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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Thanks again for the reviews! Although I didn�t quite reach
the point I wanted to with the last chapter (it was supposed to include most of
what�s in this one), I�m still quite enjoying this story, and how it unfolds
itself.

Chapter 8- A Dinner To Which Many Adjectives Could Be
Applied

�� Harry found
himself wondering how many corridors one house needed by the time Draco
escorted him through yet another one, the ceiling arched twelve feet above
their heads, the pale walls echoing back the slightest noise they made, the
carpets beneath their feet brightly-colored and no doubt the height of good
taste in some world Harry wasn�t part of. Now and then the usually bare walls
did carry a tapestry, or a birdcage with a small, delicate singing bird in it,
or a fountain, but Malfoys in general seemed to have less taste for decoration
than Harry would have assumed they did.

�� If he had
ever bothered to think about it, of course. Which he hadn�t. He had put Draco
Malfoy quite happily out of his head after Hogwarts, and he would have remained
there forever if he hadn�t chosen to intrude himself.

�� Harry shook
his head as he and Draco turned through yet another archway and into a hallway
flanked with doors. �Wouldn�t it have been simpler for your mother to come to
us?� he asked.

�� No
whinging,� Draco said loftily. �That�s not polite.�

�� I was
making an observation, Draco,� Harry said, and sculpted his voice into the
sweet politeness that he used with the Ministry officials when they wanted him
to do something stupid. �Evidently, you couldn�t recognize that, living as you
do in a realm of elevated diction. My apologies.�

�� Draco shot
him a narrow-eyed, unimpressed glance. Harry made sure his beam was absolutely blinding.

�� He has
to get rid of me if I�m too annoying, doesn�t he? He cares more about his
reputation than he ever will about me.

�� And
childish as his way of fighting back was, Harry thought it legitimate. Draco
was trying to imagine a world for him that he didn�t want to share.

*

�� God
knows what Mother will make of him. She already thinks that my courting him is
a bad idea.

�� Draco
ignored the temptation to turn around and go back to his bedroom, however. For
one thing, he didn�t care what his mother thought. He would like to have her
approval, but it wasn�t necessary. And for another, he didn�t intend to let
Harry win that easily.

�� He made
sure that his hand was in the middle of Harry�s back as they entered the dining
hall at last. That was the proper way for a courting couple to walk. Harry
didn�t know the meaning of the gesture, of course, and Draco didn�t intend to
enlighten him until he knew that Harry wouldn�t react in a barbarous fashion,
but his mother would see and understand it.

�� Narcissa
sat at the far end of their broad table, of course, and was just rising to her
feet, a necklace of pearls glittering at her throat. Draco took a moment to
survey her. Everything about his mother was pale, and had been since his father
died. She had pale skin, blonde hair only a few shades less fair than her
complexion, gentle blue eyes, and, more often than not, as now, white gowns and
garlands of white roses decorating her neck and wrists. Draco could see why
some people had thought her fragile, in the past, and even spoken to and of her
as if she were a simpleton.

�� More than
one person had regretted that, in the past. Narcissa might move in more limited
spheres than Lucius had, or than Draco did himself, but on her own private
ground, the ground of high society, few people could challenge her.

�� Now she
conveyed elegant, and eloquent, disapproval by doing nothing more than standing
still and raising an eyebrow. Harry flushed. Draco just nodded as if they had
received a courteous greeting.

�� Good
evening, Mother. Harry is here to join us for dinner.�

�� Narcissa
looked properly at Harry for the first time. Draco was watching closely, and
knew her well. He could see the way her eyes fluttered down in what was almost
a blink. She was surprised by his appearance, and, no doubt, how well he looked
in the dark robes Draco had chosen for him. Draco ran a hand possessively up
and down Harry�s spine, and resisted a smirk by the smallest margin. He was
going to prove everyone wrong about how well Harry would fit into his
life, and that included both Harry and his mother.

�� Hello, Mr.
Potter,� said Narcissa then. �How nice to meet you.� She held her hand out,
palm down.

�� Harry
either made a wild guess as to what to do, or he had learned more in those few
Ministry functions he�d attended than Draco thought he had. He walked over to Narcissa,
caught her hand, and kissed the back of it. Draco�s mother gave him one of the
small cool smiles that was her stock in trade.

�� Good
evening, Mrs. Malfoy,� said Harry. �Draco was telling me what an inspiration
you�ve been to him, and how the life he�s led since the war is in fact mostly
due to your influence.�

�� Draco
stiffened for a moment. Narcissa would resent that implication. She disapproved
of Draco�s idleness as much as she had of his obsession with Harry, and hinted
constantly and softly at how much she wished he would marry and have children,
to fill the house with the noise of laughter again. The way that Harry had
phrased his supposed compliment, however, it was unobjectionable, and
protesting it would seem stupid.

�� Harry had
just managed to insult them both quite thoroughly in a small space of time.

�� How- nice,�
Narcissa said. She gave no sign that she thought anything was wrong even in the
tightness of her lips, which now slightly broadened their smile, by which Draco
knew she was very angry indeed. �Well. I hope you will consider walking around
the house after dinner, Harry. Trippy can show you many beautiful rooms and
ancient treasures.�

�� Harry
stepped away from Narcissa and drew her chair out for her. She had to accept or
look insulting, Draco knew, and his mother had always eschewed such obvious
insults. She sat, arranging her skirts about her, and Harry gently pushed in
the chair again until she sat the perfect distance from the table.

�� Thank you,
but Draco already showed me enough of the house on the way here,� Harry said,
and then sat down in the chair next to Narcissa, which meant Draco had to walk
all the way around the table to take his place in the chair beside Harry. �It�s
a lovely place, Mrs. Malfoy.�

�� Please,
call me Narcissa.�

�� Oh, yes,
Draco thought, concealing a wince as he sat down next to Harry. Very angry.
She�d no doubt been counting on using Harry�s tour of the house to have some
time alone with her son, so that she could tell him what she thought. And that
was dashed as well, thanks to Harry�s inability to take a hint.

�� Before
Draco could interject himself into the conversation and turn it in a more
profitable direction, the first course appeared on their plates. Draco nodded
as he studied it. The house-elves had chosen bowls of a cold soup that one of
his ancestors, Great-Great-Grandmother Locusta Malfoy, had the credit for
inventing. The bowls were silver, and the soup clear and smelling like a
garden. Draco wondered how in the world anyone could resist that taste.

�� Harry
didn�t seem inclined to try. On the other hand, he plunged his spoon into his
soup, lifted several drops of it to his lips, and then slurped. Loudly.

�� Draco�s
hand clenched on his spoon hard enough to make it ring off the side of the
bowl. He refused to believe that this was luck.

�� Harry,� he
hissed, �please don�t do that. We keep a rudimentary code of manners here, at
least.�

�� Harry
fluttered his eyes open, looking startled. �Oh. I am sorry. I so rarely
eat food so good that I�m afraid I forgot myself.�

�� He caught a
drop of soup escaping down his cheek with his tongue, and met Draco�s gaze with
a deliberately unshielded look while he carefully licked his lips free of the
wetness.

�� Draco gave
a little snarl. He�d wanted to see a look like that, an unabashed celebration
of sensuality- but he�d wanted to see it when Harry finally gave in and let
Draco take him of his own free will, not when he was at the same table
with his mother. And it affected him anyway, making him harden at once.

�� Well.
Two people can play this game.

�� He returned
the smile, and then began to make polite conversation with his mother on the
affairs of people they both knew, while his hand, invisible from Narcissa�s
position, dipped under the table.

*

�� Harry was
having fun.

�� First,
Draco�s way of fighting back wasn�t working. It undoubtedly would have if Harry
hadn�t cast the spell to deaden his nerves, but he had, and so the hand running
lightly up and down his inner thigh felt more like a biting insect than a touch
that would make him crumple and bite his lip. He didn�t even have to blush. He
knew Draco would hardly show his mother what he was doing.

�� Second,
Draco obviously didn�t have any idea why it hadn�t worked, and shot him more
than one baffled and almost betrayed look.

��

�� Third,
Harry had managed to turn every dish so far into a feast of rudeness and bad
manners, and in less obvious ways than slurping the soup. He could hardly be
blamed if he splattered the fish�s sauce on the sleeve of Draco�s robe; he
wasn�t used to eating food so posh. He took a large bite of the hot duck, and
then of course he had to gulp the wine to cool the burn in his throat.
Wine wasn�t meant to be gulped, but he didn�t know that until Draco explained
it to him between clenched teeth. Then Harry looked at him with large eyes and
apologized in a soft voice.

�� Fourth,
Draco knew all this and couldn�t do anything about it, while Narcissa Malfoy�s
lip curled more and more, and the sneer entered her eyes. Harry had to look
hard to see it, but he�d been trained to read people�s faces while they tried
to hide things far worse than a bit of contempt. It was there, and he knew he
was making himself look worse and worse in her eyes- a completely unsuitable
match for her son.

�� Draco might
think he was independent of his mother, but Narcissa Malfoy�s words had an
impact. Harry had heard her name mentioned again and again in connection with
those Ministry politics he refused to touch, and he had captured the
information as he did most pieces that might someday come in useful to an
Auror. If she disapproved enough, she would make sure that none of Draco�s
social circles would greet him and Harry with anything but scorn. Draco, who
had an active social life- surely- wouldn�t like that.

�� The biggest
danger was making sure that he didn�t drink too much wine, and that was hardly
a challenge. Harry had set up ambushes before in pubs and other places where
not to drink was to stand out and look suspicious. He kept his wand in his
sleeve, and when he felt an unpleasant drowsiness intruding on his nerves, he
touched it and thought hard about the Sobriety Charm. In a few moments, his
senses were clear again.

�� Then came
dessert. Harry concealed a snort. It looked like nothing so much as cream and
icing sculpted into a swan. Oh, doubtless there was a cake somewhere under
there, but Harry couldn�t make out. Unlike the rest of the dishes, it didn�t
simply appear. Trippy wheeled it out on a silver cart, and stood proudly behind
it while Narcissa and Draco made soft admiring noises.

�� Harry then
decided that he didn�t need to conceal his snort. By now, after all, he was
supposed to be drunk. He very obviously muffled his laughter in his sleeve, and
Draco turned on him at once, eyes narrowed.

�� Then he
said, as if something had only now occurred to him, �Oh, Mother, I didn�t tell
Harry about the custom when I have a lover here.� Harry knew he didn�t
imagine the way Mrs. Malfoy�s mouth tightened at Draco�s name for him. �Do you
mind if I pursue it?�

�� Not at
all, Draco.� Narcissa pushed her chair gently back and rose from the table. �I
find myself not in the mood for dessert, anyway.�

�� Harry
didn�t know what Draco�s custom was, but he knew he didn�t want to be left
alone here with him while it happened. He started to stand. �Let me accompany
you, Narcissa- �

�� And then he
realized Draco�s hand had moved from his thigh to his arse, and was cupping it
in a distinctly lewd fashion that Narcissa couldn�t miss if he stood. His face
flushing, he sat back down.

�� That is
not necessary, Harry.� Narcissa�s mouth was crimped up like a crumpled
tablecloth. �It is true that my son shares his dessert with- all his lovers.�
She paused delicately, and Harry knew she probably meant the mention of the
number to dismay him. It only made Harry more cheerful. If Draco was used to
multiple sexual partners, he would get tired of Harry eventually and want to
pursue someone else. It was just a matter of time. �I do not wish to intrude.�

�� She left in
a swirl of skirts. Trippy was levitating the cake from the center of the cart
into the center of the table.

�� Harry
coughed. �I don�t think I could eat a bite more- � And then he caught his
breath, because Draco�s hand had moved off his arse and up to his face. He shot
him a glare.

�� You�ve
behaved yourself very badly, Harry,� Draco breathed. �I know it was all on
purpose.� He cupped Harry�s cheek, his thumb rubbing his lips. �And as a
result, I don�t think you should have silverware for this meal.� He waved his
wand, and Harry�s plate, fork, knives, and spoons vanished. �I�m going to feed
you instead.�

�� Not
hungry, I said,� Harry said.

�� Sit down,�
Draco said, and the glint in his eyes had turned threatening. �Or I�ll project
an image into my mother�s bedroom of what you and I did in the pool yesterday.�

�� You would
not,� Harry said, horrified.

�� I would
linger on every groan.� Draco�s eyes sparked. �Sit still.�

�� He leaned
forward, cut a piece of the swan�s wing, and set it back on his plate. Then he
dipped his fingers gently into the cream and held them out towards Harry�s
mouth. �Come on, now,� he whispered.

�� Harry
reluctantly opened his mouth, glaring all the while. Draco had reversed matters
so that there was no way he wouldn�t win. If Harry just ate the cake, he would
still get him to do what he wanted. If he made a show of it, curling his tongue
around Draco�s fingers, the bastard would enjoy it.

�� Bastard,�
he whispered.

�� Draco
placed the bit of cake in his mouth while he was speaking, and it was swallow
or choke. Harry swallowed. Then his eyes widened as the taste burst through his
mouth. It had been enhanced with magic, he knew. Nothing was that sweet
and sparked on his tongue at the same time, like wine.

�� What is
that made of?� he demanded.

�� A special
house-elf recipe,� said Draco, his eyes on Harry�s face. He had eaten a small
bite of it himself while Harry swallowed, but he looked less affected by it.
�Isn�t it, Trippy?�

�� Oh, yes,
Master Malfoy!� Trippy bowed and bobbed.

�� Open wide,
Harry,� Draco whispered, and held out another bit of the cake.

�� The one
major drawback of Harry�s plan had been that he ate very little; he was more
involved in spilling his food creatively, and the course usually vanished
before he could take more than a few bites. He was hungry, and the cake was
good, and he decided that this was small compared to some things Draco had made
him do. He opened his mouth again.

�� This time,
of course, Draco�s fingers lingered a moment, stroking up and down his tongue,
pushing at the insides of his cheeks. Harry rolled his eyes as his face burned,
and swallowed the bite before he snapped, �You�re not even subtle most of the
time, do you know that?�

�� Draco
didn�t respond, but ate another piece himself before he retrieved a second
slice, this time from the swan�s side. His eyes had the same burning gaze
Harry�d seen in the mirror before they left his bedroom.

�� It abruptly
occurred to Harry that Draco was looking only at him, that there was no
possible other target in the room for his gaze.

�� All that
attention was focused on him.

�� Harry
shifted restlessly, but didn�t rise from the chair, mindful of Draco�s threat.
He did find it harder and harder to concentrate solely on the food as Draco fed
him, though. He had to accept that Draco had no other reason to look like that
than him, and even if Draco had had numerous lovers in the past and would have
them in the future, none of them were here right now. Harry was.

�� Harry had
not thought about being wanted in so long that having all that desire fixed on
him at once was- a bit overwhelming.

*

�� Draco was
losing interest in torturing Harry as he fed him more and more. Yes, he would
have carried out his threat if Harry had tried to leave early, but now he�d had
his fingers inside Harry�s mouth, and had a better sense of how hot it was, and
Harry was looking at him with a mixture of fascination and unease that Draco
had seen before.

�� That was
part of what seduction was all about, of course. Lure the target. Make
him want to come in closer and closer. Make it clear that he was wanted, desired,
above all things. That intensity of regard alone was flattering for most
people.

�� And this
wasn�t most people. This was Harry, Draco�s prey for the past two years. And
Harry was resisting as dearly as Draco had always hoped he would. A regard that
hard to win was worth fighting for.

�� He was
hard, still, but the longing had settled down to a slow burn in the center of
his chest. He knew what he wanted to do as he leaned forward to give Harry the
last bite of cake they�d share, and so he did it.

�� He followed
his fingers with his mouth, pressing his lips gently to Harry�s and sliding his
tongue in through the icing and cream. He mimicked what he�d already done with
his hand, pressing his tongue gently against the insides of Harry�s cheeks and
moving it in quick jabs.

�� Then he
groaned, precisely timing it so that it echoed into Harry�s mouth.

�� Harry
jerked, but it wasn�t an attempt to get away; it was a motion of surprise,
Draco knew. He was out of his chair now, leaning forward with one leg pressed
against Harry�s hip.

�� And then he
felt Harry�s hand rise and brush the back of his head, and that encouraged him
to cup Harry�s neck and bring him closer, kissing him thoroughly for three
heartbeats before letting him go. He sat back slowly, letting Harry have a good
look at his hazy eyes, his swollen lips, his mussed hair, and doubtless the
icing stuck on a corner of his mouth. He wanted Harry to remember that vision,
and remember it was because of him.

�� Harry�s
eyes had darkened and glazed, and his hand twitched as if he would reach after
Draco.

�� Draco
smiled slightly. Good enough for tonight. And now, to give him some
breathing space.

�� He rose to
his feet. �Good night, Harry,� he said. �Trippy will show you to your room.�

�� Harry
blinked. �But I thought- � he said, and then stopped.

�� Draco
tilted his head. �You�re more than welcome to my bed, Harry,� he said softly,
rolling the name. �To sleep, of course.�

�� Harry
looked more tempted than Draco had thought he would, but in the end he shook
his head. �No. Thank you,� he added, and then looked a bit flustered that he�d
done so.

�� Draco just
nodded. He was willing to wait. Harry�s pranks might annoy him, but he was
still going to win, because he was sure that he wanted Harry more than
Harry wanted not to be wanted.

�� He flashed
him one more smile and turned away.

�� He�ll be
a problem. Of course he will. I won�t have it any other way.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Learning Life Over