he seemed to have
stopped crying. Draco was relieved. There was a kind of panic that seized him
at witnessing Harry break down. Harry was supposed to be strong. Draco knew
this was an entirely unrealistic expectation, but it still shook him to see the
saviour of the wizarding
world so vulnerable.

He lay down beside Harry and rubbed his back somewhat
awkwardly until Harry mumbled something into the pillow.

�What did you say?� Draco asked.

�I�m sorry.� Harry said, turning to face Draco. His eyes
were red and his skin was all blotchy, but Draco kissed him anyway.

�Don�t be sorry for anything.� Draco told him, but he
relaxed slightly at the apology.

�I just can�t deal with it all right now.� Harry said
quietly. One major benefit that the war had brought was that it had allowed him
to suppress the more painful memories as he attempted to keep his head above
water. But now that the water was gone, his dreams showed Harry a deserted
beach, littered with corpses. He woke up screaming, no longer haunted by the
images that Voldemort had allowed him access to, but
instead by the images conjured up by his own mind.

Draco pulled the other boy closer to him, and stroked his
arm softly. They stayed that way for awhile, until Harry looked at him slyly.

�I just had a thought.� He announced, sounding a bit too
pleased with himself.

�And what would that be?� Draco said, humouring
him.

Harry smiled. �How do you feel about weddings?� He asked.
Draco appeared puzzled, clearly having forgotten where the argument had
originally begun. Harry reached over to the bedside table and held the
invitation out to Draco, who took it curiously. He read it over quickly.

�So what, we show up on the happiest day of their lives and
announce that we�re dating?� Draco said skeptically. Then he chuckled.
�Actually, that could be fun. What do you think the likelihood is that Weasley would pass out?�

Harry frowned slightly. �No, of course we can�t do it like
that.� A sudden stroke of genius hit him. �You�ll come next Thursday.� Draco
furrowed his brow, unable to discern if Harry was joking or not.

�It�ll be fun, I promise.� Harry encouraged. Draco nodded
slowly, but he doubted it. Harry turned out the light, and Draco lay there for
awhile, feeling oddly relieved, and yet very nervous
at the same time. Next Thursday�

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A/N: Well, I hope you
enjoyed it. As always, I would be ever so happy to get a review from you,
letting me know what you think � what you liked, what you didn�t like�Thanks
for taking the time to read my newest update!
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White Roses