Author: J.K. Rowling (slashed by norton_gale)
Warning: Wandplay, premature spellcasting. DH spoilers.
Summary: Draco won't go without leaving Harry something to remember.
Word Count: ~1300
Disclaimer: All sentences in this fic were composed by J.K. Rowling from the seven books in the Harry Potter series, and are her intellectual property. I merely rearranged the text. No malice is intended by this posting, and no profit is sought. I believe in good faith that the following is a parody and subject to the fair use exception under applicable copyright law, but will immediately remove this post at the request of any of the authorized copyright holders. This fic will not be posted on any archives outside of LiveJournal.
Author’s Notes: Another gift fic for aldebaran1977 (coincidentally), who asked for a fic which primarily used text from Book 7. Sincere thanks to libby_drew for audiencing and a very helpful suggestion.
Additional fics in this series: Harry Potter and the Slashed-Up Canon and
It's Been a Very Weird Night, Harry Potter.
"Oh, hello, Harry," said a nervous voice. "Um.. bad time?"
"Never been better," said Harry, rubbing the top of his head and slumping back onto his pillows.
The door flew open; Malfoy marched inside, wand held out in front of him, pale and determined. Knocking over two delicate tables and an aspidistra, he covered the floor between them in two strides and pulled Harry into a hug that nearly cracked his newly repaired ribs.
"Where did you go?" asked Harry, staring at him.
"Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business, Potter," sneered Malfoy.
Was it his imagination, or did Malfoy, like Tonks, look thinner? Certainly he looked paler; his skin still had that greyish tinge, probably because he so rarely saw daylight these days. Harry sighed. Why had he never appreciated what a miracle he was, brain and nerve and bounding heart?
Malfoy was showing less resolution than ever. "Look..at...me..." he whispered. His grey eyes raked Harry's forehead. "Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He crossed to the door and bolted it.
"What is it?" asked Harry, excitement rekindling. He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely.
"You don't know what I'm capable of," said Malfoy more forcefully, "you don't know what I've done!"
"I can't stay here."
"You aren’t still thinking of leaving?"
"That’s right," said Malfoy. ''I can't be involved with you any more. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together." He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought.
"So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?" whispered Harry. The idea made him feel strangely lonely.
"Yeah," said Malfoy, who was panting. "So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing." He winked.
Slightly taken aback, Harry hesitated. "You've been so brave." He could no longer control his own trembling.
Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "You know what to do," he said. "Eleven inches. Nice and supple."
"Wow," said Harry. "Good gracious, really?" He drew out his own wand and compared the lengths. Soon he stood near enough to touch it, but could not bring himself to do so.
Malfoy turned slowly to face the front. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling. "Like it?" he said quietly. "Would you like it?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Draco, come here."
Almost as soon as he had reached this decision, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Malfoy stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his white blond head. With fumbling fingers, Harry started to remove his many layers of clothing. He lowered his shaking hand, raised Draco’s wand beneath the Cloak, and murmured, "Lumos."
"Very good, Potter, very good…" said Malfoy slowly. He held the wand higher.
As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry’s wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. Harry felt a slight squirm of discomfort, as though a small snake had stirred inside him. "No," he moaned.
There was silence, apart from panting and coughing. "It wasn’t me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."
Draco Malfoy laughed. "But what does it matter?" he said softly. He strode around the table and hugged Harry; the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place might never have happened.
"It won't happen again," said Harry harshly. He got up clumsily; there was a lot more of his body than he was accustomed to. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending?
"What?" he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.
"I—no—I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean—"
"I know," said Harry.
"Can you forgive me?"
"Definitely not." Harry screwed up his face and buried it in his hands. He would have given a great deal to be able to shout the truth at Malfoy, or, even better, to hit him with a good curse.
The door banged open behind them and they jumped apart. Harry whipped around. He felt Voldemort before he saw him. Malfoy saw him coming and raised one arm, but even as Harry grasped it he knew at once that it was no good.
"Harry! My dear boy!" Voldemort’s lipless mouth curved into something like a smile. He contemplated Harry as though he were a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "The Chosen One, they’re calling you now!"
Harry smiled back, hoping that this would suffice. Malfoy merely stared at him.
Voldemort’s expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. "And who is this?" he said in his soft snake’s hiss.
Malfoy did not speak. His pale, pointed face was alight with malice.
"Well, well, if he is a bit strange, it's not his fault." Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor’s baton.
"He's just nervous," said Harry.
"What have you been doing?” Voldemort’s hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco’s very tightly.
"Snogging," said Harry.
"Yes," said Harry, "I’ve been doing it for over a year--"
"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake’s face jeering.
Harry nodded. "He's mine."
"All the better," said Voldemort. He gave them another roguish wink. "I shall join you in the castle shortly," he said in his high, cold voice. "You two carry on. Don’t let me spoil your fun." He smirked at Harry and disappeared.
Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. He caught Harry's eye and smirked, tapping the crown-shaped badge on his chest.
"That was dramatic," said Harry coolly.
Malfoy gave a gleeful yell of laughter. "He wanted you to tell him how to overcome the connection between our wands."
"I won't say anything," said Harry. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how best to embark on what he wanted to say; as he marshalled his thoughts, Celestina Warbeck began a ballad called 'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me.'
Harry did not dare look directly at Draco, but saw him obliquely; a figure slightly taller than he was, rising from an armchair, his face a pale and pointed blur beneath white-blond hair.
'... and now you've torn it quite apart
I'll thank you to give back my heart!'
"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret. "Why did you have to make it so difficult?"
"I didn't,' breathed Malfoy. "But I can't ... we can't ... I've got things to do alone now."
Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry realised, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying --actually crying, tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.
"Look, drop it, will you!" Harry burst out. "It's bad enough, without you blaming yourself for everything!"
Malfoy's lip curled. He nodded, but seemed unable to say anything else. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back despite his state of shock. He got into his bed, settled down under the covers, then turned to look at Harry in the darkness.
"Stay close to me," he said quietly. "Forget Hogwarts."
"It's been like ... like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you,'" said Harry. "You'll stay with me?"
"Always," echoed Malfoy softly. Their lips met.
All was silent. All was well.