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Draco Malfoy lived a remarkably solitary lifestyle. He woke up alone, ate breakfast alone, and spent most of his time locked in his study. When his father managed to get him to attend his various parties, Draco much preferred to spend them sipping wine in the corner. With age he seemed to have lost interest in the sparkling jewelry like bait hanging around young women’s necks. Lord Malfoy’s son had gone from a notorious playboy to quiet and reserved. It suited him just fine.
Studying was tiring work. Ancient texts always were easy to mistranslate and when dealing with unreliable sources it got even worse. Draco leaned back in his chair, pinching the pale bridge of his nose. His platinum hair was falling out of the short ponytail he had it tied back in. Parchment and quills littered his desk, some pages little more than transparent onion skin layers of paper. Outside his window he could smell the sweet scent of pastry cooking. He’d told his father not to let them cook in his wing of the castle; Draco stood with a sigh and closed the window.
The evening sun was shining low in the sky when he finally left his study. Sunlight leaked through windows and pooled on warm flagstone floors. Draco didn’t answer any of the guards’ greetings and bows; he’d long stopped hearing them. The castle halls he’d explored as a child no longer held the sparkle they had in his youth. The distances that had once seemed so vast now were little more than inconveniences. He pounded on the richly made door to his father’s study.
“Enter,” The familiar drawl of his father said from within.
Draco stepped into his father’s chambers, his nose scrunching in disgust at the décor. His father’s style was nothing if not lavish, from the albino peacocks strutting the castle grounds to his fondness of gold and jewels. His quarters were covered in expensive rugs, rich woods and coveted paintings. Lucius Malfoy was sprawled on his couch, a pretty girl peeling grapes for him. Shimmering waves of platinum hair fell around his bare torso. When he looked at Draco there was a certain assessing gleam in his silvery gaze.
“Whatever it is must be urgent for you to seek me out yourself,” Lucius mused.
Draco scoffed, “I do leave my rooms father, despite your beliefs.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” He said, amusement colouring his voice, “How have things been Draco? Has Ms. Parkinson been entertaining you?”
“You’re fully aware I sent her away,” Draco said dryly. Pansy Parkinson was the latest in his father’s long line of attempts to get him married. She had been pleasant enough but her vanity and vulgar attitude annoyed Draco to no end. He didn’t need a woman and his father would have to see that soon enough.
“Yes, I suppose you did,” His father sighed, “I don’t know how you expect to produce an heir without a woman. Perhaps those books you so enjoy will teach you how to build one.”
“I’m not here to discuss heirs Father,” Draco said, “I’m going to be leaving the castle for a few days. I’ll be meeting with a scholar from the south, he’s a well-known brewer.”
“Hm,” His father gave him a look, “No, you won’t Draco.”
“Father,” Draco said, quickly growing impatient, “The meeting is already set. I’m not asking for permission-“
“Draco.”
He nearly flinched at the glacial tone his father used. His father no longer looked amused, there was a certain hardness in his gaze. Draco knew whatever speech he was about to hear he wasn’t going to like, “Yes father?” Draco said politely.
Lucius gestured for the girl to leave. He began after she had closed the door behind herself, “Draco as you are aware foreign dignitaries will be visiting the castle in these upcoming days. I expect you to greet them. They have a daughter around your age-“
“Father-“ Draco began, exasperated.
“No Draco,” He interrupted, his voice stern, “You’re not getting around this meeting. Ignore the girl the rest of her stay, I don’t give a damn, just at least play nice when they arrive. I’ve arranged a festival for their arrival. I expect you to be present.”
“What do I get out of ‘playing nice’?” Draco asked.
His father smirked, “The enjoyment of human company. Humans aren’t made to spend their lives locked up with books.”
“Books are more interesting than the women you send after me in droves,” Draco said, irritated, “I’ll go to your festival, but don’t expect me to pander to some prim and proper woman.”
“I suppose that’s the best I’ll get,” Lucius said, “The festival will begin tomorrow evening. I’ll have clothes sent to your rooms.”
“I can dress myself,” Draco said stiffly.
His lips turned up in a smile, “I’m fully aware. Just dance along for the night, they’re very politically advantageous allies.”
Draco just shook his head, “Goodnight Father.”
“Goodnight Draco.”
-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-
Draco’s first opinion of Hermione Granger was that she was very ‘pleasant’. She was very pleasantly pretty with overflowing brown curls, a small nose, and big brown eyes. Her manners were very pleasant as Draco stood beside father and greeted her family. The Grangers were in the area on business and would be staying at the Malfoy Castle for a few days. Hermione seemed pleasantly pleased to be there. When Draco spoke to her alone for a while she was pleasantly intelligent. The entire thing made him sick. She was about as interesting as watching mud dry.
They were currently in one of the many lounge rooms in the castle. Pine green couches were arranged around a low table, Draco somehow ending up sitting beside Hermione Granger. Balcony doors were thrown wide open to show an expanse of blue sky. As conversation flowed Draco could feel the intensity of his father’s stare. Clearly the Grangers were an advantageous political partner if he was so worried about Draco playing nice. He spent most of the meeting going over various translations in his head. His father seemed content to let him mimic a statue, but the Grangers repeatedly asked about his studies.
“Do enlighten us Draco,” Mrs. Granger encouraged.
“It’s dry, boring work,” He said, swirling the ruby wine in the bottom of his crystal glass, “I doubt you’ll have much interest in it. I’m merely collecting knowledge.”
“Knowledge is power,” Lucius murmured, causing the Grangers to chuckle and agree.
“It would be delightful to see your work,” Hermione added, smiling at Draco.
He managed to fight back the sigh that wanted to fall from his lips, “I’d rather not entertain. It’s nothing interesting, trust me.”
It appeared however to not dissuade her in the slightest, “I love reading ancient texts. There are tremendous amounts to learn from the past! I won’t impose.”
Mrs. Granger laughed, “Hermione has always been a bookworm. She’s personally responsible for the size of our library back home.”
“I’m sure Draco could spare a few hours to show her his work,” Lucius said, glancing at Draco sharply.
“It would be my pleasure,” He said, resigned to his fate.
When his parents began talking politics, Draco finally excused himself from the conversation. A whim to see the lake made him take a path he seldom walked. The castle was lively with preparations for the festival that evening. It was with annoyance that he dodged conversation with nobles who decided to stop and chat. They were all dripping arrogance and Draco had long ago tired of their tongue games. He trekked the paths he’d walked as a child, past the kitchens, through the slave quarters, and out a side door. Cool air rising off the lake hit him like a blast as he stepped outside.
Glistening water stretched out before him, the waves lapping lazily at the shore. The other side of the lake could just barely be seen. Draco made his way down the slope of the castle hill and found himself at the sandy embankment. It smelled clean and fresh and for a moment he just breathed in something other than dust. A peal of laughter pulled him from his thoughts. He looked around to find the source and spotted a boy splashing around in the water with a big black dog.
For a moment Draco was winded. The only thing he could do was stare at the beautiful young man covered in sparkling flecks of water. His hair was a wild and messy tangle of obsidian locks falling around his shoulders. Green eyes like pools of the finest emerald glittered with mirth as he petted the dog. The boy’s frame was small, skinny, and delicate even. Draco shook his head as though dazed, thoughts only beginning to come back. He’d never had such a strong reaction to someone on sight and blushed at his own ridiculous thoughts.
“Snuffles! Come back Snuffles!”
It was at that moment Draco realized the black dog had noticed him, pounding across the shore towards him. He just managed to raise his arms before the brute was upon him. The smell of wet dog filled his nose and he uttered a swear word, trying to pry the furiously salivating dog away from him. The green eyed boy jumped in to the fray and tugged the dog off him. Draco wiped his face, flushed and ruffled as he tried to straighten his clothes.
“Sorry about Snuffles,” The boy panted, holding the dog against his side, “Bad Snuffles! He really must like how you smell.”
“That brute should be kept on a leash,” Draco sneered.
A look of hurt shuttered across the boy’s face and Draco felt his chest tighten, “He- he’s not a bad dog! Snuffles just gets excited is all. What’s your name? I’m Harry!”
“Draco,” Draco said, trying his best to sound indifferent and disdainful.
“Like the fire breathing lizard?” Harry said, smirking at the look on Draco’s face.
He snorted, “I’m not a fire breathing lizard, thanks. How did you get here? This is castle territory. You’re not royalty; I haven’t seen you around the castle.”
Harry rubbed the back of his head looking sheepish, “I, er, may have climbed the walls and snuck around the guards.”
For a moment Draco just stared at him before exploding, “YOU WHAT?!”
“I just wanted to look around,” He said grinning guiltily, “I don’t get to see the castle much.”
Draco shook his head, “So you decided to sneak into the royal palace full of guards to what . . . splash around in a lake?”
His smile was blinding, “Yup!”
“I could have you arrested,” Draco pointed out.
“You could,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders like it couldn’t be helped, “But you won’t. I’m not bothering anyone. I just wanted to play in the lake with Snuffles.”
“You’ve mistaken me for someone who cares,” Draco said, his voice dripping arrogance.
Harry sighed, the easy grin sliding from his face, “How about this, you let me go and I’ll tell you three of your secrets.”
“Three of my secrets?” Draco repeated, bemused.
Tan cheeks scrunched into a grin, “Yup! I’ll tell you three of your secrets. How about it?”
“This is stupid,” Draco said, “But fine.” He had nothing better to do, he might as well let the boy entertain him.
Harry made a show of closing his eyes and touching the palm of his hand to his forehead. Draco thought he saw a lightning mark scar before his skin was covered. For a moment there was silence and Draco began to grow impatient. Right when his patience was at its end, Harry opened his eyes to lock him in a stare. Once again Draco was struck by how vibrant the color was. It was like someone had taken the very essence of spring and imbued it into his irises. Harry raised a single finger and pointed it at Draco.
“Secret one,” He said, leaning back on his heels, “You’re a stubborn prat and get upset when things don’t go your way.”
Draco flushed and opened his mouth to retort but Harry shook his head, raising another finger, “Secret two, you’ve never been in love.”
It felt like someone had slipped ice down his back. Every hair on the back of his neck rose as the truth of those words sent a shiver down his spine. Draco stared at the beautiful wild boy and wondered for a moment if he was a fairy. It would certainly explain his uncanny intuition. It had to be coincidence and Draco steadied himself, reassured that it was merely a trick. Harry raised a final third finger.
“Secret three, you’re lonely. No matter how hard you try, books can’t fill the void inside of you.”
“No,” Draco said, unaware of the desire to speak until he’d said the words, “You’re wrong.”
Harry cocked his head to the side, “Am I?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say ‘yes’ when a familiar female voice rang from behind him. Feeling cold, Draco turned to see Hermione Granger walking down the slope. If he hadn’t been so shocked he might have felt annoyed she’d followed him. As it was he could only feel numb with disbelief. Harry had to be wrong, he didn’t even know him, but the words sunk to the bottom of his heart with the weight of the truth. Did he really appear so lonely that a complete stranger could read him so easily?
“Draco!” Hermione said breathlessly, stopping in front of him, “I was looking for you everywhere. I was hoping you could show me your study, I trust I’m not intruding?” She added, glancing at Harry.
Harry gave her a glowing smile before backing away, “I was just leaving. See you around Draco!”
Draco tried to keep his face blank as emotions raged around inside of him chaotically. He didn’t pay any attention to Hermione, just stared at the retreating form of Harry. Something about him had brought color and sparkle back into his life, something he hadn’t been aware he’d lost until that moment. His chest felt oddly light after their encounter. At the same time it hurt.
“Draco, are you listening?”
He looked over at Hermione, pulled from his thoughts, “Of course. We were discussing . . .”
“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” Hermione said, shaking her head, “I was saying that I’m having mother arrange our stay to last a few more days. I would like to accompany you around the surrounding lands.”
Great. Draco forced himself to smile, “We’ll see. Come to my study, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.”
Hermione fell into step beside him and they spent the rest of the day going through old texts. To his surprise she seemed genuinely interested and grasped linguistics with startling clarity. Draco couldn’t help be jumpy however. He would space out and find he hadn’t heard a word she’d said the last ten minutes. Green eyes were burned into the back of his lids. It was driving him insane. Everything he’d been taught was telling him that what he was feeling was wrong. Harry was clearly a commoner, and he was a man no less.
Draco was no fool, he knew why Harry’s figure and startlingly plump lips had captivated him so easily. He also knew that any gay relationship would be treated as disgrace. His father would not forgive him. A man cannot bear an heir and the Malfoy line needed an heir. Being so forcefully reminded of his sexuality was a first. He couldn’t help but wonder what the uncannily intuitive Harry thought of the entire thing.
You’re lonely.
Those two words he couldn’t shake out of his head. He was happy with his life, or at least satisfied! Right? His entire life had been a set of carefully made plays so he could be the next Lord. He had luxury, he had fame, he had money. Why was there always something missing? It was like someone had carved out an important part of him and he was only realizing now how much he needed it. Perhaps his father was right, maybe his solitude was getting to him. Sometimes he’d go days without seeing another living soul. That couldn’t be healthy.
The festival was in full swing by the time night had fallen over the castle. Draco bid Hermione goodbye and dressed slowly. His clothes were finely tailored robes of deep emeralds and blues. It was irritating knowing his father had picked them specifically to dress him up like a show horse. He could only hope the evening would end quickly. The royal family and their guests were set up in the entertainment chamber as street performers came from all over to put on a show. Draco shifted in his seat, silver eyes scanning the crowd.
Fire caught his attention. Brilliant glowing orbs of fire spit sparks as a familiar form juggled them. He watched the way the rotating light glittered off sweat covered skin and felt his chest tighten. Harry looked beautiful, his hair wild and free as he danced with fire. His limbs and body moved as though in a perfectly choreographed trance, every step he took sliding into the next. Draco could hear surprised murmurs around him and knew the boy had not gone unnoticed. The way he danced was energetic and free and it made Draco feel a sense of wonder he’d all but lost.
The dance sped up and Harry began to extinguish the fireballs. Next he brought out shimmering strips of material and immediately introduced them to the dance. His body twirled and leapt through the air like he had wings. Vibrant green eyes locked with Draco and Harry winked. Warmth rushed through Draco and he held his face to hide the obvious blush he could feel staining his features. As the dance continued flames flared to life and Harry became an inferno of fire as he leapt around the burning streams. Draco nearly stood up, shock and fear gripping him. Yet even when the fire kissed Harry’s tanned skin no burns remained.
When the dance ended the chamber shook with applause. Draco didn’t hesitate to slip into the crowd surrounding the platform they performed on. He could feel his father’s disapproving stare but at the moment he was driven on instinct alone. When Harry stepped off the stage Draco immediately found him. His body smelled lightly of smoke and something sharp and sterile.
“Amazing right?” Harry said cheekily, grinning at him.
“You absolute twat!” Draco hissed, “You could have burned!”
He just shook his head, still with that smirk on his face, “Could have. Didn’t. Come on Draco I told you I’d see you again.”
Draco had to focus on not strangling him before he could get out the words, “Come with me. Let’s walk the grounds I want to talk.”
Harry glanced at the head table, “You, uh . . . sure about that? Lord Malfoy looks pretty pissed.”
“I don’t care,” Draco said, his tone leaving no room for argument, “Let’s go.”
Harry followed him out of the chamber, walking in a comfortable silence. Draco had never had so many things he wanted to say, but they all were clogging his throat. He felt like butterflies and birds had made his ribcage into a home. If the fluttering didn’t stop soon he was going to have a damn heart attack. Harry seemed calm for the most part as he stared around at the interior with interest. Draco found his eyes tracing the curve of his neck and wondered for a moment what his skin would taste like if he was to kiss it. It was infuriating feeling so out of control around someone he’d just met.
They took a less used path of twisting corridors. When they reached an inner courtyard Draco stopped. A fountain gushed quietly in the center of the courtyard as Draco mapped the features of the young man that had captivated him. He wore nothing other than red briefs and the fabric looked worn and frayed. He was a commoner, dirty blood. The things his father had taught him whispered in the back of his head like venomous snakes. Yet staring at the shining emerald of his eyes he couldn’t even associate the word ‘dirty’ with Harry.
“So you’re a Malfoy huh,” Harry said, breaking the silence.
Draco stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly, “Yes.”
He watched as Harry mulled this bit of information over slowly. His nose wrinkled up and he bit his lip absent mindedly. Draco had to overcome the overwhelming urge to nip at those inviting pink lips himself. When he spoke his face showed unease, “I guess I won’t be able to see you, huh?”
Draco stuffed down his own insecurities and instead gave him an arrogant sneer, “Where’s all the confidence from last time we met? You can play with fire but can’t climb a few measly walls?”
The grin that lit up his face was breathtaking, “Kiss my ass Malfoy. Your fancy walls are nothing to my acrobatics.”
“Prove it,” Draco taunted smugly.
After that they just talked. They sat together on the weathered wooden benches and everything seemed like a dream. Draco didn’t really remember exactly what they’d talked about –something about dancers and their ridiculous clothes- but he did remember the way his heart pounded and his palms were slick with sweat. The sight of Harry blushing at a backhanded compliment made something inside of him glow. Under the star strewn sky he found himself again slowly in the sound of words being spoken.
He knew of course his father would be furious at him, but it faded to background noise. Harry bid him goodnight and began to leave, but he paused. A strange look was in his eyes as he turned back towards Draco. In between one moment and the next he’d strode forward and kissed Draco. It was a soft feathery kiss that was both hesitant and bold at the same time. Something inside of Draco melted at that moment. As he watched Harry disappear into the castle he could only think that despite everything, he wanted this to work.