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Providence	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 15841 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter Three�What
Astoria Greengrass Said

�� I�m
nervous.�

�� Harry
smiled, because Astoria was standing with her back to him and couldn�t see his
face. She was also fiddling with a golden bead braided into her hair�nervous,
as she had said�and so Harry reached up and gently restrained her hand. Then he
turned her around. Astoria looked up at him with determination, but also a
gently trembling lip.

�� You don�t
need to worry,� Harry said. �He�s going to love you.� He liked that phrase,
because of its double meaning, and Astoria�s face relaxed a bit, as though it
had reassured her.

�� But if he
asks me some question about the letters,� said Astoria, and then didn�t finish
the sentence even though Harry waited for her to do so. She was spinning one
curl around her finger, and again Harry stopped her before she could ruin her
hair. She had explained that this was a traditional pure-blood hairstyle, a
conglomeration of golden beads and even small bells that would add a soft music
to her movements without becoming obtrusive.

�� So what?�
Harry laughed at her. �I�ve showed you everything I�ve written, and the one I
received. You wrote them. You have to remember that. And you�ll make him the
best partner.�

�� You�re certain.�
Astoria raised an eyebrow at the end of that sentence, as if she had started to
doubt him.� Harry couldn�t stand for that
to happen, because doubt was not the
way to deal with Draco Malfoy. One had to be sure and go fearlessly ahead, the
way that Harry was. He gripped her shoulders and shook her a little.

�� Of course.
Other people want him, but they haven�t taken the initiative to win him, like
you have, have they? They just sit around waiting for him to notice them.
You�re the one who understands that his notice has to be compelled.�

�� For some
reason, Astoria frowned and slowly shook her head, causing a ripple of melody
that Harry knew Draco would find
attractive. �I could wish that it didn�t have to be this way,� she said. �I did
hope, at one time, that he would notice me if I was just patient and pretty and
accommodating enough.�

�� Well, now
you know better,� Harry said. �He�s not going to choose someone passive. He
wants an active partner, one who challenges him, one who�s willing to take the first
step and pursue him.�

�� Astoria
still had a shadow in her eyes when she looked up and smiled, but before Harry
could ask her why it was there, she said, �And you�ll be in the restaurant in
case something happens. You told me that.�

�� Of course
I will,� Harry said bracingly. �Under a glamour, because I don�t want to
distract Draco�s attention from you�and he would feel the need to come over and
argue with me if he saw I was there�but ready to intervene if something
happens.�

�� Good.�
Astoria walked across the main room of her house to study the mirror set into
the wall. Harry had never seen a house with so many luxuries, though he didn�t
doubt Malfoy Manor was worse as far as that went. Good job I�ll never be living there with Draco, then.

�� Astoria bent
close to the mirror, adjusted the gold beads, and gave a twitch of her hips
beneath the golden gown that was too subtle for Harry to follow. Then she spun
on one heel, making the gown flare about her, and nodded decisively. �I�m
ready.�

*

�� Draco strode
into the House of the Sun with a high step, barely controlling his energy. He
could feel the blood beating in his cheeks and his head, roused by the letter
that had arrived barely an hour before the set time of his date with Astoria
Greengrass.

�� Bone-skull,

�� I�m sure you didn�t expect me to be writing
so soon after your last letter. I know you, you see, and I know that you�re
used to being the master of every situation. You would have sat back and
reveled, certain you�d intimidated me. You would have thought that one line
about opening my mouth with your tongue enough to make me shiver and tremble
and collapse on the couch in a fit of maidenly modesty.

�� Idiot.

�� I might love you�and really, that�s so
conditional that one might as well give the emotion a different name�but I�m
not in awe of you. I see all your mistakes with a cynical eye. I see the pride
that turns into arrogance when you have to deal with other people. I see the
way you smile viciously when you win an argument. Those debates that you held
with Muggleborns weren�t all sincere. You were as glad when you won as when you
lost and had to admit you were wrong. I�m starting to wonder how many of the
things that you do in public are for the
public and not signs of a true change in your character. If that�s the case,
then you�re a better liar than I ever expected.

�� But you�re also entitled to less of my
respect.

�� I want someone who can change, someone who
can challenge me to change, someone
who can offer me a perspective I�ve never considered. Of course I�ve lived
through much the same experiences that you have: the parties, the dances, the
meaningless conversations. I want something different. Another smooth,
insincere liar and actor isn�t it. I can have a dozen of those ready to marry me
by snapping my fingers.

�� I�m a conqueror, the same as you are. And if
you think you can blithely stick your tongue in my mouth, you ought to know one
thing.

�� I bite.

�� A sincere friend.

�� Draco
wasn�t sure he believed half the things that Greengrass had said in that
letter, but half being true would still be enough. And it was possible that he
had been mistaken, too, and that she had concealed the personality of a
conqueror beneath a little girl�s front. Why not? He had never had incentive to
pay her much attention before this.

�� He came to
a halt in the middle of the restaurant and turned his head in a leisurely
circle that would allow him to scan the whole thing, at once looking for Astoria
and admiring the place�s beauty. The House of the Sun was an enormous round
tower of glass, with an automatic Apparition point between the front door,
which opened from Diagon Alley, and the tower, so that one need only take a
step to suddenly be several hundred feet above the ground. The sun shone in
through every window, though spells muted the dazzle to a reasonable glow. The
floor was decorated in large, slightly raised wooden shields of deep red,
green, blue, and purple, making the interior a riot of color. Larger shields
supported round glass tables, themselves stained so that they bent and colored
the sunbeams traveling through them. Draco had always enjoyed coming to this
place because it filled him with a sense of fire and height, as though he were
a transforming phoenix, its wings fretted with flame.

�� He saw
Astoria almost immediately, and smiled his approval. She was dressed in yellow,
and had taken care to get a table in the middle of a golden shield. Draco
stepped up to her and took her hand, raising it to his lips. She met his eyes
coolly, without flinching, and took her hand back again the moment his lips had
brushed it.

�� Well,
Malfoy,� she said. �I wondered if you were going to show up.�

�� I said,�
Draco murmured lazily, taking the chair on the other side of the table from
her, �one-o�clock. And it is that. I would never be late. It would be vulgar.�

�� I do not
think,� Astoria said, her voice hardly loud enough to reach his ears, �that you
would be above being vulgar. If it suited you.�

�� Even that
mild insinuation was more than Draco had received in months, and it affected
him like a drug. He leaned forwards, blood pumping with the challenge of the
fight and the hunt.

�� I can, in
fact, be rather dirty,� he said.

�� Astoria
raised an eyebrow but neither looked away nor blushed. Draco had to concentrate
to keep from wriggling like a child.

*

�� Everything is going splendidly.

�� Harry
grinned and held a cup of wine to his mouth, sipping slowly. The last thing he
wanted was to be drunk in the same restaurant where Draco and Astoria were talking.
Still, to make sure he didn�t irritate the staff of the House of the Sun, he
had ordered a large meal earlier and eaten most of it, and he had already asked
for several smaller things. They seemed happy to let him sit at the table as
long as he wanted to.

�� Harry was
trying to listen to the conversation, but he kept being distracted by Draco.
Draco wore charcoal-grey robes that Harry had seen him in before. He had his
hair as neatly combed as always. He carried his wand at his waist in a
specially-made sheath. His eyes were bright, his face looking as if it had been
chiseled.

�� All of that
was the same.

�� And yet, he
didn�t look the same.

�� Harry
thought his eyes were the main difference. His eyes were keener. He stared at
Astoria as if he were estimating a game animal for the kill, and wondering how
much of it he would be able to eat. And yet Astoria didn�t seem disturbed. The
glamour Harry had taught her that concealed her constant blushes helped.

�� Draco was engaged with someone for the first time
Harry could remember. He was alive and countering Astoria�s gently witty
suggestions for food with an eagerness that Harry hadn�t thought he was capable
of.

�� Yes, he�s engaged with her. And soon he�ll
be engaged to her.

�� Harry
swallowed a rather larger gulp of wine than he�d been in the habit of taking in
the last hour, and then set down his glass and shook his head. He had no right
to feel this little glowing ember of hurt that appeared to have lodged itself
in the middle of his chest. He had no right to wish that Astoria had taken
longer to fascinate Draco and that he would have to watch more of these
meetings.

�� After all, if these meetings hurt you, then
it�s best that they be done as soon as possible, right?

�� Harry
glanced into his cup again. He had learned a spell from Hermione that would
turn any reflective surface into a scrying mirror�though Hermione, still bitter
against Divination after all these years, had told him that the term �scrying
mirror� was incorrect. He could only see something that was actually happening,
and preferably close at hand, not the future. Harry had reassured her that he
would never try to see the future, and she had seemed satisfied.

�� It was an
excellent way to watch Draco and Astoria without turning around, though.

�� Harry
blinked when he glanced into his wine this time. Draco was still leaning
forwards, his eyes focused on Astoria�s face and his smile slight and
appreciative, but something had changed. Harry didn�t think he could name it,
and he probably would never have noticed it if he hadn�t watched Draco for
years. Draco was just�not as engaged as before.

�� That was
stupid. Harry knew it was stupid. No
line of his face had altered. Perhaps his smile had grown slightly smaller, but
that was only to be expected. Draco wouldn�t want to show too much emotion even
here, in a restaurant where only the rich or the pure-blooded came. Some of the
richest customers would think it prudent to increase their wealth by selling
secrets to the newspapers if they could.

�� And Astoria
was sometimes looking away from Draco, staring moodily into a corner of the
restaurant. Her fingers tapped on the table, which Harry could put down to
nervousness. But combined with the stare, it looked like boredom.

�� I wish I could hear them better, Harry
thought. Seated as he was, he caught most of their conversation, but something
had obviously passed between them whilst he was distracted with his own
irrelevant pain that he�d missed.

�� Pay more attention, he told himself, and
cast a slight charm to sharpen his hearing. This
is about Draco, and not you.

*

�� Draco had
learned not to ignore his intuition. It had warned him twice about people who
had come to the Manor intent on assassinating his mother, and it had warned him
not to press ahead and demand his father�s freedom even when the Minister
seemed to be in his most generous and forgiving mood.

�� And at the
moment, his intuition was insisting that the person who sat across the table
from him was not the person who had written those letters.

�� But that
didn�t mean he always had to act on his intuition. And he didn�t know very much
about Astoria yet. He certainly hadn�t known she could make asking for a plate
of delicate, rare fruits sound like an invitation to a private room. He had
formed a certain picture of his writer in his head, but the picture wasn�t
exact in all particulars.

�� More
problematic was the fact that Astoria seemed to have lost interest in him, which shouldn�t have happened no
matter how long their conversation ran. She was staring off into a corner of
the House of the Sun, her fingers tapping on the table. That wouldn�t do at
all. Whether or not Draco ended up being taken as her challenge and conquest,
he intended to take her.

�� I
wondered,� Draco said softly, in the sibilant tone that had worked so well at
drawing so many women�s attention, �what you thought of my efforts to influence
the Muggleborns about separate schools for their children and the pure-blood
children.�

�� Astoria
glanced back at him from the corner of one green eye, and her voice became more
coquettish than it had been before. Draco was pleased. At least that showed he
was having an effect on her.

�� I am
interested in your part in the affair,� Astoria said. She gave a delicious
weight to affair that made Draco
shift a little. �But other than that, I must confess, I can find little to
touch my interest concerning them. If Mudblood and pure-blood children are
educated separately when young, they will still be educated together in
Hogwarts. The matter of pure-blood teaching, the truth that they come from the
highest and noblest part of the wizarding world, should be instilled by their
families. We are both products of that system of education, and we are rather
marvelous works, are we not?� Her eyelashes dipped.

�� Draco smiled
back, and assumed she would think the added edge to his smile a matter of
predatory interest�

�� Rather than
surprise and anger, as it was.

�� My writer used the term Muggleborn, as if
even in private writing they deserved respect. And she says Mudblood, casually,
in public, where anyone might hear.

�� I do not think they are the same person.

�� He went on
talking to her easily, fluently, about Slytherin House and people they had both
known in it, about her sister Daphne, about esoteric magic. She kept up with
him easily, even when he ventured into the outer branches of esoteric magic,
and ordinarily Draco would have been impressed to have such a conversational
partner.

�� But not
now, not when his being reverberated with the shock.

�� Who is writing to me, then? And how would
Astoria know the content of the letters?

�� A
conspiracy was the obvious answer, but there Draco ran up against an obvious
wall. Why would a woman who knew him so well, and knew how to bait him and lure
him into chasing her, give up her own chance
to have Draco just so that she could give Astoria one?

�� Perhaps she�s married.

�� But then
offering a challenge like this to Draco was simple madness. If she knew him at
all, she must know that he would soon divine Astoria was not the writer, and
also that he wouldn�t take marriage as a true obstacle to his will. Marriages
could be dissolved. Many of them had been, in the last few years, as
pure-bloods married Mudbloods for the greater social standing and then
discovered that their loyalty to their traditions was stronger than their
loyalty to the good opinion of the world.

�� Perhaps the
woman was stupider than she had seemed. But Draco did not think an inferior
mind had produced those words. If it had, then the words would never have
exercised the powerful influence over him that they had in the first place.

�� It made no
sense, so Draco had to return to his original conclusion. Astoria hadn�t
written the letters. Someone else had. And he would have to write a letter back
that baited and trapped and lured his writer into exposing herself.

�� It�s been
very interesting, Miss Greengrass,� Draco said, at the end of the evening, and
extended his hand to help her to her feet. Astoria seemed fully focused on him
again as she stood, but Draco reminded himself that was as likely to be a
deception as anything else, and smiled into her eyes with a mask firmly in
place. �I look forwards to meeting you in other times and other places.�

�� Those were
words he had said to dates he never contacted again. Draco smiled peacefully
on, and waited to see if she would recognize them.

�� Astoria�s
gaze narrowed, but she said, �I think I will set the time and place of the next
meeting. I find that the House of the Sun is uncongenial to intimate reflection.�

�� And she
nodded at Draco and turned away.

�� Draco
waited politely for her to leave before he went after her. No need to make
others think they were together when soon that would no longer be true.

�� Besides, he
could use those moments to reflect on the letter he had to write.

*

�� I don�t
understand,� Astoria said in a low, troubled voice, pacing across Harry�s
pacing room. �But somehow, being with Draco wasn�t the way I imagined. He�s
less captivating when he�s close to you. I wasn�t as desperate to have his
attention once I had it.�

�Harry sat on a chair and tried to look as if
he understood what she was talking about. But since sharing a date with Draco
and having Draco smile, even in the half-abstracted way he had smiled at
Astoria as she left, was a long-cherished dream of his, he doubted that he
would sympathize, no matter how long he concentrated.

�I want someone who notices me for me,� said Astoria suddenly, turning
around and staring at him. �Not someone who has to be coaxed and persuaded into
noticing.�

�But I don�t think Draco would
notice anyone of his own free will,� Harry pointed out. �He thinks he�s too
good for them. So you�re in the same situation as any other woman trying to
court him would be.�

Astoria blinked. �I hadn�t realized
that. I always believed that he would marry as soon as he found someone who
could intrigue him sufficiently. He wouldn�t want to let her get away, not
after he�s searched so long.�

�And I�ve seen him date hundreds of
women, of many different kinds,� Harry retorted, rising to his feet, �and I
think that if it were that simple, he would have found her by now. He never
gives people a chance, Astoria. It�s
his greatest flaw. He�s convinced that he�s the most interesting person in the
room, and he would sit around smugly examining himself in his soul�s mirror if
you left it up to him. No one is good enough for Draco bloody Malfoy. So you
need to hold and catch his attention long enough to make him see the good
things about you.� He paused, and looked at Astoria looking at him. At least
there was wonder and speculation in her eyes now, and he suspected that he�d made
her think. �Is using the glamour to conceal your blushes somehow a form of
cheating?�

�He would never have looked at me,
comments about the letter or not, if I didn�t wear it,� Astoria murmured.

�� So?� Harry
spread his hands. �We�re just using the tactics that anyone would have to use.
You�re simply the lucky woman who thought of them first.� Astoria smiled at
that for some reason, but Harry didn�t pause to ask why. It was too important
to convince her. �Say that you�ll go on at least one more date with Draco.�

�� Harry hated
how desperate he sounded on those last words, but if he didn�t win Astoria for
Draco, who in the world would he win? There was no one else in Draco�s
immediate circle remotely suited to him, no one who was as genuinely attracted
to him as Astoria was.

�� Astoria
nodded slowly. �All right. I can see that. And I do like being close to him. I
did feel a fluttering in my blood. I�d�like to be there. I�d just like him to
know who I really am.�

�� You can
tell him about the letters as soon as he�s safely in love,� Harry promised her,
smiling. �And he�ll hate and despise me,
because I�m the one who thought up the plan and tried to trick him.�

�� Astoria
nodded. �All right.�

�� Grimoire
swooped in then, and from the ruffled look of his feathers, Harry knew that he
must have been to Draco. He grinned encouragement to both Astoria and the owl,
took the letter, and opened it, expecting some sort of pleasant reminiscences
of the dinner Draco and Astoria had shared.

�� My writer,

�� You present me more of a challenge than
ever. You must think I am truly stupid if you expected me to believe that a
clumsy, tiresome little girl like Astoria Greengrass was writing your letters. And yet you know me so well. It is
a conundrum.

�� It makes me but the more determined to
capture you. This is our second pass of the contest only, and so I forgive you
for thinking me unarmed. Merely do not make that mistake again. Make new and
more interesting ones, but few enough to keep my interest in you high.

�� I want you. When I walked into the
restaurant, believing I was going to meet you, my blood roared like a dragon in
the mating contest. And when I got over my first anger and disappointment in
realizing that Greengrass is not you, and saw the mysteries that still surround
your identity, I experienced the strongest attraction yet.

�� You betray yourself by your manner. You
think to conceal yourself from me, but you cannot conceal everything. You know
me. You dare to taunt me. You knew me at Hogwarts. You use simple,
straightforward words compared to most in my circle. I no longer think you are
a pure-blood, and I believe that I have narrowed your Hogwarts attendance down
to within the last nine years. It is inconceivable that a child younger than
that would be writing in this manner, and someone older would have used other
ways to approach me.

�� Every flourish of your quill is my spy upon
you; every carefully considered word, in reality so ill-chosen for anything but
showing your blazing spirit, brings me closer to the secret.

�� You warned me that you bite, that you are a
conqueror. I do hope, my writer, that your surrender is as beautiful as your
struggle.

�� My writer,

�� Behold the signature of your conqueror,

�� Draco Malfoy.

�� Harry?�
Astoria asked from somewhere far away. She sounded concerned. �What�s the
matter? Only you�ve gone so pale.�

*

�� butterpie:
Thanks! Part of the problem is that, even when Astoria is displaying genuine
emotion, neither Harry nor Draco is in a place to recognize it.

�� Luvdonite:
Thank you!

�� yaoiObsessed:
Thanks! I tend to write and post quickly, and to answer reviews in the section
here at the end of the chapter.

�� Harry
already does sort of want to tell Draco his feelings, but he doesn�t think it
has a chance of working out, so he sees no reason to let Draco laugh in his
face.

�� Dezra:
Thank you! If it helps, Harry is so thick-headed that he�ll take some blows as
less stinging than he otherwise might.

�� And yes,
this probably will be top!Draco.

�� thrnbrooke:
So do I.

�� SP777: The
confrontation will be incredibly intense, yes.

�� I think you�re
right, and I probably will write that story someday. If I can keep the
description of moves vague, I have a feeling I�ll do a better job.

�� Lunatic
with a hero complex: Thank you. I can promise that this doesn�t have a sad
ending, especially since Harry is too stubborn to let that happen.
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Providence