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Dragon He Saved	By : Prentice Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 15781 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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.

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Title: Dragon He saved

Author: Prentice

Rating: NC17; FRAO (Fan Rated Adults Only)

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Violence, Foul Language, Sexual Content

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Spoilers: Books 1 thru 4

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama

Series: Yes. DHS.

Archive: Ask first, please.

Feedback: Is always cherished and appreciated.

Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained here-in, are the
property of J.K. Rowling, the WB, Bloomburg books and etc. No infringements of
these copyrights are intended, and are being used here without permission. No
profit was made and no harm was done.

Author�s Note: Remember, suspend your beliefs! I'm sorry for the
delay! I've been away from my computer.

Summary:
Harry has
one chance to save the only thing he ever wanted

-----

Chapter 28

Harry had never been good at staring contests. In fact, as a child, when
Dudley had tried to "play" this game with him in order to intimidate him, Harry
had just let him win. And, not just because staring at Dudley's scrunched face
for too long made him nauseous. No, not because of that.

In simple terms, Harry thought it was Stupid. With a capital 'S', thank you
very much. Which was why he now was staring at this godfather and former
professor with something akin to annoyance.

For the last few minutes, both men had been staring somewhat blankly at each
other. Hardly blinking; afraid that they might lose whatever hold they had on
reality. Personally, it was getting on Harry's nerves. But he wasn't going to
interrupt. Not with Draco snuggled so perfectly in his lap, one shaky finger
tracing noncommittal patterns on Harry's skin as he concentrated on the slow
breathing pattern Remus had instructed of him, moments ago.

It wasn't an easy task for Draco, Harry knew, but it was necessary. It
wouldn't do for Draco to calm only to be seized in another attack...

//Speaking of, what could have caused him to?// Harry wondered, breaking his
eyes away from the scene before him to look down at the boy in question.

Draco had the look of a lost man.

//How�s the saying go?// He mused. //'Stuck in the ocean with nothing to
drink?'//

Harry shook his head with a weary smile. It was an ironic saying but it
somehow fit this moment -- fit this boy.

For years now, Harry had watched as the Slytherin became the self-assured
young man that everyone expected him to be. The normal
I-know-where-I'm-going-I-know-how-to-get-there Malfoy arrogance at the fore.
Which somehow fit Draco better than it fit his father, Lucius Malfoy.

It hadn't been until recently that Harry had begun to notice the
drowning-man-stares, as he dubbed them. And those too, had fit Draco.

//How long will it take have taken before someone broke him completely?//
Harry thought mournfully.

Draco was such a proud creature. Proud, arrogant, annoying, sweet, gentle,
loving...

//For cripes sake I'm losing it.//

A twisted smile settled on Harry's lips. His life was just getting better and
better --

One minute he was scrubbing dishes and doing yard work for the Dursley's, the
next he was going to the finest school for witchcraft and wizardry, and now he
was sitting in the smallest bedroom of No. 4 Privet Drive with his archenemy
snuggled in his lap in one corner and his godfather and former professor
comatose in the other.

Then again...

Harry studied the other boy's features, a genuine smile touching his lips.

It was worth it. All the pain and toil that he had gone through somehow
seemed worth it now with Draco trustingly petting his skin.

"You should do that more often."

Harry blinked. Looked down again. "What?"

Draco stared up at him, his pale skin even pastier. "You s-should do that
more often."

Harry blinked again. "Do what?"

"Smile." Draco said simply before rolling his eyes back towards their
inspection of the cracks in the wall. Harry's eyebrows rose.

//Well that was -- unexpected.//

"You really think so?" Harry inquired after a moment, more for the sake of
making sure he heard correctly than to hear it again. Draco nodded mutely, his
eyes flicking up to Harry, a thousand or more emotions rolling inside their
depths before he looking away again.

A peculiar flush of protective-ness coursed through the Gryffindor, making
his spine tingle, toes curl and scar shutter with pleasure. If someone would
have asked him why, he wouldn't have had an answer. Something in the way Draco
had stared at him just now made him feel...

//Oh buggery bollocks I can't believe I'm thinking this!//

...sexy. Primitive.

//There, you've gone and done it now! Why not just break out the whips and
chains and...//

Harry bit his lip, clamping down on that thought as well. How could he
possibly be thinking of something like that at a time like this,
was beyond him. This wasn't exactly the kind of thing that happened to him
everyday.

Oh sure, he'd had a few noncommittal flirting sessions with Cho and an
utterly outrageous 'birds and the bees' talk with, surprise-surprise, Percy who
assured him that it was quite all right to want to have relations with another
bloke but to just be discreet.

But talking about being with another bloke and actually...

//Wait, wait, wait...how the bloody hell did I get on this train of thought?
I'm supposed to be thinking about...//

What was he suppose to be thinking about? He'd suddenly forgotten what with
the way Draco was rubbing his cheek dangerously close to the inside of his thigh
was making it very hard to think.

"Harry..." Draco breathed out, one hand curling on Harry's knee cap for
leverage as he rubbed firmly, like a large contented alley cat.

Very hard, indeed.

"Um," Harry swallowed thickly, wondering why his voice had just dropped an
octave or two. "could you, maybe, think about--"

But Harry�s words were cut off by a sure grip encircling his shoulder,
forcing him to look up into the wide eyes of his grime godfather.

"Sirius?" He asked, all thoughts of anything hard out of his mind (for the
moment). Sirius looked -- crazed. Though, not in the same way he had when he had
escaped Azkaban but almost pressing the border.

"Harry, Harry...how long has this---this waste been here?" Sirius growled,
his voice a cross between hatred and fear.

Harry didn't register the startling emotion nor the fact that his godfather
had (obviously) gotten past whatever hill he had been facing. All Harry could
hear was one word repeating, over and over, within his mind.

//Waste. He called my Draco a waste!//

Another surge of protective-ness slammed him, making his muscle tense and
scar burn. Anger, as hot as the very sun, swept through him. A roar of outrage
and something else echoed in his mind.

Before anyone could realize (Harry included), Sirius was pinned against the
opposite wall by his very pissed off godson.

"Don't you ever...e-v-e-r call Draco a waste again! Not in my presence
or anyone else's if you value your life." Harry spat, punctuating each word by
lifting his godfather a little farther off the ground till the tips of the man's
toes were just skimming the floor.

He could feel his godfather tremble beneath his grip. The obvious outrage
playing across the man�s features did nothing to deter his hold. Harry grinned
fierily .

"Draco is mine. No one. And I do mean no one, insults
what is mine. Not even you."

His voice was a perfect mirror of calm but the look within his emerald depths
was not. A storm raged there. The waves spilled out promises of pain and
retribution if this happened again. The young Gryffindor let his eyes sweep the
room, his senses cataloging the shell-shocked face of his former professor and
the pleased but pensive look on Draco's.

His eyes snapped back to his godfather's. "Do we understand each other?"

Sirius began to nodded but was thwarted when Harry's fingers tightened
instinctively so in it's place he gave an undignified squeak. It was close
enough for Harry.

Stepping back, Harry watched as his godfather crumpled to the ground, his
chapped lips dragging in a deep-lung full of air. He looked up at Harry
fearfully.

That fear was enough to shake whatever hold this protective-bond had inspired
inside him.

//Oh god what have I done?// Harry asked himself, the adrenaline leaking out
of him to puddle at his feet.

He swayed dangerously.

"Oh god...oh god..." He whispered, taking another step back from his
godfather, who was presently using the wall as a brace to stand. "...oh god..."

Sirius rubbed a hand over his throat, grimacing when his fingers touched the
finger print bruises left behind.

"Oh god...I didn't mean it...I didn't mean it...oh god..."

"It's okay, Harry." Sirius croaked, a rasping cough escaping him. Harry shook
his head in denial. What had he just done?

How could he have--? To his godfather--? Why had he--?

Harry felt a familiar roar fill his ears. His stomach rolled.

"Oh god..." He whispered before he feel to his knees and retched up his
stomach contents.
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