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Wooing the Reluctant	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 23188 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter book series is owned by JKR. I am not her. I make no money and I only plan to use her characters for some fun before returning them, much happier.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Title: Wooing the Reluctant

Author: Makoto Sagara

Series: Harry Potter

Archive: the usual suspects (ffnet, affnet, Foreverfandom, my site, mediaminer, makochanupdates on LJ, thehexfiles, hpfandom, and the harrydraco community on LJ); anywhere else, ask first.

Pairing: Draco/Harry, past Harry+others, past Draco/others

Rating: NC-17 (eventual; this chapter R)

Warnings: Slash, ooc, angst, language, humour, EWE

Disclaimers: I don’t own Harry Potter and his friends. They belong to a list of people, including the wonderful JKR, Warner Bros, Scholastic Publishing, Raincoat Books, and others. I’m only borrowing them for entertainment purposes.

Author’s Notes: I had planned on having the last chapter being a bit longer than it was, but found that the perfect stopping point was right before dinner. What does Draco have in his pocket? Well, you’ll just have to read this chapter to find out. Thanks to Jokes for stepping in to beta while I deal with stuff! Love you, girl! *heart*

Dedication: To the lovely and dearly departed Jamie! I miss you already. You made this story so much better, and I promise that I will keep all the ideas you had for it!

Chapter Eight - Allow Your Intended to Give Something to You

Allowing the exchange of gifts conveys seriousness on both sides of the courtship.

“You can stop manhandling me,” Draco said, pulling his arms from the grasp of the Weasels. He looked around the sitting room they had dragged him into and lifted a curious eyebrow. He never would have thought she’d drag their group into this particular room, but it appeared as if she wasn’t really paying attention to what she did. She really was a sight to be seen when focused on a goal. “Really, Granger, it seems as if your discomfort in my home is short-lived where Harry is concerned.”

“Now see here, you obnoxious, self-entitled, pompous arse,” the annoying know-it-all shouted in her best lecturing tone that Draco remembered from school, “I have a few things to say to you, and you will shut the hell up and listen.”

“Let me guess,” Draco drawled, leaning comfortably against the mantle of the room’s fireplace. “If I hurt Harry, you’ll kill me?”

“No, Malfoy, you’ve got it all wrong,” the surviving Weasley twin said, stepping into Draco’s personal space with an impressive snarl on his normally jovial face. It was an odd look for him. “If you hurt Harry, they’ll never find all of the pieces.”

Had either of the females made that threat, Draco would have shaken it off and headed out to the patio to find Harry and his mother. However, with the Weasley twin, George, he remembered absently, saying those words, Draco was forced to pay attention. “Alright, Weasley, what are your terms?”

“I knew you weren’t stupid, Malfoy,” George Weasley said with a smile that made the blond’s blood run cold. “Now, you have to know that we view Harry as quite our own.”

“That means if you do anything to hurt Harry,” the Weaslette squawked from beside her brother, “and I do mean anything, I will enjoy taking you apart, piece by piece.”

“My, are you sure you fought on the correct side of the war, Ginevra?” Draco taunted the petite redhead. She was his biggest competition when it came to Harry’s affections. Regardless of the fact that she was engaged to Oliver Wood or that she and Harry had been over for nearly twenty months, Ginny Weasley held a special place in Harry Potter’s heart, one which Draco was determined to obliterate and make his own. “That sort of vitriol was spewed by my side, if I recall correctly.”

“I do believe that I said to shut up, Malfoy,” Granger said sharply, drawing all eyes on her. “Harry’s finally realised the seriousness of this entire courting business you’ve started him on. I don’t want you mucking it all up because you’re too much of a prat to see that Harry and Ginny have been over for a long time now.”

Draco blinked, staring deeply into Granger’s bright, brown eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that you actually want me to succeed in winning Harry’s affections, Granger?”

“That’s Granger-Weasley to you, Malfoy, and yes, I do,” the brunette woman answered, putting up a hand as the redheads opened their mouths. “This isn’t about what I want or what I think is best for Harry, because frankly, if I got what I wanted all the time, you’d be in prison and we’d not be having this conversation. Since you seem to think you can make Harry happy, and he’s willing to give you a chance, I will give you a chance.” Draco felt the urge to smile come over him until the woman stepped into his personal space. “One toe out of line and you’ll be a eunuch. Remember that.”

With Granger’s threat out on the table and in the open, Weasley seemed to relax, appearing much like he had when he and his family showed up that evening. “Now, Malfoy, while I have you, I’d like to discuss a little business matter with you.”

Intrigued, Draco raised an eyebrow. He remembered all the lovely inventions that George and Fred Weasley had come up with during their years at Hogwarts, and even though Fred had died at the Final Battle, George Weasley was running Zonko’s and other joke establishments to the ground with Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. If he wanted to talk business, Draco could see the sense in it. Especially since he knew that his mother would send an elf for their party if they hadn’t returned by the time dinner was served.

However, it appeared that the Weaslette couldn’t stand to be ignored and not allowed to get her own say about how the courtship between Draco and Harry should run. “Malfoy, I was serious. Harry’s like another brother to me and I won’t stand for you to mess with his heart and ruin his life.”

“Truly, Ginevra, you have me completely wrong,” Draco said coolly, deciding to wait to speak to George later.

“Really? Why don’t you enlighten me then? Unlike Hermione, I don’t think I want you anywhere near Harry.”

“It must truly maim you to not have any control over Harry now, Ginevra. I mean, you couldn’t even keep The Boy Who Lived interested in you. How that must hurt.”

"Not half as much as my knee in your groin is going to feel, you no-good, poncy ferret!”

Really, must all the Weasleys’ insults sound the same? Before Draco could respond, Granger had grabbed the younger woman by her arm and began whispering furiously in her ear. I do believe that I may have to thank Granger-Weasley. Hm… He cut his eyes to the side to see George Weasley staring at the two women with a sad look on his face. Maybe I got a little too close to the truth there. Interesting.

“Listen, Malfoy, it’s best if you don’t goad Ginny about the way she and Harry broke up,” George answered. “You don’t know the details, and it’s in bad taste to assume that you do. It was between them, so we never pried, but it was anything but mutual. Just to let you know, before you step on anymore toes tonight.”

Draco felt as if he’d been struck across the face by the other man’s words. Really, to be reminded of propriety by a Weasley was insulting, even if he was right. Standing up straight, Draco pulled all of his Malfoy calm to centre himself. “You are absolutely right,” he said coolly. “We can speak after dinner about business then.”

“Whenever you’d like, I’m at your mercy.”

Pity it’s not Harry saying that, Draco thought. “Ladies, I do believe it is time to see if dinner is ready.” And beyond time to rescue Harry from the paws of my best friends.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry debated as to whether he could snatch his arm away from Parkinson and return to the rest of the dinner party, but a quick look at the woman’s face told him that it wasn’t in his best interest to avoid this conversation. As if Malfoy’s the one who’s liable to be hurt, he thought bitterly.

“Potter, I will come to the point,” the brown-haired, polished witch said once their small group reached a point of the vast gardens where they wouldn’t be overheard. “Draco…he’s very serious about courting you.”

“I’ve realised that,” Harry answered flatly.

“Yes, well, I’m just wondering if you understand what that really means,” she retorted sharply.

“What my dear Pansy means, Potter, is that Draco is vulnerable,” Zabini said smoothly, removing his fiancée’s hands from Harry’s arm. “If you manage to hurt him, you won’t like how it turns out.”

“I think we’re well beyond that point,” Harry snapped.

“I know what you did to him in sixth year, Potter,” Parkinson snapped. “If you ever do something like that to him again, I will hunt you down to the very ends of the Earth to make you pay. Dearly.”

“Are you seriously giving me the whole over-protective speech? On Draco Malfoy’s behalf?” Harry was incredulous. He was being threatened by two Slytherins, one of whom had screeched that he should be given over to his death not even four years before. “I’m not sure whether I shouldn’t start examining you for obvious mental defects or laugh until I piss myself.”

“Save the sarcasm, Potter,” Zabini drawled. “We’re aware that you don’t like us, but it is a simple case of you not really knowing us outside of what we were at school.” Harry waited for the dark-skinned wizard to continue. “As things stand, we are virtual strangers. Like Draco, I would like to assume that we’ve all grown up since Hogwarts and can forgive one another those little slights that have happened in the past.”

“You’re saying that you want to bury the past and pretend as if we’re friends? For what? Malfoy’s sake? I’m not sure that he’s even worth it, to be honest.”

Zabini grabbed Parkinson’s arm as she opened her mouth, effectively shutting the woman up. “Be that as it may, it is up to Draco to prove that to you. I am simply offering you a truce in the face of our common acquaintance.”

“Merlin, what is wrong with you pure-bloods and your inability to speak normally?” Harry groused, trying desperately to fight back the headache that had been building since he’d stepped foot in Malfoy Manor. “Alright, Zabini, here’s what I’ll concede to you and your girlfriend here—”

“Fiancée,” Parkinson sneered.

“What?” Harry asked, not sure where the woman was taking things.

“Pansy is my fiancée, Potter,” Zabini offered. “We’d appreciate it if you’d keep that in mind.”

“Wonderful, congratulations, still not necessary to what I was going to say,” Harry snapped, his patience down to nil. “Now, I understand that Malfoy is serious. I’ll even admit to being flattered. I’ll even follow the stupid, archaic rules that say he has to give me gifts before we can see each other. But, I will not be used as some pawn for Malfoy’s agenda.”

“It’s about time you saw some reason,” Parkinson muttered, turning her back on the two men.

“We’re fairly certain that he will be giving you a gift tonight, more than likely after dinner when you can be alone,” Zabini said clearly, almost eagerly.

“Okay?”

“This gift is supposed to be fairly traditional, but we aren’t allowed to tell you what it will be, as that would ruin the effort Draco’s put into it.”

“I understand that, but why are you telling me all of this?” Harry asked.

“Because the next gift and meeting has to be initiated by you, Potter.”

Oh, I hadn’t thought of that, Harry mused, blinking owlishly. “It is?”

“Yes, Potter, it’s your turn to give something to Draco to let him know that you are taking this courting seriously,” Parkinson said slowly, as if speaking to someone who was mentally handicapped. “While most of the pressure is on Draco, this is your chance to show him how much you’ve been paying attention to him.”

“He, uh, hasn’t spoken a lot about himself,” Harry said, realizing how true that was. “Mostly, he asks questions of me and my life. I know that he raises hawks that he names after Egyptian deities, but other than that, I’m at a loss.”

“Well, it’s lucky for you that I know the perfect gift for my best friend, now isn’t it?” Parkinson asked saccharinely.

What am I about to agree to do? Harry asked himself before taking a deep breath. “I’m listening.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Not five minutes after Draco and the Weasley children arrived out to the back patio, Harry and Draco’s friends joined the rest of the group. Narcissa bestowed all of the younger people a beatific smile that only grew wider as Teddy launched himself at both his cousin and his godfather simultaneously. “Uncle Harry, Nana says that you must sit next to Cousin Draco for dinner,” the little boy said clearly before turning to face his amused grandmother. “Can I sit next to Uncle Harry too, Nana?”

“You must ask your Aunt Narcissa, Teddy,” Andromeda answered softly.

The little boy turned his bright, wide green eyes and white-blond hair combination to his great-aunt beseechingly. “Can I, Aunty Cissa?”

Draco watched as his mother struggled not to burst out laughing in front of everyone. It seemed that he was not the only Malfoy affected by the Metamorphmagus’s blending of Harry and Draco’s prominent features. “Of course, Teddy, you may,” she responded kindly. “I’m sure that your godfather would love to have you next to him.”

It appeared that the Weasleys were shocked to see Narcissa Black-Malfoy speak so gently, especially to a child that she wouldn’t even be allowed to acknowledge, let alone at her dinner table, if Lucius was still in charge of the Manor. When everyone was seated, the house-elves served dinner, and luckily, Granger managed to contain her disgust to two minor comments when she saw how content the elves really were under Draco and Narcissa’s service.

I don’t know why she thinks that we would abuse our servants, Draco thought tiredly. They perform much better if they are given respect and treated well. That is one thing that I learned from Mother, and why I ignored Father’s manner of blatant abuse towards that elf, Dobby.

The feel of Harry’s warm hand brushing against Draco’s thigh under the dinner table had the blond’s whole body on fire. He was grateful that he was both sitting down and wearing loose summer robes; otherwise, he would have been embarrassed beyond life itself. A brief look at the other man showed no indication that he knew what he was doing. A simple touch from the Boy Who Lived and all of a sudden I’m a thirteen- year-old with his first crush? I sincerely hope that I am not blushing. That would be mortifying.

“Draco, my love, is something the matter?” Narcissa asked quietly, managing to attract everyone’s attention to him and alerting him to the fact that he was, indeed, blushing. At least he was now.

“No, Mother, I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth as Harry’s hand once again brushed against his thigh. He could feel his blood spike with desire and wanted to storm up to his room and slam the door. That, or throw Harry Potter to the ground in front of their collective friends and family and shag his brains out. “Just a little warm.”

His traitorous best friends and the Gryffindorks assembled all snickered at his discomfort, and he had to smother the urge to hex them all as Arthur Weasley gave him a sympathetic look. The three older women all turned to a discussion of gardening that seemed all-encompassing, while Mr Weasley turned his attention to the excellent salmon Mipsy had made for diner and little Teddy. And yet, Harry still had no idea what he’d inadvertently caused.

The rest of dinner proceeded in this same vein. The odd mixture of former Slytherins and former Gryffindors stumbled over conversation topics, until Granger brought up the volunteer work that Narcissa had been doing at the hospital, causing all of the women at the table to go off on a tangent about housework, of all things. Well, all of them — except the Weaslette, who continued to glare at Draco from time to time as if he was filth on the bottom of expensive Italian loafers.

When pudding was announced, Draco breathed a sigh of relief before turning to face his Intended. “Harry, I would like to speak to you privately, if I may?”

All eyes turned to them, and Draco could feel the raised eyebrow questioning his intentions from his mother. “Draco?” And really, that was all she needed to say, wasn’t it?

“I would just like to speak to him about the next gift, Mother,” Draco managed smoothly. He heard Pansy and Blaise snickering beside him and he wanted to hex them for being so bloody childish.

“Of course, dear,” Narcissa replied softly. “However, you must take Harry to the side garden, as tradition dictates.”

“Yes, Mother,” he answered, turning his attention back to Harry. “May I?”

“Okay,” Harry said reluctantly, standing up and waiting for Draco to show him the way. However, the blond did him one better and took his arm to guide him. “I’m not an invalid, Draco. I can walk on my own.”

“I know, Harry,” Draco answered softly, indulgently. Merlin, how this man drove him mad, always had. When they reached the side garden that held all of his mother’s prize roses, Draco led his Intended to a pretty stone bench before he knelt down on one knee. “I know that you might think that this is all a little overwhelming, but I want you to know that I’m serious about everything to do with courting you and winning your hand, Harry.”

“You look like an idiot there,” Harry said, a blush forming across his handsome features. Really, he looked so delicious in his formal robes; almost as good as he’d appeared in the Muggle clothing he’d worn on their first date to the zoo. “Please get up.”

Draco sat next to the other man, taking one of Harry’s strong, calloused hands into his own. “Do you at least acknowledge my true aim?”

“I’m still a little wary of your goals, Malfoy.”

“Draco.”

“Yes, Draco, but I can recognize the fact that you’re taking this seriously at least. The feather and the hippogriff adoption proved that.”

“Have you found out what the feather does yet?”

“You mean aside from shocking my friends rather nastily? No.”

“I warned you to tell Granger that–”

“Wasn’t ‘Mione. It was Ron. He came back to Grimmauld Place with me the night I had dinner over at the Burrow and picked it up off of my desk before I could stop him. Lucky for him, I know how to cure an All-Over Boil curse.” Draco watched as the corners of Harry’s luscious lips quirked up into a bemused smile and sighed in relief. “Of course, he deserved what he got, for being such an idiot. It’s part of the reason I refused to let him come over to the Manor with the rest of the family. As much as I knew that you could handle yourself with him being so enraged, I didn’t think Molly could live with the humiliation of him attacking his host for the evening.”

“My respect for your adoptive parents keeps going up,” Draco said ruefully.

“Even if Molly killed your aunt?”

Really, of all the things for him to say, he had to bring that up? “Harry, my aunt Bellatrix was insane. She was going to kill Ginevra. What Molly Weasley did is laudable. She successfully defended her only daughter from the vile death my aunt would have bestowed. I don’t begrudge her that. In fact, I applaud her for her victory over insanity.”

Harry snorted, but remained silent otherwise and Draco pressed on. “Since you are here, and you have obviously decided to accept my suit, I am required to give you a rather traditional gift at this time.” He felt a little light-headed as he reached his hand into his robe pocket to retrieve the velvet box he’d nearly crushed before Harry’s group had arrived. He saw green eyes widen behind golden-framed spectacles and proceeded carefully. “Harry James Potter,” he started formally, “I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, ask most humbly for you to accept this token of my fervent affection and do beg you to continue your consent to court you.”

He opened the box to reveal a thick platinum band, etched with dragons encircling three emeralds the size of peas. “Will you allow me the pleasure?”

He looked up to see Harry staring at the band fiercely. “There’s some sort of magic in the metal.”

“Protection spells,” Draco mused. “The band is goblin-made, of course, and of platinum. I thought it was white gold at first, but Pansy assures me that I’m an idiot and it’s more costly than that. I saw it in the family vaults and thought of you immediately.”

“The significance isn’t lost on me,” Harry whispered breathlessly. “Do you really mean to give this to me?”

“Of course, Harry. This ring will protect you when I am unable. If someone should throw something more than a mild Stinging Hex at you, the ring will instantly surround you in a rather strong Protego. Since you still come across the occasional malcontent in public, I thought that the extra security would be perfect.”

“It’s lovely as well.”

“Oh, yes,” Draco whispered huskily, inhaling the nearness and the woodsy smell of the other man. “It matches your eyes very well.”

“Yes,” Harry said, looking up with an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Yes, I will accept the ring.”

“Excellent,” Draco breathed, crowing in triumph mentally as he slipped the band on Harry’s left ring finger. “It can only be removed should our courting end.”

“What now?” Harry asked, leaning in closer to the blond subconsciously.

“You owe me a private date, Potter,” Draco said before leaning in to capture the other man’s lips in a heated kiss. He could feel Harry stiffen in surprise, but just as suddenly, he relaxed. Draco could feel the hand with his ring come up to cup his jaw, and in an act of possessiveness, he wrapped both arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him flush to his chest.

When Harry whimpered, Draco took the opportunity to nip at his bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth lightly as he moved to sit back down on the bench. Harry responded by opening his mouth, and Draco’s tongue instantly darted forward to taste.

And, oh Merlin, what a flavour the Boy Who Lived had. Draco could taste the dinner’s wine, an excellent pinot his mother was so fond of, mixed with something heavier, sweeter that had to be only Harry. He was instantly intoxicated. He could have happily drowned in the embrace of his Intended. There was such passion and struggle for control as tongues wound around each other. It was only when a shocked gasp and nervous giggles sounded from the side of the house that Draco even entertained the thought of relinquishing Harry’s delectable mouth. “Yes?” he asked brusquely and one eyebrow rose in irritation.

His mother, aunt, Granger and Molly Weasley all stood staring at them in various states of amusement. The gasp had to have come from Granger, who was covering her mouth with a hand. Molly Weasley appeared to be fighting the twin emotions of embarrassment and pleasure. His mother’s sharp, blue eyes were twinkling, like bloody Dumbledore’s used to. Andromeda just smirked at him. “We grew a little worried, dears,” she said calmly. “It’s about time for Harry and his family to leave, Draco.”

Stifling a growl at the presumptuous women before him, Draco turned to a very red Harry and smiled. “Remember, Harry, you owe me a private date,” he whispered into his fiancé’s ear before placing a chaste kiss to his jaw. He could almost see why Blaise was so enamoured of the word. Almost. “And the next gift is yours to give.”

Harry stood and nodded woodenly at him before he practically ran from the garden to the rest of their families. Granger and Mrs Weasley dashed off after him. Perfectly content, Draco folded his hands behind his head and smiled winningly at his mother and aunt. He could still taste Harry in his mouth and he relished in it. “Absolutely perfect,” he whispered to himself.

“I take it that he has accepted your formal request?” Narcissa asked as she perched beside him.

“Yes, Mother, he has.”

“I’m happy for you, nephew, but the warning I gave you before still stands,” Andromeda said, her voice somewhere between stern and pleased.

“Trust me, Aunt; that is the last thing on my mind right now.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he Flooed back into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. While dinner at Malfoy Manor had gone…better than he could have hoped for, the silence as he and the Weasleys left to go back to the Burrow was nearly palpable. Hermione and George kept giving him sly glances, Molly teared up a few times, Arthur patted him on the shoulder companionably, and Ginny refused to even look at him. To say that it was awkward would have been a vast understatement.

As soon as they arrived, it was like a dam bursting. Hermione and George started asking every question they could in rapid-fire fashion. Ginny just burst into tears, giving Harry a look of what he could only later describe as utter betrayal. Ron came out of the living room and into the kitchen, asking what was going on, loudly. Molly tried to get George and Hermione to back off and to get Ginny to calm down. As Harry’s temper started to flare and he could feel the heat crawling up his neck and face, Arthur took a deep breath and shouted at everyone to shut up.

“George, Hermione, I know you’re curious, but Harry doesn’t have to answer for kissing the man who is courting him, if he’s accepted him. Ron, don’t say a word. You’re to be supportive of your best friend or you can stay silent,” Arthur commanded. The three he’d addressed seemed to be properly chastised, and the greying-red-haired man turned to his only daughter. “Harry is not yours, Ginny. You saw to that yourself. Stop accusing him and grow up. Go home to Oliver. Molly, a spot of tea, please? I feel a headache coming on.”

Molly smiled proudly at her husband and began bustling happily around her kitchen as the others sat down at the battered table. Harry, however, could only watch as his “family” seemed to take what Arthur said as gospel. Well, Ginny sat at the table and sobbed quietly into her hands instead of returning to the flat she shared with Oliver in Sussex, but she stopped glaring at Harry.

“Sit down, son,” Arthur said, directing Harry to the chair at his left. Still a little dazed, Harry took the chair and looked at the surrounding people.

“I won’t apologize,” he said stubbornly.

“Harry, dear, it would be unreasonable to ask you to do that,” Molly said as she put cups of tea in front of everyone. “Lord Malfoy is obviously rather fond of you and for that I’m grateful.”

“Yes, Narcissa Malfoy spoke very highly of you while you were off with Ms Parkinson and Mr Zabini,” Arthur said with a smile before taking a long sip of his tea. “Andromeda, of course, could not say enough to praise you.”

Harry felt his cheeks flame for another reason beside anger. “I’ll have to visit ‘Dromeda and Teddy later.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate that, dear,” Molly said kindly, dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s unruly hair. “Now, let’s see the ring.” Awkwardly, Harry raised his left hand from where he’d placed it in his lap and listened to Molly, Hermione, George and Arthur murmur appreciatively at the beautiful band. “He has excellent taste, of course.”

“It really is a beautiful ring, Harry,” Hermione gushed before sneaking a glance at her curiously quiet husband. Harry turned to look at his best mate, to find him with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Ron?”

“Oh, sorry,” the tall redhead said slowly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “It’s really nice, mate. So, you’re really going to go through with it?”

“I am,” Harry said without a moment’s hesitation. He could see the look of surprise in Ron’s blue eyes before his friend nodded reluctantly.

“So, what gift are you going to give him then?” Ron asked, making everyone but Ginny, who fled the room sobbing once more, smile with pride.

Molly had left the room after that, no doubt to discuss things with her daughter, but Harry couldn’t bear to stay much longer. He listened as Hermione went on and on about how promise rings that were normally given during courting rituals could also be taken as engagement rings, since most courtings ended with marriage. After a while, he absolutely craved the peace and quiet of his home. Arthur hadn’t let him leave until he’d secured Harry’s assent to come by later that week for dinner with the rest of the family.

All this brought him back to the present, sitting at the desk in his study, staring at a piece of parchment. The quill/feather that Draco sent him was lying on the desktop, next to a bottle of ink. Harry glared at it as he tried to form the words for the letter he was going to write to help along with Draco’s gift. Gathering his courage, Harry snatched up the quill, but the images that flashed through his mind made him drop it as if burned. What he saw couldn’t have been real, could it?

“What the–”

Staring at the innocent-looking, bronze-coloured feather, Harry shook his head. I don’t know what the hell that was, but I’m just imaging things, surely. Carefully, he reached out his hand and just touched the feather. Almost instantly, the images began flashing again.

He was lying down in a huge four-poster bed, sky-blue velvet curtains surrounding the obscenely large piece of furniture. The sheets he was spread across were of the smoothest, purest white silk that felt wonderful against his rough palms. Looking up, Harry saw the face of Draco Malfoy staring back at him, his silver-grey eyes nearly black with desire and a lewd grin spreading across his handsome face. “Merlin, Harry, you look good enough to eat,” the blond purred, running one hand up and down Harry’s clothed side.

“D-Draco?” Harry stuttered, his cock twitching at the look of barely restrained lust the other man wore. “What’s going on?”

“I see you’ve discovered the other charm on the quill I sent you,” Draco whispered huskily. “Wonderful that you should choose today to discover it.”

“I only wanted to write a letter,” Harry responded, feeling lightheaded as the blond’s long fingers began to make quick work of the many buttons of his dress shirt. “For your gift.”

“That can wait until later, yeah?”

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” Harry asked, moving his hand s to stop Draco from disrobing him.

“I am, obviously, about to make you feel very good, Harry.”

“How is this happening, Draco?” the dark-haired wizard growled, trying to push the other man off of him so that he could get away.

“The quill was Charmed, of course, not only to curse anyone who touched it other than you, but to allow you to see what I’m thinking about while you hold it.” The blond gave him a smug grin that sent shivers of desire rolling throughout his body. “Of course, it being interactive wasn’t really supposed to happen, but I’ve come to learn that magic acts oddly around you, Harry Potter.” He thrust his hips down sharply, rubbing his very ample erection against Harry’s thigh and dragging an undignified whimper from the prone man.

“Draco, please stop,” Harry pleaded, somewhere between completely turned on and totally confused.

“Tell me you don’t want me, Harry,” Draco purred into Harry’s ear. “Tell me that you’re not excited being trapped by my body, in my bed, hanging on the edge of the most excellent orgasm you’ve had in your life.”

“I do,” Harry whispered, his cheeks flaming.

“Merlin, you’re gorgeous,” the blond whispered, his fingers finding Harry’s pebbled nipples and pulling on them, dragging a needy moan from the blushing wizard. “The many things I could do to you, Harry, would make your mind spin.” Suddenly, the hands were buttoning Harry’s shirt back up. “But, I would rather do it to you in person. I’m sure you understand,” Draco said sadly, forcing Harry to look up into grey eyes that smiled warmly down at him. “You’re worth more than just a quick fuck in my bed, Harry.”

With the gentlest of kisses, Draco pulled away and Harry instantly felt bereft. “What? Why?”

“Because I want you, all of you, Potter, and even this little scene here wouldn’t even come close,” Draco answered with a warm, sweet smile that stole Harry’s breath. “Now, return back to your letter, Potter. And you better make sure that your gift is perfect.”

Suddenly, Harry found himself sitting at his desk, once more, breathing heavily and rock-hard. Somehow, Malfoy had managed to connect their minds for an encounter unlike anything Harry’d ever had. It had been terrifying, exciting, and intensely erotic. Never before had he even wanted to sleep with anyone he’d dated, aside from Ginny at the beginning of their relationship, but now? Now, Harry was almost giddy with desire.

Taking a deep breath, Harry willed his erection down before searching for another quill. He still had a letter to write, for his obnoxiously handsome fiancé’s courting gift. “Dear Kingsley…”

TBC

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Wooing the Reluctant