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Learning Life Over	By : Meander Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 69712 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 33
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Chapter 34- Draco Malfoy, This Is Your Life

�� Harry
settled on his bed, and winced when Draco tapped his throat. �I�ve swallowed
all the potion, I promise,� he said. Just because he had wanted to talk while
Draco was trying to give him the pain potion, Draco seemed to think that he wanted
to keep his knee out of joint.

�� Just
making sure.� Draco sat down in front of him, caught his eye, and gave him a
slow smile. Then he opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his lips. Harry
cleared his throat and looked away hastily.

�� A hand fell
on his good knee, massaging it. �How does this feel?� Draco whispered, voice
gone huskier than usual.

�� Good, as
you well know, since that wasn�t the injured one.� Harry bucked his leg until
the hand fell off. �Prat.�

�� I like
that, when I�m not the one acting as if we�ve never slept together.� Draco sat
back, but Harry could feel the heat all along his right side, and knew he
hadn�t gone far. �Why so nervous, Harry? You might not know the complete
answer, but I think I deserve to hear what you do know.�

�� I just
saved your life,� said Harry, stalling. �Don�t you want to talk about your
dramatic near-fall instead?�

�� Draco�s
fingers cupped his chin and turned his face around, forcing him to stop staring
at the intricate pattern on the blankets. Nails scraped over his bead stubble,
and Harry fought to keep his eyes from closing and a moan from escaping. Damn
it, he thought he�d overcome that much of his sensitivity. Perhaps not touching
Draco for a few days had brought it back.

�� We can
talk about anything you want,� Draco murmured, and then leaned forward and
kissed him, so slowly that it would have been unbearable if Harry really had
been aroused. As it was, he panted, near to it, by the time Draco released his
mouth, and it was hard to remember his resolve as Draco sat back and watched
him closely.

�� He grabbed
hold of it with both hands when it teased through his mind like the end of a
banner. �I- I want to know more about you, Draco,� he blurted. �What it was
like when you were a child. What you did in the years since your trial. Why you
decided to spend your time on nursing along a broken old Auror.�

�� Draco
arched a perfect eyebrow, and Harry was mortified to find himself even thinking
such adjectives. �That�s really what you want to hear right now?�

�� Harry
forced himself to keep his eyes on Draco�s face, and look no lower. �Yes,� he
said firmly, voice steadying. �You still know more about me than I know about
you. I don�t think that�s fair.�

*

�� Draco would
not have chosen to bring fairness into the equation, not only because he
so rarely did, but because it was not a wonder to him that he knew more about
Harry; he�d been spying on him for two years, after all. But he let the subject
glide naturally into this new one. Harry had forbidden him to talk about things
that Draco would have been more than willing to talk about. He had not
forbidden touching.

�� All right,
then,� he said, and his hand stroked Harry�s good knee as if absently while he
sought for the first telling detail. He found it in a memory that seemed far
more significant in retrospect than it had when first created.

�� Do you
remember the day that you went to Madam Malkin�s, and I met you there?� he
asked.

�� Harry�s
eyes shot to him, away from the hand on his knee, which he�d looked at as if it
were a cobra. �I want to hear about you, Draco,� he said in a warning tone.
�Not about me.�

�� Draco
nodded. �This is about me. I want to know if you�ve ever thought about
why I reacted the way I did.�

�� Because
you were a prat?�

�� Truer than
I like to recall, these days,� Draco said, with a small wince. He stretched out
beside Harry, and his hand moved from Harry�s knee to his calf, playing with
the edge of the robes and the line of the muscle as if they were pieces of paper.
Harry drew in his breath, but didn�t comment, as if he were afraid of
interrupting the flow of the story. Draco concealed a smile. He might think
that, but he�s really more afraid that I�ll take my hand away. �I hadn�t
yet learned that if I really did feel above someone, the best way to
show it was to treat them like their place in the world was at my feet. I
thought I had to brag and puff myself up, act superior and impress them. I knew
how to act with all the other children in my circle, but outside it, I treated
strangers like that. I treated you like that.�

�� He looked
straight at Harry, and tried to find some trace of the green-eyed boy in his
face. It didn�t work, though- or rather, it worked the other way around. No
matter how hard he looked, he kept superimposing the adult Harry�s face over
the child�s like a hallucination caused by too much Witches� Brew. He kept
seeing green eyes more dead than they should be, and contrasting the boy�s
nervous animation with Harry�s far-too-tight control.

�� That
sounds like you abandoned being a prat for being a bigger prat,� Harry
objected. �You weren�t better than me then, and you�re not better than most
people around you now.�

�� Draco
sighed. This was one of the fights he could see them having years in the
future, because Harry didn�t understand the way that wizarding hierarchies
worked. People in the Muggle world might argue and jostle for proof of
superiority, but wizards had it. Their heritage hadn�t been lost to
them, at least not if they lived properly. It wasn�t so much the blood- though
that was a convenient shorthand for it- as the culture, and the wealth, and the
magic, the closeness to power and the freedom to do what they liked. Harry
could have had all that, and he�d thrown it away to pursue a life of
self-denial and self-sacrifice. Draco took no satisfaction in the gap that
separated them, except the kind of gloomy, �I told you so� pleasure that came
from seeing Harry�s lifestyle destroying him, the way Draco had always known it
would.

�� That�s the
way I am,� he said. �I am just better than most of the people
around me, Harry. And so are you, though you try not to show it.�

�� Harry�s
hands clenched for a moment, and he took a deep breath. Draco�s fingers moved
up his thigh, this time playing more with the flesh than the cloth. Harry gave
a little quiver of pleasure before he bared his teeth and returned to the
attack.

�� So you
thought you had to demonstrate you were better than me before you could- � He
cocked his head. �What did you want to do?�

�� See if you
were a friend or a house-elf,� Draco said promptly.

�� Harry
hissed between his teeth. �And what did you decide?� he asked.

�� Draco
shrugged. �Our encounter was too short. And then you rejected my hand on the
train, and- well. That was the end of it.� He could feel a sympathetic pain for
that rejection of friendship still, but it was mostly due to the fact that, if
he had succeeded in claiming Harry�s hand, he could have been in this position
with him years earlier. He�d climbed over the slight Harry dealt him in and of
itself, because it was painfully obvious that Harry had no idea how things
worked in the real world.

�� Can we
talk about something that has nothing to do with me?� Harry asked painfully.
�What was life like in Slytherin House?�

�� Draco
grinned and rolled on his back, though he didn�t move his hand. It had climbed
almost to Harry�s groin now, and Harry�s eyes fluttered shut while he leaned
into the contact. Only after five seconds did he seem to recall himself and
scramble back to lean on the pillows, cheeks flushing. Draco felt his grin
stretch wider.

�� Quiet,� he
said. �Boring. We got into trouble outside the common room. The prefects
had orders from Professor Snape to make sure we spent most of our time there
studying and discussing �appropriate� subjects, which were pretty much homework
and Quidditch and nothing else.�

�� Harry
blinked. �I- well, I always thought that Snape favored his own House more than
the others.�

�� Draco
shrugged. �In the class he taught. That doesn�t mean he wanted to pamper and
spoil us.� He felt his lip curl a bit. He�d long since understood Snape�s
motives. That didn�t mean he�d ever come to terms with or approved of them. �He
thought we could bolster our reputation in the school by studying harder and making
better marks than the other Houses. And winning the House Cup and doing well at
Quidditch, of course. Aside from the fact that that became impossible once you
and Granger entered Hogwarts, it didn�t work. No one was going to respect us as
students because of our schoolwork, except maybe the Ravenclaws. It
helped some people get better jobs and contacts in the world beyond Hogwarts,
of course, but he couldn�t really help us be better-liked while we were there.�

�� So it was
horrible, then?�

�� Harry�s face
had that look Draco hated; he was seeking to take someone else�s misery and pin
it on himself as guilt. Draco moved his hand again, and this time rather firmly
pressed against Harry�s cock. He felt it move under his hand before Harry
reached down, took his wrist, and flung it away. But still he said nothing, so
Draco felt poised to continue the game.

�� I didn�t
say that,� said Draco. �A lot of us came from homes that were quiet like that.
And figuring out ways that the classes could be useful for us later- separating
what knowledge was useful from what knowledge wasn�t- could at least be
interesting. And the way we reacted to each other made an enormous game that no
one could ever permanently win and no one could ever permanently lose.�

�� It doesn�t
sound very relaxing.�

�� Oh, it
wasn�t,� Draco said, remembering how many times his shields had risen the
moment he entered Slytherin House, and how he had actually felt calmer in
Transfiguration, for all that Minerva McGonagall, the paragon of Gryffindors,
taught it, than anywhere else. �But it was engaging. It gave me other
things to do. And Quidditch practice gave me plenty of exercise.� He paused.
�And so did hating you.�

�� Harry said,
�I thought we weren�t talking about me. Or touching each other,� he added
sharply, when Draco let his fingers ghost over Harry�s balls.

�� You didn�t
mention that last,� Draco said softly. Harry was getting hard. He could feel it
beneath the cloth, and he let his fingers stroke once, twice, over it before
Harry seized his hand and held it still.

�� Harry
hissed at him, the sound near Parseltongue, and said, �I thought we weren�t
talking about the part of your life I was in.�

�� But you
were a part of that life,� said Draco, and fluttered his eyelashes at him.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. �Hating you took up a good portion of my time. I
think it was a precursor of the obsession that I have for you now, though I
certainly didn�t think of you romantically then.�

�� Harry
sighed. �When did your life change?�

�� Sixth
year.� Draco shuddered a little. He�d relived that time in dreams and
nightmares enough that he had no desire to recount it. He renewed his efforts
to distract Harry, turning his hand upside down and stroking his fingers along
Harry�s palm. Harry squirmed. �Or the end of fifth, really. I had this crazy
idea that the Dark Lord would help me get revenge on you for putting my father
in prison. And then I woke up when I went to him. In a way, the first sixteen
years of my life were a dream. It was when I met him that I saw what the real
world was like.�

�� And what
was it like?� Harry whispered, leaning near him.

�� Draco
breathed out, watching as Harry�s ear practically twitched from the waves of
hot air. �Horrible,� he said. �A place where people killed each other for
power, and tortured each other because they thought he�d like it. A
place where my own aunt was mad, and my mother would do anything to save my
life, including concoct a plan that killed other people. And where I had to
kill.�

�� Which you
couldn�t do,� Harry whispered.

�� Draco
inclined his head a fraction. �I woke up again on the Astronomy Tower,� he said
softly. That night blazed black and green in his imagination, the colors of
death and the Dark Mark, with only a tiny spot of white for Dumbledore. �I
learned something so important about myself that nothing else has seemed quite
as important since. Everything I am now built from there.�

�� He lifted
his gaze to Harry�s face, and smiled. There were warm flesh and warm eyes
beside him, and they could chase the chill of that night away. �Well, one thing
is as important.�

�� Harry
sighed. �Draco, I want to know you, not your obsession with me.�

�� I�m tired
of talking,� Draco whispered, and slid up the bed, and kissed Harry full on the
lips again. Harry wavered, mouth opening as if to protest, and Draco slid his
tongue inside. He felt his own clothes tighten uncomfortably, and his mouth and
his hips moved to the same rhythm.

�� Drawing
back, he whispered, �Are you really too nervous to allow this, Harry? Don�t you
want this?� Harry arched his neck as if to bare his throat to a werewolf�s
teeth, his eyes so wide they could become the center of Draco�s universe, his
world, if he allowed them to do so.

�� I just- �
Harry closed his eyes. His voice, when it emerged, was tiny. �I just think we
should wait. Be careful. Listen to Theresa.�

�� That�s not
a philosophy for a Gryffindor, and it�s not a philosophy for me,� Draco
whispered. �I�ve wanted you for so long, Harry, and I�ve only had you a few
times. They barely count, except the last one. I want. I want too much.�
He slid his hand beneath Harry�s robes, and the shirt underneath, and skin was
there. �Your knee�s healed. I�m still alive. I didn�t die in the fall. I say we
celebrate.�

�� Harry
hesitated again, as if fighting himself. Draco ran his fingers hard through his
hair, something he knew turned Harry�s scalp into a mass of tingles.

�� Harry
whispered, �Yes. Damn it, yes.� Then he groaned, and then he rolled so that
Draco was beneath him, and said, �I shouldn�t be doing this, but I want it too
much.�

�� Draco
couldn�t prevent the smile that exploded across his face, any more than he
could prevent himself from biting into Harry�s neck and beginning to remove his
robes.

*********

�� Gloria:
Interesting description of Draco�s attitude to Harry. Yes, it�s rooted in
obsession, so a large part of it is possessiveness and the tendency to want to
be the one to do everything for Harry, the primary person in Harry�s life-
including the one who gets revenge for him.
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Learning Life Over