Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who well wished my family and to those of you who gave me some lovely reviews. Both are very much appreciated and cherished. :) Also, as a reminder, if for whatever reason you can't reach my stories here (or just don't want to) then you can find them at insane journal, username: thequietdawn


Chapter 11

Fame and fortune, glitz and glamour, that's what Malfoy's lived for; what their name represented to so many. People, families, entire classes of people thrived to be like them. They were the epitome of all things luscious and prestigious. They were Malfoys; a power to be reckoned with. In every sense.

Lucius Malfoy Sr. proved that, as that he was thoroughly immersed in fame and fortune, even before he'd married Narcissa. As a high profile businessmen who harbored dreams of expansion, corporate takeovers and, if Draco knew his father at all, the fantasies of ruling the known universe -- he was who so many ambitious, young aspiring businessmen and women looked up to. Nothing stood in his way; no challenge lay unmet. Lucius Malfoy's motto was simple: "Nothing is improbable. The impossible just takes longer."

It was a motto that Draco, himself, had adapted to his life in varying degrees. Much like his father, he had a penchant for business; some deep seeded knowledge of how the corporate world worked. But, unlike his father who was willing to use his power, his money and his persuasion to get what he wanted. Draco used his body, his looks and his sensuality.

Just like his mother had before she'd met his father. Or so he'd heard rumored but never confirmed. If his father had been, and still was, known for the impossible, Narcissa Malfoy had been known for being the most improbable catch of the time.

And so, that was how Lucius Malfoy met his wife. Through the improbable.

Narcissa Malfoy, then Black, from the prestigious and most honorable house of Black, whose glitz and glamour were world renown, was untouchable. Unattainable. Unbelievably beautiful and most importantly, beyond the reach of even the most ambitious businessmen. Even if said businessman was Lucius Malfoy, who'd -- when he had first met her -- had just begun to make a name for himself in the corporate world.

Draco knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that alone had been enough to seal his mother's fate.

Narcissa's unattainable status had started the fires burning and Lucius had known: Narcissa Black was going to be his. His for the taking, his for the keeping and his to make his wife. She was going to be his and his alone.

So, with a single-mindedness that was mirrored in his son, he had done what other colleagues and competition had sworn was a waste of valuable time and could never be done. He'd courted Narcissa Black; he'd plotted, schemed and made, what he considered, worthy sacrifices for the woman he knew was going to be his. He'd even gone so far as to concoct a brilliant plan by using one of his best friends and confidants, Severus Snape, as bait to entice the young woman to notice him.

He had done this until, and with the brief assurance from his friend, he knew that Narcissa wanted him as desperately and thoroughly as he wanted her. That she knew that Lucius Malfoy was the only one who was able to give her exactly what she needed.

Then, he disappeared from her life.

Not for long, mind you, nor for any purpose other than to achieve his goal but it was necessary albeit risky move. But for a man known for his almost psychic abilities in business and the chancy maneuvers he took to overthrow the competition -- it was the most plainly obvious thing to do. You built the competition up, you made them want what you had and then you took it all away.

Just like that. And, it worked. It always worked.

After all, though it had taken longer than Lucius would have wanted , Narcissa Black had done exactly what he'd expected her to do: she'd come to him. She'd come to him and he'd made sure she didn't leave. Not until he'd made her his wife, that is.

In a matter of two months since his sudden disappearance from the woman's life, they were engaged to be married and less than a year later, they were. Narcissa Black had turned out to be the best chance he'd ever taken with his life.

She made him the perfect wife. Painfully beautiful, sharp witted and eagle eyed, the woman had helped advance his career as well as their fortune in less than a fortnight. It hadn't taken long before Narcissa became pregnant.

Their first and only child, Draco, had been born less than a year later and secured Lucius biggest worry: who would be his rightful heir and successor to the Malfoy family fortune as well as a small but overwhelmingly impressive dowry from the Black's that was handed down to every daughter in the family. Draco's position in life had been permanently locked into place before he'd taken his first breath in the world.

Moreover, with being born into such a family, the fame and fortune, the glitz and glamour clung to him like a second skin. It was, as many had found, a lethal but highly intoxicating combination. Beauty and brains. Fortune and fame. Glitz and glamour.

He could have whatever he wanted. And right this moment, all he wanted was a boy with flashing green eyes and golden skin.

'Merlin, what I wouldn't give to touch him right now.' He thought, letting his eyes flow over the other boy's features; drinking in the beauty that was making a clenching warmth spread in the pit of his stomach. 'Or have him touch me. He looks so fucking good right now.'

No truer statement had ever been thought by Draco. Harry did look good. His face was flushed, his eyes were a dark forest green and his pink lips were slightly open where he sucked in tiny gasps of air. It made Draco want to shove him against the bar top and devour him.

But he wasn't going to push it. Not yet at least. As it was, he was already toeing the line by invading some of Harry's personal space. Barely a thighs width apart, if either Harry or himself shifted on their stools, their legs would be pressed flush against one another.

It was a temptation that Draco could scarcely resist. 'Control, Draco. Get some fucking control.' He growled to himself. The famous Malfoy control was, however, already hanging by a ever weakening thread and Draco had to clutch onto the napkin still clasped between his fingers to keep from shifting over or reaching out to touch the boy.

But then, Harry was licking his lips, a small shy smile forming as he looked down at the drink. Blunt fingers began fiddling with the edge of the glass, caressing the delicate surface with long gentle touches.

Draco fought back a choice curse, wishing again for his famous control. What he wouldn't give right now to take that glass's place. To feel those work roughened fingers smooth over his skin, rub against his thighs, wrap around his cock.

"So, would you, Harry? Give me what I wanted?" Draco forced himself to ask, again, barely caring that his voice was deep and husky with need.

A bashful flicker of green eyes that widened when they took in Draco's hungry appearance and Harry's smile grew minutely. "Depends on what you wanted…Draco."

'I want you, Harry. Only you.' Draco groaned mentally, forgetting all about anything remotely concerning control as he shifted on his stool, feeling the electrifying brush of Harry's denim clad leg against his khakis. A delicious heat radiated from the material, seeping into Draco's skin and almost driving him mad with need.

He shifted again, feeling a subtle return of pressure as the other boy did his shifting of his own, turning his head to stare at Draco. The boy's lips were still lifted into a tiny smile of moments ago but something was…different. Something that made the blonde's pulse speed and stomach clench.

Draco leaned forward, feeling mesmerized as he realized Harry was doing the same. His eyes drifted to the boy's lips. They were pink and rosy, reminding him of cherry lip balm and cotton candy. The only thought, the only word that ran through his mind then was 'devour'.

"Harry…" Draco murmured, feeling the boy's body shift even more and warm breath caress his face. He licked his lips, smiling when he heard the soft groan that emanated from deep within the boy's throat. Draco tore his gaze up until they were staring into the swirling depths of a deep green sea. "Harry…"

A second more and their lips would be touching. Their mouths would be consuming the others and Draco would finally get to feast on that sweet, sweet mouth.

"Draco…" Harry murmured huskily, eyes fluttering shut. Draco groaned, letting his own eyes close as the first barely there contact of those perfect lips…

'Oh thank fucking God, I'm about to kiss my--'

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, HOW COULD YOU!"