Fate and a Rose
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. AOL/Time Warner, Inc., among others. I make no claim, written or implied, upon Harry Potter. No money is being made and no infringement or disrespect to the creators / copyright holders is intended.
Warning: This story will contain slash (i.e. male/male relationships) and mpreg. If you don't like these things, I'd advise you not to read this fic! Thanks!
A/N:This chapter is un-beta'd, and I'm looking for a beta right now, so drop me a line at if you're interested! I have read all of the HP books, and all of them are relevant to this fic in some way, but some of the things that have happened in HBP will not happen until later in this fic, so please acknowledge that.
Confessions, Confrontations and Possibilities
Harry could feel Draco Malfoy's eyes piercing into the back of his skull. The chill creeping down his spine was common place now, whenever he knew Draco was looking at him. Where hatred used to loom in Draco's eyes, something else, something much more threatening had now materialized, appearing somehow over night. Harry felt the atmosphere change whenever Draco entered the room. Not like it hadn't before, but this was different. Now, there was more of an energy. He got butterflies in his stomach, not only because Draco was pretty much the most perfect thing on the planet, but because this perfect specimen always seemed to be picking him apart from the inside out. His eyes, once cold and calculating, now held an air of something Harry couldn't quite place.
Harry sat on the steps of the entrance to the grand Hogwarts, glaring down at his hands. Ron Weasley sat beside him, and Hermione Granger on the other side. She was pointing out something or other in a book she held in her hands that she deemed important for their upcoming exams, though neither of the teens sitting with her were paying much attention. All of a sudden, Draco had come out the doors of the castle with his goonies in tow, stopping in his tracks to gawp down at Harry. Harry, pretending to ignore Draco, continued to glower down at his hands. He couldn't get his mind off of how Draco always seemed to give him butterflies when he entered a room. Not speaking in literal terms, of course, seeing as how they were all outside.
The sun was shining, and it was a glorious day. Hermione couldn't concentrate in the commons because of those damned Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products that everyone seemed so keen to buy, so she had insisted they come outside to study, proclaiming that "It's a beautiful day and we shouldn't waste it by sitting here in these gloomy chambers all the time." Which was quickly followed by grumbles from Ron.
"If it's such a "beautiful" day, why do we have to spoil it by studying at all? Harry and I could practice Quidditch and not waste this perfectly splendid day and you could sit and do whatever you bloody well please, if you're so devoted to studying!" Hermione had shot him a scathing glare, a small whine had emitted from Ron, and there had been no further argument.
Harry was cut from his remembrances by the snippy voice compliments of one Draco Malfoy, cutting his friends and himself down with another of his biting remarks. "Hello Mud-blood, Weasel. Has Potty been being a good little pet?"
Ron seemed to be the only one affected by the burning words, as Hermione just pushed her nose deeper into her book, and Harry glared even harder at his hands, biting his tongue to keep from lashing out verbally at Draco. Though calm and collected on the outside, Harry had slowly been worn thin on the inside, and was about fed up with anything Draco had to say. If he says one more thing, there will be blood shed here today, and it sure as hell isn't going to be mine. He thought sourly.
Ron whipped about and scowled at Draco. "And what the bloody hell do you mean by that?" He snapped.
A smirk curled the corners of Draco's mouth. "Oh, nothing. Since you and the Mud-blood here have been going at it lately, though, I just thought that it must get to be rather a bother to have Potter around constantly. He spoils your fun, yeah? I'll bet he does. Seems to me that he's more of a pet than a friend. A dog's always loyal to his master, though, isn't he, Potter?"
As the word "dog" left Draco's lips, Harry spun around, leapt to his feet, and was instantly face-to-face with the man he had despised for over a good six years. "Whatever you may think, I want you to understand that I am fed up with your bullshit, and don't plan on taking anymore of it. You may be trying to push me, and incase you haven't noticed, it's starting to work. I'm afraid that if you say one more thing, you may wake up one morning to find that your neck has accidentally been broken while you were sleeping." Harry stated, a fire in his eyes that hadn't been there since the fateful night that Sirius had died. His face, though completely serene besides the fact that his eyes were blazing, was otherwise glowing with a magical light that seemed deadly, and the ferocity with which he said those words nearly scared Malfoy shitless. He had Draco gripped by the front of his robes in seconds when he didn't reply. "Do. You. Hear. Me?" Harry asked, punctuating each word with a small pause to let Draco know that he was completely serious and wouldn't let the matter rest until he got his answer.
Malfoy's lips curled into an almost-smile, as he stared into Harry's eyes. His eyes gleamed with something along the lines of victory, and Harry felt confusion slip over him as he glared into Draco's eyes. A few more moments without response, and Draco was ripped out of Harry's grasp when Ron pummeled him from the side.
"What is your bloody problem, Malfoy? You should just shut the hell up, already, you! Harry's got enough of a problem, what with Voldemort and all, and here you come, all up on your high horse. You've always got to make things difficult, don't you?" Ron said, slamming Malfoy's head into the ground slightly to get his point across. With a final heated glare, Ron got to his feet and he walked over to stand by Harry again.
Harry looked down at the mess that was now Draco Malfoy and winced. "Jeez, mate. You really did a number on him."
Ron beamed with pride. "Yeah, well…" he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly. He, Harry and Hermione turned around and walked down the stairs slowly, ignoring the commotion coming from the idiots behind them, who had just currently realized that something was off, and were racing around in a frenzy, trying to figure out how to help Malfoy.
After a few moments of walking aimlessly, Harry spoke again. "So, any idea of where we're headed?" He asked.
"No idea, mate." Ron replied sunnily.
Hermione scoffed at that. "Well, in that case, we'd better go back, because I left my book. And besides, it's getting dark now, and we don't really have time to do much else. Might as well go back to the commons and see if we can calm everybody down. Ron, you'd better be writing a very strong worded letter to your brothers about this! They've got to control some of the things they invent. Do they have any idea of the mischief they've caused because of their stuff?"
"But Hermione," Ron whined. "Those things are already banned. It's not like I can do much else. And the problem isn't that they don't know what they're doing, because they do and you know it. They're inventing these things because they know the amount of trouble that'll be caused, and they know how bloody boring it can get around here. You should stop being such a spoil sport!"
Hermione glared at Ron again, something that she seemed to be doing more and more often lately, and said, "This, coming from a prefect. If you ask me, I think you ought to have more pride in your title. And part of your duties as a prefect are to confiscate any items that are smuggled in, not to bring in some yourself!" She glared once more before parting ways with the boys in a huff, going back in the direction they had come from to retrieve her book.
Ron sighed in defeat and he and Harry started back towards the doors of Hogwarts. The sun had set a few minutes before, and they walked back to the entrance hall in the dark. "I don't know what's gotten into her." Ron stated as they worked their way up the winding castle steps.
"Well, I've an idea, but you never know these things with Hermione." Harry replied, raking his hands through his hair. "You did a great job on Malfoy, though. Wish things like that'd happen more often. I've got to feel a little sorry for the bloke, though. It's got to be a great blow to the ego."
Ron grinned. "Yup." He said, a little spring becoming visible in his step. "But after everything he's put us through, you've got to admit that it's a mighty great feeling to have brought the git down from his holier-than-thou pedestal. Jut because he's prince of Slytherin doesn't mean he's royalty everywhere else."
Harry said nothing but grinned just the same, and was glad to feel the warmth emitting from the entrance hall of the castle, because the air around him had started to feel a little chilly. "It's starting to get cold out here." He said, eyes looking up at the sky.
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "You would've thought it would be colder than this though, since it's October. Usually it's almost about ready to snow by now, isn't it?" Harry nodded.
"It still feels like summer almost. It's hard to believe Christmas is coming up. I can't wait, though. It should be great to come to your house this year." Harry asked. He had only been to Ron's house the day before school was to start, and not much had been going on. Hermione had gone over-seas to visit Viktor over the summer, and Ron had been feeling a little crummy because of it. Though Hermione had promised that she was just visiting, and that she had absolutely no feeling other than friendship towards Viktor, Ron still insisted that she was sneaking around behind his back, and got very up-tight whenever Viktor was brought into the conversation at all.
Ron shrugged noncommittally and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Harry sighed. "Hey, what's that?" Harry asked, spotting something just ahead of him.
"Looks like a book." Ron replied. "You don't think…" He trailed off.
"What was she reading, Ron? I don't remember! I wasn't paying attention!" Harry said, his voice cracking as worry seeped into it.
Ron looked down at the book wide-eyed. Harry was the one to pick it up. "Quidditch Through the Ages." He read the title out loud, and there was a collective sigh between he and Ron.
"Doesn't seem the kind of book Hermione would be reading, mate." Ron said with relief.
Harry shrugged. "You can never be sure. Of course, Hermione already knows everything there is to know about Quidditch, so there isn't really any reason for her to be reading this book. I mean, even I have this book memorized cover to cover, I'm pretty sure Hermione has read it before."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But she isn't really fond of Quidditch like we are." Harry nodded in agreement.
"Then who's do you think it is?"
Just then, Pansy Parkinson came out of the Entrance Hall. "Well Weasel, Potty, I see you've found my book. Would you mind handing it over? Right now." Her voice was commanding, but Ron stood defiant.
"And what if we don't?"
Harry rolled his eyes discretely. All this over a stupid book. Ron has his own, and more than one, back in the tower. Why does he have to fight with her over this one? Do we always have to argue? What happened to inter-house relations? Oh well, leave it up to Ron to decide that we don't need to befriend Slytherins.
"Well, as I'm a Prefect, there are actually many things I could have you do. None of which would be pleasant, mind you."
Ron sneered. "In case you've forgotten, I just so happen to be a Prefect, too. That's a no-go there, Pansy."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Well, in case you've forgotten, Potty isn't a Prefect, and he's the one holding the book, so…" She trailed off threateningly, and Harry glanced down at his hands, where the book was clutched with a merciless grip.
It appeared to be a very old copy, with the corners torn and tattered. The golden letters on the cover were almost worn off completely, and it was amazing that he had managed to read them at all. Looking back up at Pansy, he opened the cover. Written in perfect penmanship was the name Harry least expected to see on a book that Pansy claimed belonged to her.
Flipping a few pages, he noted that the book was, indeed, the book the cover claimed it to be. "Sorry about that, Drac-I mean, Pansy." Harry said. He had still been looking down at the page with Draco's name on it, and Harry had forgotten for a moment that it was Pansy standing in front of him with a palm outstretched, waiting for the book to be returned to her. Luckily for him, the only person that seemed to notice his slip-up was Ron, and he didn't say anything. He handed the book over and he and Ron quickly made an exit.
"What was that?" Ron asked once they were in the safety of their Common Room.
"What was what?" Harry replied with his own question as he plopped himself into a chair in front of the fireplace.
"You almost called her Draco." Ron accused.
"Oh, yeah. Well, his name was in the book. I just sort of spaced for a moment, I suppose," Ron seemed to deem this as an acceptable answer, and sat himself down in a seat beside Harry.
"It's almost dinner time." He stated.
"Hmm," Harry replied. "Wonder where Hermione's gotten to."
Ron shrugged. "It's best if she gets it out of her system. I really do wonder what's wrong with her. Maybe she'll be in a better mood when we go down for dinner."
No such luck. When Harry and Ron got down to the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione was sitting between Dean and Seamus, and her eyes were blazing. Ron glanced at her for a moment before sitting down across from her. "Uh, hi, Hermione," He said nervously.
Hermione snorted and left the table quickly, with a wounded Ron staring after her like a lost puppy. Meanwhile, Harry had the weirdest sensation that someone was staring at him. Looking up, his eyes met immediately with none other than Draco Malfoy's. Draco's eyes were flashing, and a small smile pulled the corners of his lips up. Harry raised an eyebrow and Malfoy did the same in return. It was Harry who broke eye contact first, and when he looked back up, Malfoy had turned around and seemed to be holding a most hilarious conversation with Blaise, who was hunched over and convulsing in laughter.
"Uh, Ron, could you pass the pumpkin juice?" Harry asked in a distracted voice.
When dinner was finished, Harry and Ron parted ways. Ron stated that he had "Prefect duties" he had to uphold, and quickly ran up the steps ironically leading in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.
Harry sighed and decided that it would be best to leave Ron and Hermione alone for at least a few moments. Things had been so strained lately with Hermione acting the way she did, and Ron, though wounded, was also stubborn, and refused to ask Hermione what was wrong, lest it be something about Viktor. Rubbing his eyes, Harry wandered up the stairs and walked around for a few moments, biding his time until he felt it safe to enter the common area.
As he entered the hall to Gryffindor house, he immediately noticed two things; One, he could hear muffled yelling even through the stone wall, which meant something was going on (and the voices sounded suspiciously like those of one Ron Weasley and one Hermione Granger), and Two, the fat lady was no where to be found. Grinning, Harry walked back down the way he had come, and soon he was in the Dungeons, though how he got there he had no clue.
"Hello, Potter." Harry spun around at the voice of Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy," Harry greeted through gritted teeth.
"What brings you to these parts, Potter?" Malfoy asked, a twinkle in his eyes that made Harry immediately uneasy. "And at such a late hour, as well?"
Harry held back the urge to hit Draco, and in as steady a voice as he could manage, he said, "My house's portrait lady has disappeared."
"And what kind of an excuse is that? Has someone slashed her out of her portrait again? I would have thought that you would have been smart enough to give him the password this time, but apparently not."
Harry glared. "The people in the commons are being particularly…loud, tonight. They scared her off."
"Well, this does seem to be quite a strange occurrence. But as Gryffindors are usually loud, it doesn't seem to be quite a negotiable excuse, to me. Perhaps you need a few extra detentions for roaming about the halls after hours."
Harry sighed. "Ron and Hermione are fighting! Okay? Is that alright with you? You wanted to know, after all! Well, there you go! They're fighting, and forgot that I wasn't there yet so that they could have time to be alone together."
Draco seemed to be analyzing Harry's answer. "…Why would they be fighting?"
Harry didn't know whether or not to answer this question. "Well, why do you want to know?"
"Look, Potter, I know you don't trust me, and you have a perfect reason not to, but I want you to know that I'm not like him."
"Like my father, you git. I'm not like him. I see no reason to worship some man who's clearly insane. Of course mud-bloods aren't great, but they don't deserve to die. Especially by the hands of a man who thinks he's the best wizard in the whole of Wizarding history."
Harry eyed Draco suspiciously, and Draco sighed. "Look, I'm not marked." Draco said, rolling up his sleeve to prove his point. "And I don't plan on being marked. I'm going to tell you this now, because I want you to know that I'm on your side. This is our seventh year here, and obviously our last, and I want you to know that when we're in battle, I'll have your back. That way you won't try to kill me or anything stupid like that."
Harry grinned. "And how can I be so sure?" He asked, jestfully.
Draco shrugged. "I guess you'll just have to take my word for it, won't you?"
Harry's smile faded slightly as he looked into Draco's eyes. "How do I know you won't stab my back?"
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed again. "You have some serious trust issues, don't you?"
"Well, if you were going to be killed by one of the most powerful wizards of all time for clearly no reason, wouldn't you, too?"
"I've already told you that he's not a great wizard, Harry. He's just mad, and along with that comes a great sense of superiority. Of course he's going to think he's great. But he's afraid of Dumbledore, isn't he? That's got to mean something, doesn't it?"
"Are you saying that Dumbledore's not a good wizard?"
Draco snorted. "Hardly. It's just that if Voldemort's such a great wizard, why would he fear a mere headmaster? No, it's because he isn't nearly as good a wizard as he claims. Dumbledore has influence over the Death Eaters, because most of them came here. And most of them trust Dumbledore. They don't trust him nearly as much as they trust Voldemort, but if Voldemort falls yet again, who do you think they're going to turn to? My father won't, but some others…well, they might."
Harry frowned thoughtfully. "Yes," He agreed, partially because he couldn't think of anything else to say, and partially because he didn't know half of what Draco had been saying. Somewhere between the words "I told you…" And "Doesn't it?", Harry had noticed that Draco had very nice lips, and that he wouldn't mind kissing those lips, if given the chance.
"Harry?" Harry jumped in surprise at the voice. It was much closer to him that it had been a few moments before. "Are you okay?"
"Er…uh, yeah, just fine." Harry said, tearing his eyes away from Malfoy's lips and straight into those searing silver eyes. "I was just…thinking."
Draco cocked his head. "About what?"
"Um…nothing important, really. Does…Dumbledore know that you've decided to betray your father?"
Draco looked shocked for a moment at the quick subject change, but took it in stride, none-the-less. "Yes. He's taken me to 12 Grimmuald Place, and he says that after I graduate, I can take up residence there. He says it's actually yours, but he also said that he was sure you wouldn't mind. He said you'd be staying there, too. After we…graduate…that is." Draco's voice trailed off. He noticed that once again Harry was eyeing his lips, and his own eyes were drawn to a pair of lips that belonged to a certain emerald-eyed man. His own tongue raced out to wet his lips, but to no avail. His mouth was as dry as cotton.
Harry noticed the movement and his eyes darted towards the beautiful pink tongue. He was quite disappointed when it disappeared into Draco's mouth again.
Draco took an unexpected step closer, and Harry snapped out of his musings, only to notice that Draco's eyes were fixed intently on his own lips. Harry stiffened. "Uh, Draco?"
"Now, now, Potter. No need to be so tense with me. We both know what we want."
At this, Harry shot him a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, don't play bloody stupid with me!" Draco exclaimed. "You know what the bloody hell I mean!" He was slowly stepping towards Harry, his foot falls muffled and barely noticeable. It was as though he were a cat, stalking his prey.
Harry suddenly noticed how extremely hot he was in his robes, and how suddenly close Draco Malfoy was, and his train of thought flew out the window as he stepped away. "N-no," He stuttered. "No I d-don't." But he had a slight clue.
Draco's lips curled up into a smile. "But you do know, Harry." He said. "You know, and you've known since we've arrived here on the train. And you want it just as much, if not more, so don't even try to deny it." He advanced closer, and Harry was forced up against the wall.
"I-I haven't a clue w-what you m-mean." Harry said as sweat started to form on his brow.
Draco's eyes sparkled. "I don't know what you've done to me," He whispered. "But you've got me here now, and I'll give you what you want. Just stop your god damned teasing, already!"
"W-what I want?"
"I've already told you, don't play dumb."
"Wait a minute! I haven't been teasing you." Harry said, as his confusion was clearly written on his face.
"Hmm," Draco hummed, stepping another step closer. They were now mere inches apart. All he had to do was lean a bit closer, and…there.
Harry stiffened again when Draco's lips touched his. At first, he muffled protests, but when Draco's tongue slipped across his lips, he had to give in. His body melted into the grip of Draco as his eyes slid shut, and he couldn't help but feel that this was right, this was the way things were supposed to be. And for a moment, he forgot completely about Voldemort, and the fact that they were in a very commonly used hall of the Slytherin house, and that anyone who just decided to walk by at this particular moment would find them in one of the most heavenly embraces Harry had ever felt, no matter how wrong it should have been.
Draco let out another satisfied hum as he pulled away, and Harry found himself leaning out for more, his lips slightly parted and his eyes still closed. Realizing his position, he quickly leaned back against the wall and his eyes popped open. A very dazed looking Draco grinned down at him, and Harry sighed. "What…what was that?"
Draco looked at him scornfully. "Even the dimmest of people could figure out that that was a kiss, Potter. Honestly, what's wrong with you?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I mean, why did you do it?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Well…I…I don't know, really. I just…had an urge."
Harry's brow furrowed as he looked at Draco. "An urge? To kiss your worst enemy? Oh yes, what a lovely urge to give in to."
"Oh, give it a rest, Potter. You liked it, and don't you dare say that you didn't. I saw the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head! Just admit it. That was the best kiss you've ever received. And you know you wanted it, too!"
Harry muffled a laugh. "Oh, yes. By the way, I'm gay and would love it if you'd be my secret lover."
Draco paled considerably. "You can't be serious."
Harry burst out laughing. "Of course I'm not serious, you git! You should see your face. Oh, priceless." Another fit of giggles overtook Harry, and suddenly he found it hard to stand, so he slid down the wall, his body shaking sporadically in silent laughter.
Draco cocked a brow at him. "Well," He stated, somewhat to get his dignity back. "I'm gay."
Harry choked on one of his laughs. Suddenly it wasn't quite so funny anymore, and he was having troubles with breathing. Draco rolled his eyes and thumped him on the back. When Harry finally got his breathing under control, he asked in a shaky whisper, "W-what did you say?"
"I said I'm gay," Draco stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh, wait till Ron finds out. He'll have a field day. That's ten galleons down the drain," Harry mumbled to himself. Draco looked shocked.
"I would have thought that out of the both of you, you would have been the one to cotton on," Draco said, surprised.
"Cotton on to what, the fact that you like other guys? I think that's hardly an important factor to know about your worst enemy."
"I wish you would stop saying that. We're not enemies."
"What else would we be? You're the son of a Death Eater, and I'm destined to kill or be killed by Voldemort because neither of us can live while the other does!" Gasping, he clamped his hand over his mouth. Damn you! he berated himself internally. You can't even tell your best friends what the damn prophesy said, even though Dumbledore told you to, but you can tell your worst enemy in a heart beat! Wonderful, just grand!
Draco raised an eyebrow. "I thought we have just established that I'm on your side and that being the son of a Death Eater does not matter to me. I…What?"
"I just…nothing. You wouldn't understand." Harry replied, standing and dusting himself off.
"Well…this is getting awkward." Draco pointed out the obvious, and Harry glared at him.
"No, I enjoy being snogged unexpectedly by someone who I hate and then revealing something I couldn't even tell my friends. I really do. Thanks a bunch, Draco. We should really do this more often."
A hurt look came into Draco's eyes. "You hate me, huh? Well, I don't really know what I was thinking to begin with. I mean, how could this ever work, right?" With that, he turned on his heal and left, leaving a stunned Harry in his wake.
Draco was angry at himself. I shouldn't have done that. I was reading his signals all wrong. He'll never forgive me now. Damn it! Why do I always have to ruin everything?
Turning a sharp corner, he almost ran smack into none other than Pansy Parkinson. "Hiya, Draco!"
"Uh, hi Pansy. I'm sort of-"
"Thanks for letting me borrow your book. But that dumb Potty had to go and soil it by touching it." She pouted slightly as she handed it back. "I'm sorry."
"Uh, yeah. Well, it was no problem." Draco said distractedly.
"Are you okay, Draco? You seem a little…different."
"Yes, I'm fine. Just…tired, is all. I think I'm going to go to bed now. Thanks for giving the book back. Now I'll have something to read in McGonagall's tomorrow. Her class is awfully boring." He said, though they both knew that Draco liked her class second only to Snape's, and that he always paid very close attention to the details.
"Yeah," she agreed, slightly miffed. "She and her stupid Gryffindors."
Draco nodded absentmindedly and walked away. Maybe he'll be there tomorrow. Draco thought to himself. Then, No, of course he'll be there. He's always there. Maybe I'll have a chance to apologize. And maybe we can snog a little bit more. And maybe… A grin came to his lips as he thought of all the possibilities.
To be continued...
A/N: I love reviews, so when you get the chance, please do so! Also, constructive criticism is much appreciated! I work hard on my fics, and any chance I can get to improve them I'll take.