Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Shards Of His Beloved	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 18387 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
To Nubia: Thank you very much! Well, Harry has been attracted to Draco since their sixth year at school, he was just hiding it quite deep inside his heart.

To Ruri_Hiwatari: So good to know! Thanks a lot!

To Sparrowbirdie: Hi! Thank you! I'm glad you're still with me! :) I'm not sure the new chapter is going to make you squirm, but soon... I promise ;)

To Grey_Archangel: Thanks! :)

To plaything: Thank you for your professional opinion, Dr. Plaything :)! I'm glad I've managed to show it and glad that you've noticed.

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9. Closer to the Edge of the Abyss



     Draco always did what Harry asked him to (which wasn't often), but otherwise kept ignoring him, and when he couldn't ignore, he became terribly mordant and acrimonious; but Harry had mostly got used to the blonde's insufferable attitude.

     Meanwhile, the only remarkable thing these days was the invitation to the opening ceremony of the new quidditch school for children and teens older than ten, younger than eighteen. It was intended for summer holidays and days off, so it wouldn't interfere with children's education. There were other summer quidditch schools, of course, but this one promised to be one of the best. Harry wasn't happy about the entire idea of attending the event, wasn't in the mood for such things, especially since he'd finally got rid of the reporters after the trials that had made them stalk him for just a tiny piece of information. But he couldn't just ignore the event, since there were going to be a lot of children, dreaming of seeing the Saviour with their own innocent eyes. Ron and Hermione were going to be there, so he decided not to disappoint the young public, too. He wasn't sure he would be able to relax with his friends on the banquet, though. And yet, it was decided.

     Early in the morning Molly had already taken the children to look after them in their parents' absence and while they were getting ready and dressing themselves.

     Draco was tidying up in the kitchen when Harry entered. Semiramis was sitting on the window sill, looking at the blond.

"Slovenly pigs..." Draco grumbled quietly, scrubbing the inside of the cooking pot, trying to clean the burnt porridge away. He didn't seem to notice Harry's presence.

"You could try to raise a rebellion. Slaves do it sometimes, you know," Semiramis set on with a smirk. She also smirked at Harry, who rolled his eyes at this.

"Oh, please..." The blond hissed with annoyance. "That damned curse is eating me alive, so don't give it ideas."

"Semiramis," Harry called. He'd already found out long ago that calling her 'Semie' or 'Mira' wasn't a good idea, because she found it offensive and refused to respond (and her claws were bloody sharp). Draco didn't even acknowledge his presence, but it wasn't unusual.

"Yes, human?" Semiramis purred.

"May I have a word with you?"

"If you must." The sphinx followed him and entered the living room gracefully. "Is there something you want from me?" she asked. She sounded like she was flirting, but she sounded this way pretty often.

"Look, I really need your help. I'm waiting for a firecall from my colleague; he hasn't firecalled, yet, and I forgot to tell him that I'd be away today. Could you answer the firecall and memorise several addresses he might tell you?"

"I don't know..." the sphinx murmured thoughtfully. "There's a chance I'll be sleeping or reading something too interesting to be interrupted."

"I'll buy you some new jewellery. How about earrings and a pendant?" Harry smiled. She livened up immediately and he had all the attention of her dark-amber eyes.

"Interesting," she purred, jumping up onto the sofa to sit across the coffee table from him. "If it's something worthy, of course. You can buy cheap pieces of junk to your wife. I want something exquisite. Gold and ruby," she demanded with the excited movement of her tufted tail. Harry sighed. Semiramis had a lot of expensive jewellery, but it was never enough for her.

"We'll see," he said. But she wasn't going to give up.

"I wonder why you don't decorate your slave as well. He'd look nice with white gold and diamonds, probably blue diamonds, on his fair neck and hands: wrists and fingers. Ummm... Maybe, his ankles, too. His hands look gentle and jewellery would only accentuate their beauty. Such rare beauty belongs to the highest ranks of some royal harem, but you put him in the kitchen, instead." She hemmed and shrugged, slightly curling her lip.

"Goodness, are you on catmint again? In what century were you born to say things like this?" Harry scowled a little.

"It doesn't matter; you know I still have some memory of my ancestors. What I'm really trying to say is that I see the way you look at him. Especially his back, mainly his lower back; his hands and hair, and his face when he can not see you ogling him. And... you absolutely adore his neck."

"God..." Harry blushed slightly. Either she was too observant, or he'd become less discreet after that mortifying evening when he'd entered Draco's room and his disobedient eyes had been all over the stunningly beautiful body. Perhaps, he'd become even bolder after that, whilst looking at Draco. Too bold for his own good...

"In the time of my distant ancestors, it was absolutely normal for a man to desire another man; in Greece, Rome and some other countries," her magical voice activated Harry's inner eye and made him see two, supposedly Roman, young men, making love and kissing passionately on some combination of bed and sofa. Harry could hear their distant moans. Their attires and sandals on the floor suggested that one of them was probably a servant (or even a slave) and the other one was his master. In any case, they looked really taken with each other. Their surroundings resembled a rich house of the ancient times with columns and such things. After their lovemaking the young men were drinking wine and talking about something that Harry couldn't understand, due to their foreign language and quiet, distant words. Some phrases sounded affectionate and they smiled at each other from time to time. And then one of them sounded like he was boasting, in order to impress the other man. After that Harry saw the same couple sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. The vision was a bit unclear, but it was enough to make Harry's face flush. He was speechless at the show he'd just witnessed. Of course, he'd known that all of it had been usual and normal in the ancient times; he just hadn't expected to actually see it.

"Hmmm?" Semiramis teased with a smirk on her proud face. "Is that what you want, hero?"

"Stop it..."

"...Like the statue of Nisus and Euryalus together... What a pure desperation... Such things were generally accepted back then, but now... You, humans, are not that open-minded any longer. But a lot of you still want it; some of you want it very, very badly," she purred and smirked again, looking into his eyes.

"It doesn't matter what I want," Harry sighed.

"Oh, it does!" the sphinx exclaimed and then she gave him another wry smile. "What I know for a fact is that you don't want me to inform you wife that you fantasise about sharing a bed with your blond slave, so you'll consider my request. Gold and ruby."

"God! I can't believe it! So it was all about some jewellery?" Harry chuckled, a bit shocked.

"In part," she nodded and kept smiling at him.

     The sphinx was terrible as a pet. She wasn't even a pet, she was a person. When she'd just been given to him as a present, he hadn't known how to even feed her, so he'd bought her some cat food, for which he'd been scratched so deeply and painfully that the wounds on his hand had been healing for almost three weeks even with magic and potions. It had taught him to ask her opinion about her food and other things she required. She even had the room of her own in his house.

     Semiramis and Ron hadn't liked each other from the start. When he'd first seen her, he'd accidentally slipped something about her, something she found offensive, which had angered her and she had hissed at him and called him a 'dogfucker' to the redhead's shock and indignation, and Harry had nearly choked to death on his butterbeer as he'd heard it. Later Ron had attempted to reconcile with her, and though they hadn't become friendly with each other, Semiramis had stopped mocking him every time she saw him.

      And one day when she'd decided to take a walk in wizarding London alone and visit a tailor to purchase another bodice or two (because, of course, she didn't have enough clothes, even if there were two huge ornate chests in her room, full of expensive clothes that a female sphinx could wear), some unwise criminal had spotted her walking down the street and had tried to kidnap the rare creature that cost a fortune, she had nearly split her light-sandy sides with laughter, looking at him as if he was some funny insect. The man had been confused at her reaction and at the fact that his stunning spell hadn't worked. And, using the opportunity, she had scratched his eyes out, leaving him almost blind for life and in Azkaban for two years. Harry couldn't help but pity the fool when he'd seen her handiwork.

     And now she was blackmailing him! She would have made a perfect Slytherin if sphinxes were allowed in Hogwarts, which, of course, was bizarre. And, ironically, the one that had gifted her to Harry after the war, the Kenyan ambassador, who had wanted to express his respect, had told Harry that the gift was just meant for a true Gryffindor (perhaps, something to do with sphinxes being physically part-lions, and lions were something very Gryffindorish). Hah!

     At any rate, Harry found this blackmailing situation amusing. It was more like a prank than a real blackmail.

"I wish I could find it just as funny," he sighed. "Let's return to my original request."

"You're lucky that I'm going to live for another three hundred years, whereas all of you will perish much sooner, so I might probably have some time to spare for your request," she nodded lazily and started to sharpen her claws against the expensive sofa upholstery. Harry frowned at her, but she only smiled at him again.

     While Ginny was dressing up, Harry decided to have a cup of tea in the kitchen. Draco was still there. Harry noticed that the blond looked at him critically for a brief moment, shook his head, and returned to his work.

"What?" Harry frowned a little and looked down at himself from chest to boots. He found nothing funny and wondered what was there so wrong about him in Draco's opinion (on the other hand, what wasn't?). He even straightened the collar of his button down shirt, black with thin grey and blue strips.

"Nothing, Master," the blond shrugged, without looking back, and continued cleaning the kitchen furniture.

"No, tell me, please," Harry insisted, placing his hands on his hips. Semiramis jumped up onto the chair and sat down to watch the scene curiously.

"It's just funny to see someone, who's going to attend such kind of event, looking like a beggar," the blond shrugged again, nodding at Harry's blue jeans.

"I'm pretty sure that you know that these are called jeans, and I bought them only several days ago, so they are new; and, believe me, they aren't cheap," Harry sighed in annoyance. "I'm sure you've seen such kind of pants on some people every day off in Hogwarts. You've seen them on me plenty of times. It's just regular muggle clothes. Even incredibly rich muggles wear it."

"In this case they have nor taste, nor dignity, wearing something like this only to look like dirty tramps. It's disgusting. But I'm not surprised, because you obviously want to turn this world into a copy of the muggle world. I'm surprised that people still use magic here," the blond scowled. Harry's amusement was almost gone with the last two sentences, but he didn't lose his composure.

"God... Do you really have to dramatise everything?" He rolled his eyes and sighed. "All right... You think I have to change into a formal robe?"

"If you have, at least, some respect for the people you're going to meet and yourself, in the first place, then do it. Personally, I don't care"

"Does it really look so offensive to those who were born in this world?" Harry asked curiously, looking down at himself again. "Ignore that you hate me personally for a moment and answer, please." It wasn't often he had even this kind of conversation with Draco, so he was eager to give it a try.

"You're their hero, their god, so, unfortunately, they won't say a word about your appearance, I'm sure of it. But normally a lot of people, traditionalists especially, find such clothes untidy and inappropriate, at least, for any decent place and company. It's just as ridiculous as plastic furniture, or anything made of that sickening material, and other muggle, equally stupid, things, like coffee without caffeine, fake sugar and those disgusting tea bags that you'd been using, before I started to brew you normal tea. I hope you don't think that I do it because I care about you in any way, I don't; it just sickens me to see those bags. I don't even want to mention that disgusting pop-music, or whatever muggles call that abomination, which your wife enjoys listening from time to time. I wonder if you saved this world only to ruin it with all that muggle shit. Oh, don't bother answering; it was rather rhetorical... Anyway, if you don't respect others then, at least, respect yourself and wear something decent." When Draco finished his tirade, Harry left with a sigh; the blond kept doing his work impassively.

     About twenty minutes later he heard footsteps, as someone entered the kitchen again when Draco was standing on the window sill, washing the window with the cleaning potion and cloths.

"Well?" Potter's voice asked.

"What else, Master?" Draco sighed with irritation, wondering why Potter was still here, not on that fucking opening ceremony. When he turned his face to him, however, he was speechless. Potter actually looked good! His dark-blue (almost black) formal robe didn't look very expensive, but it was new and made from high quality fabric. There were matching trousers underneath it, the bright-white, buttoned-down shirt and the dark-grey tie with thin pale-blue strips.

"Do I look like a proper wizard to you now?" he smiled almost teasingly and turned around, so Draco would be able to see his attire better. Potter's hair, of course, was as wild as usual, but it didn't ruin his appearance at all. Harry could swear that Draco looked impressed.

"It... needs just a little bit more ironing, but wrinkles are almost invisible; not striking, anyway. All in all, in my honest opinion, it looks... fine." he admitted quietly.

"Thanks," Harry smiled. Draco talking civil to him was worth having a pensive to be able to watch this remarkable memory over and over again. Or maybe he should wear something like this all the time, just to see these grey eyes paying attention to him, not empty, cold or full of hatred like they were most of the time in Harry's presence. "I'm quite used to casual muggle clothes and my auror robes. Sometimes I do wear things like this," he admitted, looking down at his attire. "But putting them on takes more time than I'm ready to waste on such things."

"Well, too bad for you then," Draco shrugged and returned to work. He thought that if only he wasn't angry with Potter so much, he would've been more sincere and somehow confessed that he actually found him attractive. Potter wasn't ugly (he was, in fact, quite handsome, but the hell had to freeze over and become completely snowed up before Draco would be ready to admit it openly now; it wasn't easy to admit anything like this even in his thoughts, even if he had almost easily admitted it to himself in the past when he hadn't been this embittered), but good clothes and straight back always made people look much better than they looked without those attributes; Draco had known it since his childhood.

"Harry, are you ready? We're going to be late," the voice of Potter's wife called; the voice that Draco hated so much.

"I'm ready. See you later, Draco." There was no response, though the blond looked back out of the corner of his eye (something that always made Harry feel oddly fascinated). At the same time, Draco saw the redhead, standing at the door in the dark-red dress that could be both casual and, in some cases, evening. It was a muggle knee-length dress with shoulder straps. To demonstrate even more nauseating freckles, it seemed! Potter would've looked even better if he got rid of the tiresome freckled twat he called wife, so she wouldn't ruin his appearance with hers, even if many people found her quite pretty. They had no taste; to Draco it was obvious. He wished her to become just as fat as her mother, as soon as possible, so people would finally see the truth. In addition it would be nice if people saw her yelling at someone like she yelled at him sometimes, scrunching up her freckled face, making it look really ugly. Ugly, fat with those disgusting ginger spots, she would've become a godsend to the reporters, so they'd take as many pictures as they could, and people all over the world would be able to see what kind of eyesore and monstrosity their dear Potter had married. The pig couldn't even keep the house tidy, having her magic! Draco clenched the cleaning cloth tighter in his hand and started to rub the window glass even more angrily, for some reason seething with fury and wanting the entire building to collapse right now.

     Two dark-amber eyes were watching him carefully. Semiramis smiled wryly. Humans were incredibly entertaining creatures.

     The next morning when Draco entered the kitchen to start making his usual work, such as washing the dishes, left from the previous evening supper and the current morning breakfast and to tidy up, he saw that all of it had already been done by Potter, who was sitting at the table and sipping the freshly brewed tea. Draco's meal was on the table, as always.

"Morning Draco," Harry greeted. Draco replied with a nod and sat down to have his breakfast. This morning felt unusual for him. He wondered why Potter had done all the work himself, knowing that Draco needed a work to do. He decided that he was just going to have to do something different. But he wasn't asking.

"Is that okay if I take you to muggle London today?" Harry finally said when Draco had finished eating.

"As you wish," the blond shrugged.

"There's a flat to hide two important witnesses, the elderly couple, but I was told it's not suitable for living yet, so I decided to take a day and take a look at it," Harry explained, washing the dishes left after Draco's breakfast before Draco himself would've decided to do it.

"Don't you have people who normally do such kind of job?" the blond asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

"We do, but in some cases only a very few people should know about the existence of a safe place for a certain person or people."

"Should I feel privileged then? Or you're intending to obliviate me afterwards?" Draco half-joked coldly.

"No, I certainly wouldn't do that," Harry smiled. "Anyway, I decided that preparing the flat was something more appealing than doing my paperwork all day. I'd like to go right now, if you're ready."

"Floo?"

"No, that flat isn't connected to the Floo Network, and for the sake of security purposes it is decided that we only use muggle transport to get there or out of there. Most wizards and witches don't even consider trying to check such things, whereas apparition and other wizarding ways of travelling are usually first things people try to trace."

"Right... Let's go then," Draco shrugged unenthusiastically.

     They actually managed to leave only more than half an hour later, after Harry had dealt with Albus' tantrum, which had ended with angry tears and snot bubbles, because Daddy absolutely refused to understand that sweets were much better than any cereal. Al often showed himself as a very nice, clever and understanding boy for his age, but, like any other child, he sometimes became whiney and demanding. Harry was used to it, so he knew what to do, even though it took time. Draco had decided to stay away, not to hear the imp's whining and protests. He was relieved when they had finally left the annoying child behind.

     They went by taxi and Harry regretted it very soon. Draco, absolutely unaccustomed to any muggle transport, started to show the symptoms of motion sickness. Harry opened the window for him, so he could have some cool air.

"This horrible smell..." Draco complained quietly. Sounds and smells of the muggle world sickened him immensely.

"Petrol and strawberry air freshener..." Harry sighed. He asked the driver to stop the car. They already weren't far away from their destination and could get there on foot.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked as they were walking unhurriedly down the almost deserted street in some dormitory district. Draco looked much better now. Harry was glad that they both had put on the warm thick wool coats not to get cold. It was the middle of October, after all.

"If you're going to make me return to Grimmauld Place the same way, I swear to Merlin, I won't hold back and just throw up all over you, not only because it stinks in there, but also because of that atrocious music that drivers listen."

"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry smiled apologetically. "We'll just take a walk on the way back and then apparate, once far enough," he suggested. There were no objections.

     The flat was horrendous! It was dirty, there were places with cracked or even crumbled plaster, the ceilings were covered with stains as a result of the leaks, but the worst thing was the swarm of cockroaches in the kitchen and bathroom, and probably even in the other rooms. Harry's face contorted with disgust. From his bag he retrieved the book, full of household spells and decided to start with destroying the insects before Draco saw them. He didn't know how the blond would react, but somehow he could easily imagine Draco's outburst or probably even a terror. When he found the incantation he was looking for, he started to read it, making the movements of his wand, just as it was described in the book. He hoped it was going to work fast enough, as Draco was still in one of the rooms near the entrance door, most likely, cursing Harry for bringing him here and for wanting him to clean the flat in such terrible condition by hand (though cleaning wasn't the main issue here; the flat surely needed a renovation). Harry had other plans for Draco, which had nothing to do with cleaning, but, since he hadn't shared them with the blond yet, he assumed that Draco was more than just confused.

     Harry left the kitchen to continue in the bathroom, just in case. The insects looked obviously startled. Later he noticed that they started to calm down and move to the exit, one after another. He stopped reading the incantation, deciding that it was enough (or that it hadn't worked the way it had had to), and emerged from the bathroom curiously to see what was going on. But first he saw Draco, pressing himself hard against the wall. There was a pure terror on his pale face, as he was looking down on the floor. Harry looked down, too, and nearly chocked on his laugher. The annoying insects weren't supposed to just disappear or die. The spell was chasing them away from the house, so now he was witnessing them unhurriedly crawling away in a column, as if they were soldiers, heading to the entrance door (Harry suddenly felt pity for the neighbours, because where else would the creatures go?). Draco seemed appalled and afraid to move as if they would attack him if he did. They were crawling not far away from his feet, so he slowly came up on the balls of his feet to move away even further from them.

     Harry had had no idea that it was possible for one flat to contain this many insects, and not only cockroaches, but other, much smaller, insects as well, and there even were several spiders that were bringing up the rear of the hideous parade (Ron would have had a fit). There were, at least, three different species of spiders, but there weren't many of them. They had crawled out of the sinks and dark corners of the rooms.

     Finally, all the creatures disappeared through the small crack between the entrance door and the door post.

"Draco, you may move now. They're gone," Harry assured sympathetically.

"B-burn this house down..." Draco mumbled.

"Bloody hell, I didn't know the flat was this bad," the dark-haired man sighed, scratching the back of his head in confusion. He decided to do some cleaning with magic. But even when he'd had no idea about the state of the flat, he hadn't intended to leave this work to Draco, anyway. Harry sighed again and looked around perplexedly. "I'll clean up everything here just a bit, and you may just sit down.., if you'll find something decent to sit on. I have to find a phone to hire muggle workers, because cleaning is definitely not enough."

"Am I here to sit?" Draco frowned a little. Of course, taking part in cleaning this disgusting place wasn't appealing at all, but he needed to work.

"Yes. Well... To be honest, I've brought you here with me, because, as you know, Ginny's having a party with her friends today, so I told her that I needed you here with me. I know you're not quite fond of them. And I know they don't treat you well." 'And this is something I do not approve, and never will,' he added mentally.

"How very noble of you. Well, of course, Saint Potter, as saint as always," Draco scowled, but his face relaxed slowly, because Harry remained impassive and even smiled slightly, looking right into the other young man's eyes in front of him. It wasn't hard to make an eye contact when they were just looking right in front of themselves, since both young men were about the same height.

     But Harry noticed that these beautiful grey eyes started to turn suspicious, so he looked away quickly.

"Anyway, consider it your day off. I have a right to give you one, especially after such a long time of having you doing so much work about the house," he said. At first Draco wanted to protest and say that Potter was being delusional, but suddenly he felt the curse letting go, as if he'd already finished his work for today.

"Fine, but I'm not precisely eager to spend the day off here."

"What would you rather do?"

"I'd read a book, alone, in the room that I occupy in your house, with the certain warm cat, sleeping on my lap."

"How about going for a walk... or going shopping with me? Would you like to help me to select the furniture for this wretched flat? All the furniture here needs to be replaced, especially given that the elderly couple that's going to spend about a year here, well... they're not used to muggle things," Harry said and patiently waited for an answer. At first Draco wanted to snap and say that if it was his day off, he was going to spend it the way he wanted, so he didn't need Potter's suggestions. But something stopped him and he thought that he probably wouldn't mind to go shopping, but only if it wasn't going to take too much time.

"Fine," he finally agreed. Potter seemed to look relieved at the answer and gave Draco a small smile.

"All right then. But first I must find a phone and a number of some renovation company. I'll ring them, they'll send people here, I'll explain everything, give them keys and we're free to go. Deal?" Harry asked, fussing a little. Draco only shrugged indifferently.

     Fortunately, it hadn't taken much time, because the quickness could be achieved with some extra money. After all, it was the Ministry to pay for it, so Harry didn't even bother. While Harry explained the workers what he wanted them to do with the flat, Draco was sitting on the windowsill that had been covered with some old newspaper (it was the only more or less clean place to sit).

     Some time later they finally left the dirty flat. Harry smiled to himself guiltily as he heard the man complaining to his neighbour about the sudden invasion of cockroaches. The second man nervously replied that he had the same problem in his flat and he had already called the insect extermination service. 'Oh, God... What have I done?' Harry sighed. But it was already done. After all, he couldn't explain these muggles that it was his fault and what exactly he'd done. Draco gave him a curious look, but said nothing.

     Soon they were shopping in wizarding London. People every now and then turned their faces to Harry, awed, and whispered something to each other. Harry wasn't really paying attention, because he was used to it. Draco sometimes felt quite uncomfortable, but there was something else. He couldn't explain why he felt a bit... proud, walking together with Potter. Just a little bit proud, even if, of course, he knew he had nothing to be proud of, especially being... just a slave or a charity case, depending how one looked at it. Harry, meanwhile, was a little lost in his own thoughts. Every time he saw even a hint of the fair face and hair out of the corner of his eye, his heart fluttered and his lips threatened to stretch into a tender smile. It didn't feel right, because for him it was another step to losing control over himself, another step closer to the abyss. It felt like self-deception to walk together with Draco like this, imagining some things involuntarily. And it felt wonderful...

     Eventually, Harry had purchased almost all the furniture he'd intended to purchase, except a bed. He couldn't decide which size to choose; king size or queen size, considering that the flat wasn't very spacious. Soon he made the decision to buy a bigger one, anyway.

     Even if he was the one to pay for all of it, not the Ministry, he would've bought something really decent all the same. That elderly couple were such nice people. They both were almost eighty years old, far from young even for the wizarding world, but they often smiled at each other, supported each other even in hard times they were now having. They looked into each other's eyes as if reading each other's minds, they held hands. Something that Harry would never have... He was never that lucky.

     Draco was carefully watching Potter, who was looking like he was deep in his thoughts; he looked... sad. For some reason Draco felt uneasy.

"That one looks good," he said, pointing at the one of the king size beds. He just had to say something, especially given that he'd been so quiet before and had hardly said anything during the time they (or rather just Harry) had been shopping.

     His voice immediately returned Harry to reality (to Draco).

"Yeah... You're right," he nodded and gave a small, sad smile. The shopkeeper approached and asked if Harry had made his decision or needed some help. Harry showed which one he wanted to buy, and when he heard the price, he couldn't help but think: 'It costs like Draco and a half,' He nearly slapped himself, wondering if he was going to compare everything with the price he'd paid for Draco. For the last fifteen minutes his mood had been ruined by all of his own tormenting thoughts and this one was the last straw. Thankfully, the shopping was over.

     Without saying a word they were walking down the street. Draco wasn't asking or even thinking where Potter was going to go now, just walking alongside him as before. Harry stopped near some decent looking café.

"Draco, are you hungry?" he asked.

"No," the blond shook his head.

"But you haven't eaten all day."

"Look, if you're hungry, just enter and eat something. Don't ask me," the blond frowned a little.

"Never mind..." Harry shook his head. "Let's go home. I'll cook something for dinner. Do you mind walking for ten more minutes, though?"

"No, I don't."

     Silence suddenly became very uncomfortable as they kept walking.

"You hate everything muggle, don't you?" Harry asked. It had just come to him. Just something to talk about.

"Why?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Just curious."

"Not everything. Muggles have some outstanding classical music; great orchestral music, choirs. But nothing really better than the same things in the wizarding world."

"Interesting... Is that all?"

"Some old weapons, medieval armour. We had several suits of armour in the Manor. Long time ago they belonged to some muggle knights. They even had shields with family crests. Once they were purchased by my ancestors, they were enchanted to attack uninvited guests, in case anyone managed to break through the wards. But I've never seen them attacking anyone. They looked a bit like those that defend Hogwarts."

"Sounds wicked," Harry smiled. "Anything else?"

"Old architecture, some places of interest, and some works of art are, too, worthy of wizard's and muggle's attention alike. Today's muggle world has almost nothing that could interest me. I feel alien there. Looks like the technological progress has been destroying the muggle culture and impoverishing their minds.

"Well... Many muggle inventions are meant to spare people's time and efforts. Most people call it progress," Harry explained.

"Yes, but some other people call it degradation of a culture."

"But muggles need something to make their everyday life easier. We have magic for it and they have to invent their own ways."

"What are you trying to prove? I don't hate muggles in general, if this is what you're getting at, I never have really hated them. Hatred and a total unwillingness to have anything to do with someone or something are two different things, Potter. I just don't care about them and I do believe that their ways should stay in their world and never meddle in ours. Different cultures always influent each other in some way, it's inevitable, but everything should have its limits. The more accurate those limits are, the better."

"I wasn't getting at anything; I just want to know what you really think."

"Want to know how 'intolerant' I am to try to 'fix' me and change my beliefs?"

"No," Harry almost exclaimed and shook his head sincerely, as if the very idea of changing Draco was unthinkable. Their eyes met, but they kept walking. "Just want to know you." He tried his best to make it sound matter-of-factly, but his eyes retreated. Draco didn't seem to pay attention, looking in front of himself now.

"You already know more than enough, Master," he said dryly, and Harry knew that the metaphorical door that had just been slightly ajar, so teasingly and temptingly ajar, was shut and locked again in front of him.

     Once they were home, Harry brought the dinner into Draco's room, making sure the blond wouldn't meet any Ginny's guests.

     Later Harry and Ginny were arguing, because Ginny wanted Draco to wash all the dishes and clean up after her small party and Harry was absolutely against it, and insisted that she had to leave Draco alone. Harry knew that the argument was mostly his fault, because he'd been a bit too harsh from the start.

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A/N: The statue "Nisus and Euryalus" by Jean-Baptiste Roman, that Semiramis mentions in this chapter, is situated in Louvre. If you haven't seen it before, find some pictures of it, you won't regret it! It's epic, beautifully desperate and very, very sexy!

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The Shards Of His Beloved