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Burning For Gold	By : clover71 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6148 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books and movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 3
- 4
- 5
Burning For Gold 4/5, a draco/harry fan fiction by clover71 [LiveJournal username]

Rating: MA/ NC-17, Warning: BDSM (specifically wax play), post-war

... continued

14 – an open sky of redemption

word prompt: embrace

Harry liked Draco. Maybe. Probably. Harry wasn't so sure when he'd realised this. Maybe it was somewhere between trying to come up with a reason to make Draco stay and when Draco spilled orange juice on Harry's lap. Or…

It probably started way back after the war when— Harry shook his head. It was one page in his life that he'd ripped off from his history and kept it safely tucked within the deepest recesses of his mind.

This was… this was mental, he knew. He shouldn't be harboring any emotions. At all. That was part of the agreement when he had acceded to go through this bonding thing – whatever. He was pretty sure Dr. Chaturverdi or maybe even Hermione would think he was toying with Draco and they would have his head on a platter if they found out.

And Draco – Harry wasn't sure how Draco felt about him. He was well aware that Draco's needs were only caused by this… thing. This… fixation. This illness.

There is a huge possibility that once Draco was cured, he could easily walk out of Harry's life and would only give Harry a pat on a shoulder and a casual 'thanks' then Draco would go back to being Draco.

Harry, on the other hand, would probably sink back to a life filled with layers and layers of pretenses and the dark corners of the pub would serve as a backdrop.

This shouldn't happen. Harry shouldn't be taking the plunge, shouldn't be too emotionally vulnerable. But…

"Hey Harry!" Seeing Draco made Harry reconsider. Draco's gray eyes gleamed, his gaze pierced through Harry like Draco was peering into Harry's soul.

Harry was certain that his voice cracked when he had said, "Hi Draco," but instead of clearing his throat, he just swallowed until his mouth had gone dry. He could feel Draco's scrutinizing gaze burning a hole on his forehead.

Maybe Draco saw nothing or… or whatever Draco saw didn't seem to faze him. In his ever-so-casual tone, Draco said, "There are five crates of bottled cranberry juice and two crates of champagne at the back. The guy insists that he has it in his purchase order – whatever that is. But Liam claims we haven't ordered any. Could you um…" and ended it with a jerk of his thumb, gesturing at the door that lead to the kitchen.

The nonchalance steaming out of Draco gnawed at Harry, sending a mild twitch to his heart. He followed Draco, nonetheless, and welcomed the underlying problem at hand with open arms. It provided a much-needed distraction for a while. It took about half an hour for Harry to resolve such a miniscule issue then he retired to his office with a migraine the size of Hogwarts.

He must've dozed off. Harry couldn't exactly remember what he'd been doing. His eyes snapped open when he heard the soft knock and he felt something – like static – jolt through his body.

The knock came once more since Harry hadn't uttered a word. When he heard Draco's voice, he sprang up and the words 'come in' skipped out before he could stop himself.

"Hey." Draco poked his head, a trace of timidity wrapped around his voice. He slipped inside as soon as Harry beckoned him over and was balancing a tea cup in one hand. "I thought you might want some tea?"

'Tea is good. Tea is safe.' "Sure. Thanks." Harry asked Draco to join him and felt his heart race when Draco acquiesced.

The china clinked quietly as Draco placed the cup of tea on the table then sank on one of the plush chairs, his gray eyes soft against the dim light that shone from the wall behind Harry. "Does your head still hurt?" Draco kept his voice down and Harry appreciated his effort to keep the atmosphere serene.

Harry no longer felt like there was a whole tribe playing bongos in his head, so he muttered, "Not much," but the way his voice sounded as if he swallowed a bag of flour made it seem paradoxical somehow. He was grateful for the tea though. It felt absolutely heaven when he'd taken a sip, the warm liquid sliding down his throat, carrying a soothing essence that swirled within him. He couldn't help but hum in appreciation, eyes sliding close.

"Good?" Draco's voice, in spite of being soft, hauled Harry back to reality. Something flickered across Draco's eyes, like – maybe he was waiting for Harry to speak.

"Yeah." It wasn't at all convincing but it was the best Harry could offer right now. "It's—it's soothing."

Draco's mouth quirked, a smile curved on his lips. "It's a special blend of tea leaves that I sort of experimented on when I needed something to ease my mind," he said, a certain calm trickling down his face. "Endless hours of work at the Ministry could be horrific at times."

"Ever the potions master, huh?" spilled out of Harry in a playful timbre, coaxing Draco to roll his eyes.

"That's not a potion, Potter. Don't flatter yourself" was Draco's equally light-hearted return. "I don't think I'll need one to get you."

Harry didn't miss the way Draco's lips twitched flirtingly. Something in Harry's chest unfurled. The threads of worry and apprehension untangled in his mind and the weight – heavy as an anvil's – balancing on his shoulders were lifted.

There was so much Harry needed to tell Draco. The truth about why he chose to stay away from the wizarding world might be a good start. Maybe there wasn't anything for him to worry about. Maybe things would be better in the end. Or perhaps Harry should just embrace whatever life threw on his lap.

Optimism was quite redeeming and it was another one of those life lessons that Harry mentally bookmarked in his head.

15 – take this small confession

word prompt: truth

Harry's head was tucked comfortably under his chin and Draco was lazily dragging his fingers across Harry's bare back.

It had been three months since they bonded and sex had been getting better and better. What Draco feared was that he had noticed the painful urges were no longer as intense as it had been.

Sex had been less frequent lately and Draco couldn't help but wonder if Harry had likewise perceived the changes.

When Hermione and Ron came by for a visit the other day, Hermione did say something about Draco looking a lot better. She suggested quite bluntly that he should set up an appointment with Dr. Chaturverdi. Draco had no choice but to agree.

"What's on your mind?" Harry's sleep-laced voice coiled gently around Draco's conscious thoughts. "I can almost hear you thinking."

"Really?" Draco felt the tug at the corner of his lips. "What do you hear then?"

"Hmm…" Harry shifted slightly to press a kiss on Draco's shoulder before lifting his head and said, "I hear you thinking what an awesome… um… fuck you just had." His lips stretched into a smile, teeth showing and Draco couldn't fight the urge to kiss him.

Draco struggled to make his throat work and say, "You know what? I'm not going to argue with that," when he pulled away, not even irritated with the smug look that settled on Harry's face.

'Fuck. What is this?' Draco could feel something bubbling in his chest and wonder if… if…

'No.' He couldn't possibly be falling for Harry. This was a barmy thought. Harry would probably be furious if he found out. Or maybe he wouldn't – whatever. Draco couldn't risk it. Not right now.

A few wordless minutes had passed when Harry spoke again, said, "There's something I need to tell you," disrupting the tranquility that rippled around them in the process.

Draco hummed, asked, "What is it?" in a failed attempt to feign apathy. His brain revved up like an engine, a thousand thoughts rolling to different directions.

'Shit. Shit. Shit.' Had Harry decided to break the bond?

Harry didn't even lift his head, or glance Draco's way. His hand stilled from where it had been drawing circles on Draco's chest. "Do you um… do you remember when you first had the dream? You know? The one you said you had often before you came here?"

It seemed a lifetime ago that it took a while for Draco to recall, to say, "Kind of. It was around a year and probably four months ago. Why?"

"It's just—" A loud, incessant noise ripped across the still room, cutting Harry off.

"Shoot." Draco jerked his arm, prompting Harry to raise his head. "I have an appointment with Dr. Chaturverdi in an hour. Hermione will be here in…" he started, eyes snapping over the clock on the bedside table and reaching out to press something – anything to silence it, "in fifteen minutes to pick me up." He slid out of the bed in a hurry and snatched his clothes from the floor. "We'll talk as soon as I get back, okay?" He leaned over the bed to give Harry a peck on the lips.

"Okay." Harry slumped down on the mattress, sweat glistening over his chest. Draco had to drag himself out of Harry's room. There wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be right now. But…

It took, more or less, forty minutes to get to Dr. Chaturverdi's clinic. It might have taken only thirty in Draco's opinion, but Hermione seemed too careful when driving.

Hermione didn't say much while they waited for Draco's turn, just watched Draco with worry half the time. Draco's eyes swept around the waiting room, trying to elude Hermione's scrutinizing gaze.

It was a huge relief when Draco finally heard his name and despite the fact he was reluctant to see Dr. Chaturverdi, he dashed toward the room where the nurse led him to escape Hermione.

The doctor had a – um… what muggles called mobile phone pressed against her ear when Draco slid inside her clinic – or office. Dr. Chaturverdi waved her hand, gesturing at the chair in front of a large desk. He made his way to the (what he guessed was) synthetic-leather-and-velvet-covered chair, every step weighed with hesitation.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Malfoy" were the doctor's first words. She tossed her phone on the desk and leaned back on her chair . "You're looking much better than the last time I saw you."

"Thanks."

Dr. Chaturverdi grabbed a chart from her desk and started teeming Draco with a series of questions like "are you still having erotic dreams?" and "how often do you have sex?" and "does sex with Mr. Potter always satisfy you?" and "do you have sex on impulse when the need arises?" that made his cheeks burn. Then the doctor left her seat, said, "I'm going to run the same tests to see how you're progressing," and stepped out of the room, leaving Draco to breathe for a while.

Draco was used to having his blood drawn by now so he watched with ease as the doctor took a small piece of his being.

The results came faster than he would've preferred. Prolonging it seemed more appealing. He dreaded to hear there wasn't any progress and the doctor might suggest other forms of treatment. On the other hand, he likewise dreaded to hear that the bonding process was working, that he was getting better, that eventually, he wouldn't need to be around Harry anymore.

"Well," the doctor started, eyes fixed on the stack of papers in her hand. "It seems you're getting better" were the only words that Draco's brain managed to process and the rest of what the doctor had said passed through him like a breeze. 'Fuck!' He was getting better. He was—

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco blinked away the foggy traces of his cogitation, head snapping to meet the doctor's gaze. "Hmm?"

The doctor pressed her lips together and sighed. "I said I might need you to come see me every month at least, so I can monitor your progress. We'll set up another appointment in four weeks, okay?"

Draco left the doctor's office with less spring in his steps than he should have. He should be ecstatic to hear that he was getting better. But no. Getting better would mean that Harry would no longer have a reason to be in close proximity with Draco all the time. And Draco… he would no longer have a reason to stay.

Why should it matter? He wondered. Wasn't he with Harry only because it was necessary? Because it was what he needed to do to keep himself sane or… or something?

Hermione didn't make things any easier. She probably asked more questions than the doctor did on their drive home. She kept throwing Draco a cursory glance until Draco couldn't take it anymore, said, "I'm fine, Hermione. It's not like I'm dying. I'm… just tired."

When they got back to the pub, Harry had his hands full of a group of young men and women rowdily laughing near the corner. Their eyes met for a moment and the gleam that went past beneath Harry's spectacles made Draco's heart jump. The small smile that sat on Harry's lips was enough for Draco to pull himself together.

Harry breezed through him, said, "We'll talk later," and careened toward the kitchen, calling out to Liam and Kurt and a couple of busboys.

It wasn't so busy the rest of the night and at Draco's fifth hour, Tyler had told him to "get some rest, mate. You don't look too good. I got you covered," so he was able to retire earlier than usual.

Not long after, he heard the jingling of keys followed by his door opening then Harry's voice floated through his silent flat. "Draco?"

Before he could let out a single peep though, Harry found him in his bedroom, shivering under the covers, gaze locked on the closed window, watching white flecks of snow sprinkling like fairy dusts outside.

"Hey."

Draco felt the mattress dip behind him, the warmth of Harry's voice draping around him like a warm fleece blanket.

"Are you okay? Tyler said you were sick." Harry's fingers brushed through his hair, his body pressed against Draco's back.

Draco was inclined to face Harry, to say, "I'm okay," and let a comfortable lull reverberate between them before he told Harry about his visit to Dr. Chaturverdi.

"Well, that's good" fell from Harry's lips and Draco wasn't sure if he was reading too much into it but Harry's words seemed weighed with apprehension. "At least whatever we've been doing works."

The phrase stabbed at Draco's heart. 'Whatever we've been doing.' These words echoed in Draco's head like an enigmatic message being engraved in his hindbrain. 'Whatever we've been doing.' He was so tempted to scream at Harry, to tell him that… that they had been having sex – that was what they had been doing.

"That reminds me…" Harry's voice smashed against the thin glass wall of Draco's rumination, creating web-like cracks that spread rapidly until it shattered into a million pieces. "I think you deserve to know… something."

Draco took note of the way Harry dithered. A ball of dread swelled in his chest, but he said, "What is it?" nonetheless, coaxing Harry to go on.

"Well…" Harry toyed with the fabric of Draco's jumper, his eyes falling anywhere but refused to meet Draco's own. "You did say you started having dreams more than a year ago. I think I know why and… and you have the right to know."

Draco sat up and gave Harry his undivided attention, pushing away stray thoughts that were lingering in his head.

"Remember when you were sent to Liverpool to drive away dementors? I uh… I happened to be there at the same time, visiting Dudley and his family."

A vague memory of the incident touched Draco's mind. He dug deeper and deeper until he could see images in his head. He nodded, letting Harry know he remembered, and closed his eyes to let Harry's voice guide him.

"I… I felt the dementors' presence and knew that someone could be in trouble. I found Ron first and by the time I found you, the dementors were drawing the last threads of your emotions and you um, you were already unconscious and…" The rest of Harry's words faded like a dream echoing in Draco's ears.

He remembered it now: the cold draft coiling around his chest while two dementors hovered above him, sucking every thread of emotion and energy and had left him almost empty. Then he remembered a gleam of light – blue and white and glowing.

"It was you" fell from Draco's lips. His eyes met Harry's, and something flashed at the back of Draco' s mind. "You were the one who saved me, brought me back."

"Um…" Harry's eyes dropped somewhere on the mattress. "I had to give you CPR, you know, muggles' way of resuscitating someone and… and… I think something happened then— right when my um… my lips touched yours and I started to—to breathe life back into you."

It all came back to Draco now, pouring like waterfalls. "How—how come I don't remember much of it?" he asked, dragging his hand through his hair. "How come I barely remember that case or… or being in Liverpool for that matter?"

There was a pregnant pause before Harry opened his mouth then closed it, a look of uncertainty settling on his face.

Minutes stretched without either of them uttering a sound. Then Harry finally started with, "I uh…" before sliding back into a deep pool of contemplation.

Draco called out Harry's name to yank him back to reality, to let Harry know that Draco was waiting. Waiting for the truth or whatever it was Harry meant to share.

"I had to obliviate part of your memory, specifically of that day" were the words that spilled out of Harry's lips. "The bond or… or whatever that held our thoughts, our emotions together was too strong that I had to block a part of your mind. If I hadn't, y-you uh… you would've dragged us both into coma."

It suddenly all made sense now. The dream – it could've been leftover traces of what had happened and—

Harry's words caught up with Draco, dragging the scattered pieces of the puzzle together. Something clenched in Draco's chest and he felt as if the room was closing in on him. Could this… could this mean that he did have a life debt? Could that be why he had recurring dreams?

Draco hadn't realised he had said this out loud until Harry shook his head, said, "Not really. Whatever you owed me, you were able to repay almost immediately after you came to." Harry took his glasses off to wipe the sweat that had gathered between his eyes then slid the spectacles back. "Dementors took advantage of the bond's distraction. They um… they snuck up behind me but you stopped a couple from attacking me before the other aurors arrived, so…" He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

Whatever light that was shed on the shadowy part of Draco's mind dimmed, leaving him befuddled. "So if… if I didn't have a life debt…"

"The bond might have triggered the fixation" was the theory Harry offered.

~ tbc ~
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Burning For Gold