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Keep It Simple, Stupid	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8388 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last
chapter.

Chapter Six�What Draco Wants

�� Draco had
always preferred to use his wand to deal with troublemakers. The Muggle method
was much less dignified, and you ran the risk of getting hurt, too. He had
watched in confusion and irritation when some pure-blood wizards in school,
even some in Slytherin, decided to roll around on the floor like dogs and punch
each other.

�� But now he
thought he understood why some of those wizards had chosen this method of
payback, untraditional though it was: it felt so much more satisfying.

�� The crack
as he punched Potter in the jaw echoed throughout the alley. Potter fell
backwards, sprawling over Bellatrix�s body for a moment. Several muffled,
pained noises that Draco was not inclined to listen to burbled up from his
mouth. Draco stalked closer, rubbing his stinging knuckles but more than ready
to do that again.

�� You fucker,�
he hissed. �Do you understand what you�ve cost me, in terms of time and
worry and sheer fear, these past weeks?�

�� Yes,�
Potter muttered. He sat up cradling his jaw, wincing with every movement, but
he could still talk, and that was too much for Draco�s peace of mind. �I
had an excellent idea of what would happen to me, and to you, when I began this
charade.�

�� Obviously
not,� Draco said coldly. �Or you would have realized that I have no intention
of letting you emerge alive from this alley.�

�� He had
hoped the threat would scare Potter. And he certainly would have lashed out
again if he had spotted a smile on the idiot�s face. He didn�t expect Potter to
give him a long, keen look, and then to lay his wand down, next to the robes
and mask he had worn when he pretended to be Prince, and spread his hands
defenselessly.

�� Draco
clenched his fists. He wanted more than anything else to kick Potter in the
groin, or punch him again, or just fall on top of him and whale away with his
fists until he heard bones cracking, but everything he had learned and
internalized in the past few years told him not to attack a helpless enemy.

�� He didn�t
know how long he stood there, trembling from head to foot and wishing there was
a harmless but painful curse that fit his mood. Then he turned abruptly away
and said, �I reckon I should let you get on with transporting my aunt and
Yaxley into the Ministry and taking credit for ending the Death Eaters. Again.
It�s not as though you need me there, is it?�

�� And he
Apparated, hoping that the crack would startle Potter as much as the
sound of Draco�s fist slamming into his jaw had, and that it would prove enough
satisfaction to have had the last word.

*

�� It didn�t,
of course. Irritation and curiosity corroded his resolve to have nothing more
to do with Potter. He sat at home, staring into his Firewhiskey more than
drinking it, and still wanted to know what the git had thought he was doing.
He could have pretended to be Prince and worked out his brilliant plan on the
remaining Death Eaters without irritating Draco. He didn�t need to make efforts
to involve Draco in the fights and captures at all.

�� He
certainly hadn�t needed to flirt with him like that.

�� No matter
how he turned the facts around in his head, Draco couldn�t get them to fit. Of
course, if Potter was enough of a wanker, they didn�t need to fit. He
could have involved Draco just to taunt him with the thought of what he�d never
have.

�� But those
glimpses of unwonted emotion in Potter�s eyes, in the Ministry and after they�d
finished their duel in the abandoned house, meant that Draco couldn�t think it
was that simple. Maybe this was another game, to lure Draco into coming
close again, but it seemed awfully complicated�and sophisticated�a game for
Potter to play for a very small gain.

�� As much as
Draco would have liked to believe otherwise, he knew he simply was not as
important to Potter as Potter was to him. So he should have played one game,
perhaps, with Draco, and then neglected to play others.

�� Draco
wanted answers.

�� Tomorrow,
he would get them if he had to Body-Bind Potter and keep him in one of the
Ministry�s unused storage rooms, sans food and water, until he talked.

*

�� He noticed
a difference in the Ministry the moment he stepped into the Atrium. People
glanced at him from the corners of their eyes and uttered small envious sounds.
Then they mentioned his name loudly enough for him to hear, which wasn�t that
unusual, but in this case, the tones of the words seemed to be composed of awe
and longing.

�� The same
Ministry workers who had spat �Malfoy� as if the name were profanity for months
now met his eyes and nodded, as though he had always been an honored colleague.
More than one person insisted on stopping him to ask how his work was going.
Draco answered politely�his mother had ensured he could answer questions like
these no matter how confused he was�and felt his uneasiness grow as he took the
lift up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

�� Potter had
said something, obviously. But what? Draco could hardly imagine that the
anti-Potter feeling in the Ministry was so strong that he had gained everyone�s
admiration by punching the Savior in the jaw.

�� He stepped into the corridor that led towards
his office, and froze. Minister Scrimgeour was waiting there, with an
uncomfortable but resigned expression on his face, and behind him were at least
several of the reporters who had accompanied him the other day when Potter and
Draco returned from their capture of Rodolphus and Dolohov. They all focused
their attention and their cameras on Draco. So did the selfsame Aurors who had
sneered at him and glanced pointedly the other way only the day before.

�� As Draco
stood there, astonished, they brought their hands together and began to applaud
him. Vaguely, somewhere, Scrimgeour was talking about �Draco Malfoy, the Hero
of the Hour,� and various people came up to pump his hand and explain how brave
he was and how they had always known he would make someone of himself at last.

�� Draco held
his smile, letting it grow as he realized he wasn�t about to be attacked, and
listened. He quickly gathered that they credited him with the capture of Yaxley
and saving Potter�s life during his duel with Bellatrix.

�� Exactly the
way it had happened. This time, Potter had told the truth, and still made Draco
out to be a hero.

�� Draco was
sure that some of the looks he received were feigned, given the determination
endemic to the Ministry to curry favor with whoever was on top at the moment.
But in others, in certain stiff nods and firm handshakes and the way that his
colleagues met his gaze, he sensed that he had passed a test and finally
dispelled the suspicions that had kept them wary of him since he entered the
Auror program. He didn�t have the sincere respect of everyone in the Ministry.
But he had it from most of the people who mattered, and even Scrimgeour didn�t
snap at him or make barbed remarks over the necessity of acknowledging the
courage of a Malfoy.

�� It was all
very nice, and when Draco let himself believe in and enjoy it, it let sunlight
into a corner of his soul that felt neglected, dusty, disused.

�� But none of
that lessened his resolve to get Potter alone. He had to. He had
to know the man�s motives for painting Draco to look so good�which was, after
all, the way he always should have looked�after Draco had hurt him, and when
he�d spent so much time in the last few weeks making trouble for him.

*

�� Potter was
in his office, alone. He chewed the end of a quill as he contemplated the
parchment in front of him, which Draco sincerely hoped wasn�t a report.
Potter�s scrawl decorated it in a maze of black lines that suggested other
Aurors had gone blind trying to read his script before now.

�� He didn�t
bother knocking, but strode in and locked the door behind him with several
charms that no one else in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was likely
to know, unless they�d been friends with Lucius Malfoy three decades ago in
Hogwarts. He turned back around and found Potter staring at him with absolute
surprise on his features.

�� Draco
licked his lips and tried not to admit to himself how very good it felt to
surprise Potter this way.

�� I want to
know why,� he said. �The whole story. All of it. And if you don�t
give it to me, I sincerely hope that you don�t need to sit down for the next
week.� He aimed his wand at Potter and held it steady.

�� Potter
considered him with the same weighty gaze he�d given Draco during that moment
in the alcove. Then he nodded and set his quill aside. He didn�t make any
sudden movements as he locked his hands together behind his head and crossed
his legs in front of him, and that alone made it easy for Draco to put up with
him adopting such a casual attitude. This wasn�t casual for Potter at all, no
more than it was for Draco.

�� All
right,� Potter said. �I�ve been looking for a way to get rid of the Death
Eaters for a while. The spells around the manor house, the ones that prevented
anyone who didn�t bear a Dark Mark from entering, were the biggest obstacle at
first. It took intense research before I was able to figure out that the ward
was actually a variation on an anti-trespassing spell, one that allowed the
caster to set conditions on who could come in and who was kept out. And then I
had to read the memories of one of the captive Death Eaters to learn the exact
wording that Voldemort had used. �Only those marked by the Dark Lord may enter.��

�� Draco
snorted. �You don�t have a Dark Mark, Potter. That doesn�t explain��

�� Apparently
Potter wasn�t entirely cowed, since he was still able to interrupt. �The
wording didn�t specify the Dark Mark. It just said that the Dark Lord had to
have been the one to create the marking. And, well.� He lifted a hand to his
forehead, knocking back the fringe to display his scar.

�� Draco
narrowed his eyes, reluctantly impressed. �So that was the reason you came in
alone?�

�� Potter
nodded. �One of them, yes. By that time, there was a more personal reason.�

�� Draco
folded his arms. �Tell me.�

�� You�d been
watching out for the remaining Death Eaters for years,� Potter said quietly. �I
didn�t want to simply arrest them and steal the victory from under you. It
would have made it look as if you couldn�t do your job. So I made sure, when
the Death Eaters attacked me, that you were there and could play the part of a
hero.� He grimaced a little. �That didn�t work out right the first time. I
tried to play up the fact that you�d saved my life in the pub, knocking me to
the floor to avoid a curse, but no one else paid much attention. I made sure
they had no choice but to acknowledge your heroism in the last two attacks.�

�� Draco shook
his head, so many questions crowding to the front of his tongue that he truly
wasn�t sure which one would emerge first. Finally, he said, �And why did it
matter to you what other people thought of me?�

�� Potter�s
eyes became piercing. Though Draco knew he was the one in the right and Potter
was the one on trial, he still shivered. It was difficult to face those eyes in
their brightness and clarity.

�� Because
I�ve been attracted to you for an awful long time,� Potter said calmly. His
voice didn�t tremble the way Draco�s have if he were required to bare his
heart. �I can�t remember a time since we started Auror training that I didn�t
admire your looks. And then it became admiration for your strength, for the way
you did the right thing even when people kept despising you for your name.
There couldn�t have been a clearer indication that you�d finally learned
blood isn�t everything, and you couldn�t be a good or a respected person just
because of who your father was. It drove me mad to see everyone else ignoring
you just when they should have been supporting and helping you.� Potter�s fists
clenched. �And unfortunately, by that time, I�d crafted my surface persona so
well that no one believed me when I tried to support you.�

�� Draco gave
his head a little shake. �Explain that one, please.� And then he was
annoyed with himself, because he hadn�t meant to add the �please.�

�� It
brightened Potter�s eyes, though. He even gave Draco a small smile. Draco bit
his lips so he wouldn�t smile back.

�� I�ve been
acting for years,� said Potter, with a slight shrug. �I learned the basics
during the war, when I had to maintain my cheerful and confident exterior no
matter how afraid I was of facing Voldemort. It was for the sake of other
people. And when I tried to act like myself after the war, I found that no one
wanted to listen. They wanted the hero. They wanted someone who
reacted to his success the way they thought they would have reacted. So that
was what I gave them.�

�� The
playboy?�

�� The result
of rumor, strategic appearances at certain times, and a goodly number of
friends.� Potter sighed. �I could have acted like myself in spite of public
disapproval, I reckon, but then I wouldn�t have got nearly as much done. They
listen to me this way. They�re sure they�re manipulating me, because a certain
good-natured stupidity is part of the persona. So everyone accepts it when I do
something that�s slightly unorthodox or uncomfortable, because I present it in
an orthodox manner.� He glanced at Draco, and again a small smile quirked his
lips. �So they accept you as a hero. They never would have if I�d shown that I
wouldn�t be their tool, and then tried to support your claim to respect.�

�� Draco
folded his arms. �And it never once occurred to you to drop the act and
approach me like a normal person? Or accept my help in defeating the
Death Eaters, instead of using Prince as a front?�

�� As for the
second question,� Potter said, �I know I�m a good actor. I wasn�t certain about
you. You wore honesty on your face far too often that first evening I was
present, didn�t you know? The others didn�t notice only because they really are
stupid. I could have spoken to you, but that would probably have prejudiced
your reactions. And that could have been deadly, at least until Dolohov and
Bellatrix were under control.�

�� You
trusted me to risk my life, but not yours?�

�� Yes.�
Potter�s gaze was placid, as if he had no idea why Draco might find that
insulting.

�� And really,
Draco reckoned, it wasn�t as big a deal as it could have been. He would have
done something similar if he had been in control of the situation. Certainly,
Potter�s public persona didn�t make him seem trustworthy, and if Potter had
admired his honesty and his conscience�

�� Yes, he
might not have seemed like someone capable of playing adoring Death Eater and
fellow conspirator, even for the few weeks it would have been necessary.

�� That still
leaves unanswered the question of why you never approached me before this,� he
said. �And why you flirted with me at all. If you wanted to make me look like a
hero, you could have done it without that.�

�� Potter�s
smile turned wistful. �There, I admit, I was purely selfish,� he said. �I knew
it was the only chance I�d have to kiss you or to touch you at all. I wanted
that�more than is comfortable to admit, anyway.� For the first time, a flush
slid across his cheeks. �And a few years ago, I did try to approach you and
drop the act as much as possible so that you could see I honestly wanted you.
It didn�t work.�

�� You
didn�t!� Draco said, startled. �I would have remembered that.�

�� You didn�t
even notice.� Potter gave him a fond look. �You were too focused on your work.
And so I gave up and contented myself with watching from a distance. Then I
realized I had a way to destroy the last Death Eaters, give you the respect you
wanted, and get a chance to touch you at the same time. It wouldn�t be for long
or be nearly enough. But there it was. And I�m not a saint, Draco, even if I�m
a considerably better person than I was a few years ago. I couldn�t resist the
temptation. I told myself that, even though I was making you embarrassed and
uncomfortable, it would be worthwhile because in the end I�d get you what you
most desired.�

�� Draco
closed his eyes. He had not known what he expected from Potter�s confession,
but it not been that. He had never heard of a scheme so Gryffindor and so
Slytherin at the same time. He had never realized that someone like Potter
might pine after him.

�� And to hear
that he had resigned himself to not having Draco�

�� You could
have tried flirting openly again,� he said, staring at Potter. �I might have
listened. You don�t know I wouldn�t have.�

�� Why would
you?� Potter stared at him with honest surprise in his expression. �You hate
me. I�ve accepted that. It�s something I�m sorry for, but it�s not something I
can change. And after the stunts I pulled in the last few weeks, I know that
you only have more reason to hate me.� He flipped his hand off his brow, giving
Draco a small salute. �I�ve made the best impact on your life I can, and I hope
you�ll consider the negative ones that came along with it a fair price to pay.�
He turned back to the report in front of him.

�� Draco shook
his head. �You�re an idiot, Potter,� he whispered.

�� One corner
of Potter�s mouth twisted up, though he kept his eyes on the parchment. He had already
dipped his quill in the ink again and begun to write. �I know that,� he said.
�A smarter man would have figured out a way to approach you years ago. But I�ve
laid out the truth, Draco. I swear that that was it, it should explain
everything, and that I�m not holding anything back. Go away now, please?�

�� Draco
crossed the distance between them in three strides and seized Potter�s
shoulder. The green eyes that looked up at him were hard, hiding the
vulnerability that had shown in them a minute before.

�� I let you
punch me yesterday,� Potter said lowly, �because I knew I deserved it. But
healing that cost me enough problems. If I let you punch me again, I stand a
good chance of making other people wonder, and��

�� Draco
kissed him.

�� He took
good care to make it a kiss as hard as the punch, to show that he hadn�t
forgiven Potter so much as accepted that his motives were utterly different
from what Draco had assumed they were. The man was still an idiot for
not approaching him openly from the beginning, and making more of an effort to
gain Draco�s attention. He was an idiot for deciding that he should act like a
fool instead of like himself, no matter what it won for other people. He was�

�� He was a
bloody good kisser, now that he seemed to have decided some significant time
period had passed and he could return Draco�s snog with interest instead of
sitting passively under his tongue and teeth.

�� Potter
surged to his feet, his hands making their way to Draco�s shoulders. Draco
gripped back, keeping up the intense pressure, the demand for an honest
response. And Potter gave that to him, with a tongue that scraped places in
Draco�s mouth he hadn�t known existed, and little moans and sighs that sounded
delicious. He was gasping by the time the kiss ended. His mouth was wet and
swollen, and his eyes looked dazed.

�� You�re
giving me a second chance,� he whispered.

�� Draco
nodded, taking one of Potter�s hands between his own.

�� Why?�

�� Because I want
to,� Draco said fiercely. �And I�m tired of denying myself things I want. Do
you know how many times in the past few years I�ve wished you were different,
that you didn�t act like the world worshipped you? I wanted to share
conversations about spell modification with you. I wanted to be someone you
trusted and talked to, because I assumed that your friends knew the better you.
I wasn�t wrong about that, was I?�

�� Potter
shook his head with a frown. �But I still can�t give you everything you
want, Draco. I can�t give you public acknowledgment or��

�� Yes, you
can,� Draco said, and his tone made Potter shut up and listen to him. �Because
that�s part of the second chance. You�ll show the world what you really are.
The intelligent, determined, focused Auror. The amount of energy you put into
playacting should go into solving crimes and persuading allies instead. And you
don�t seem to enjoy the pretense anymore.�

�� Potter ran
his free hand through his hair. �I don�t. But��

�� You�ll be
what you are openly,� Draco said. �The Savior of the Wizarding World. The
Auror.� He brought Potter�s knuckles to his lips, watching him intently. �My
boyfriend. That�s what you give me, or I walk.�

�� Potter�s
eyes blazed. �There was never a choice,� he said, his voice fragile with hope.
�Draco, I�I never asked for this because I thought I wouldn�t get it. And
there�s no point in reaching for the utterly impossible. But if you�re
willing to give me a chance to earn it, then there�s nothing I wouldn�t
do to show you I want this.�

�� Draco let
his triumphant smile work its way across his face. �Then, Harry Potter,� he
said, and kissed his cheek, �shall we go show the new you to the rest of the
Ministry? I�ll enjoy the expressions of shock on their faces.�

�� It could
lessen the respect you�ve won,� Harry warned. He was holding back still,
hovering, darting little glances at Draco as if he expected Draco to announce this
was a joke any minute.

�� In the
places where that respect is real, it won�t,� Draco said. �And I want this
more.�

�� An
expression of incredible tenderness overcame Harry�s face. He reached out, took
Draco�s jaw in his hand, and kissed him again. This time it was only a chaste
brushing of lips, but it set Draco on fire anyway, made him want to dance and
sing and shout.

�� Let�s,
then,� Harry said. �And you can go back to being the only Slytherin around
here. You�ll probably do it better, anyway.�

�� I don�t
know,� Draco said. �I might just have learned the virtue of simplicity.�

�� Harry
grinned at him and firmed the clasp of his hand. They crossed to the door of
Harry�s office side-by-side.

�� For the
first time in more years than he could remember, Draco was gleefully
anticipating what would happen next�both in the corridors of the Ministry and
when he got Harry home. It was a vast improvement on the gray boredom and sharp
worry and cynical amusement he�d drifted through so many of his days in.

�� When I
grew a conscience, I forgot to have fun.

�� It�s a
good thing I�ll soon have a lover who�s experienced in both.

�� Finite.

*

�� Thrnbrooke,
rhaniyago, Redmeadow: Thanks for reviewing!

�� Dezra:
Well, Draco took it better than Harry expected, let�s put it that way ;).

�� McAbacus:
Afraid this wasn�t as funny as the others, but I hope it was satisfactory in
other ways.

�� Hellsbelle:
Thanks! I hope both you and your sister enjoy your meals.

�� Mangacat:
This chapter provided a good explanation of Harry�s motives, I hope?

�� Redlightspin:
As Harry explained, he was the only one who could have gotten past the wards
Voldemort left on the manor house, but it took him a long time to realize that.

�� YG: I think
Draco was looking too much in the wrong direction to suspect Harry was Prince,
really.

�� Chrissy: And
that�s why Harry had to flirt.
- 5
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Keep It Simple, Stupid

Chapter Six�What Draco Wants