Title: Friendly Get Together (I guess this is a togetherness series)
Scene: For the most part, this takes place in Draco's London flat (starts at number twelve Grimmauld Place, but quickly moves over to Draco's)
Summary: Why is it so hard for Harry to tell his friends about his new found tie to Draco Malfoy? And, is Draco's way any better...or just quicker?
This is PART THREE in my "Togetherness" series...if you want background, go read parts one and two.
Pairings: DM/HP...others RW/HG, DG/VK, DD/PP, RS/LL, NL/HA, TN/MB, BZ, DS (this last one is taken from possible list given by JKR...I'll post HUGE explanation at the end of this post)
Rating: I rated this M for no other reason than the few f-words. Oh wait! No, the M rating is for the actual sex at the end (see "warning").
Warning: Slash is implied early on by our boys' delicate conditions (M-PG...don't read this if you don't like that sort of thing), with some man/man kissing here and there, and some quick man sex at the end...and it's very quick...sorry.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! At least, nothing that's Harry Potter...all of that, of course, belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
Note: I've decided to post this series of scenes between Harry and Draco as separate "complete" stories, because I'm afraid that I'm going to lose interest and just stop updating...and I know how much people hate that, because I do too. Each "scene" should be complete in and of itself. I will try not to leave you hanging, though I may imply that there'll be more to follow. I hope you can forgive my strange way of getting around using the "in progress" function...and for not continuing the series, should I so choose to just be done with it.
Posted: Monday, 28 November 2011
Word Count: 7,606 (this is minus all my babblings...that's why it doesn't match what ff(dot)net says the word court is)
Friendly Get Together
Friday, December 17, 2021
The morning following Harry and Draco's lustful romp found the two men in much more agreeable moods. In fact, Harry agreed to Draco's plan of telling Ron and Hermione about the change in their relationship together, at a dinner party in Draco's flat (with a few of Draco's friends present), and Draco agreed (with only minimal pouting) to postpone said 'dinner party' to the next available weekend—which turned out to be two weekends later (because Harry's friends were busy the next weekend and Draco's friends the one following). But that didn't mean that Harry was any less nervous about his friends' reaction. Though he knew both Ron and Hermione loved him dearly, he didn't know if they'd be able to accept what he had to tell them.
Nervously, Harry paced in front of the Floo of the tapestry room at Grimmauld Place, waiting for his friends to arrive. He'd told them he wanted to take them to dinner, but hadn't told them exactly where they were going or who they'd be joining—and he didn't plan on telling them, thinking it better to just get them there and let them see for themselves. That plan, however, seemed quite reckless when Ron and Hermione stepped through his Floo with matching questioning looks.
"What's going on, mate?" Ron immediately asked, not bothering to brush the Floo powder from his casual eveningwear—black trousers and a deep green jumper. "I heard you're on desk duty."
Harry nodded. "You heard right, but...I'll tell you about it later."
"But," Ron started, but closed his mouth at the look being shot him by his wife.
"It's good to see you, Harry," she said, giving Harry a hug after tidying herself up a bit, then stepping back and smiling up at him. "You look good. Rested."
"Thank you, 'Ermione," he said—more cheerfully than he felt, but only because he was so worried about their reaction. "Er...we should go," he told them as he headed from the room. "We're Apparating."
Harry didn't want to use the Floo Network to bring them to Draco's flat, because, one, they'd then know where they were going, and two, traveling by Floo was dirty business and he didn't want them to be any more dirty than they had to be—because he knew Draco's friends would show up looking as immaculate as ever and he didn't want his friends to feel any more awkward than they had to. And there would be awkwardness, no matter how this was presented to his friends.
Pausing at the front door, Harry pretended to check his appearance in the mirror, but really he was waiting for Ron and Hermione to come up behind him. When he saw their reflection, he grinned and ran a hand through his messy hair, then turned and said, "Ready?"
"I'd be more ready, mate, if you'd tell me where we're going and what in Merlin's name is going on," Ron grumbled as he followed Harry out onto the front steps of his house.
"Sorry. Can't." Then, grabbing Ron's hand and one of Hermione's, Harry Apparated them to a place they'd never been—the inside foyer of Draco Malfoy's flat.
Once there, Harry sighed and kept his gaze averted from his friends; he could feel their eyes drilling into his back, but couldn't bare the thought of answering their questions. And then they were distracted.
"Hello there, Harry," came a familiar cheerful voice from above them. "Ron. Hermione. Good to see you."
Looking up, they saw Luna Scamander (previously Lovegood), standing at the railing above them with a man that Harry presumed was her husband, Rolf. Harry'd met the man a time or two, but, not all that good with names and faces, he could only assume. Of course, his anxiety was a contributing factor to his jumbled memory.
"Hello, Luna," the three of them said in unison.
"Come up," the blonde said. "That foyer is full of Nargles. Don't want to get infested with them."
"Oh no, here we go," Ron whispered at the same time that Hermione frowned, looked at Harry, and said, "Since when do Rolf and Luna have a flat in London, Harry?"
"Um. They don't. Not that I know of," Harry said—then started up the stairs. At the top of a half-flight though, Harry stopped and looked at his friends. "Um. Why don't you guys go on...up those stairs around there," he said, indicating which way they should go. "I ahh...need to use the loo."
Hermione gave him a suspicious look, but nodded, took Ron's arm, and walked away.
As soon as they were out of sight, Harry changed direction and entered Draco's kitchen—where he found the man (and Pansy) having a bit of a disagreement.
"I told you," she was saying, "I couldn't help it. He wanted to see—"
"Harry!" Draco burst, his angry gray eyes immediately softening, then filling with...something. "You're here," he went on as he side-stepped the brunette woman and went to his now boyfriend. "I was just telling Pansy that you'd be here any minute."
"Were you now?" Harry asked suspiciously, his arms automatically going around Draco's waist as the blond pulled him in for a hug—and a kiss. Getting lost in the moment, Harry kissed back, his tongue tangling with Draco's, but then blushed furiously when they separated and he remembered the woman in the room. "Er...hi, Pansy."
Grinning evilly, Pansy gave a slight nod. "Potter."
"Care to tell me why Luna's here?" Harry asked, not sure which of them he was talking to.
"Hmm. I think you'll be more interested to know who else is here," Draco said, a frown on his face as he looked from his long-time friend to Harry. "Pansy's taken it upon herself to invite several others who, she's decided, should know about us."
Frowning, Harry glanced at the woman. "Please tell me you didn't bring your husband."
"I'm afraid so, Potter," the woman said. "My Duddles has been asking about you ever since I told him—"
"You told him?" Harry growled.
"No," she drawled, her eyes rolling with exasperation. "What I was going to say...before I was so rudely interrupted...was, ever since I told him you and Draco were friends," she said. "Honestly, Potter, this is not all that big a deal. Most of us saw it coming years ago, but you two are just so stubborn; had to dance around each other for thirty fucking years. I cannot even fathom foreplay lasting that long."
Groaning, Harry ran a hand through his hair, then looked at Draco in panic.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter! It'll be all right," Pansy snapped with obvious irritation. "Your cousin's parents might be the worst example of Muggles ever, but Duds is fantastic! In every way possible, I might add," she added suggestively.
At this Harry's forehead knotted with disgust and he slapped his hands over his ears. "Oi! None of that talk! That's just nauseating!"
This made Pansy glare at him. "Grow the fuck up, Potter! You'll accept Draco's cock up your arse, but you can't bear the thought of Dudley and I doing the dirty? You're such a child!"
"She's got a point, Harry," Draco said with a chuckle.
Harry's narrowed his eyes at Draco, as if to say, shut it, then sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and looked at the woman. "So...um...how much does he know?" he asked. "Dudley, I mean."
"Not a damned thing," Pansy said angrily. "I kept my promise to Draco and gave him no details, but I couldn't tell him I was going to a dinner party and not invite him...he's my husband."
Harry nodded. He understood that perfectly, even if he didn't like it. "All right. Fine," he said. "Let's get this over with then."
But, before he could leave the room, Draco grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and yanked him back. "One more thing. There are a few more on the guest list," he said quickly. "Pansy and Daphne decided to invite a few others...just to make the evening more...party-like."
"Who else?" Harry asked with dread.
"Just a few...friends," said Draco.
"What you mean to say is, a few of your Slytherin friends," Harry translated.
"Well yes, but—" Draco started.
"Oh brilliant! Because that's comforting to me," snapped Harry, his eyes going to the dark-haired woman. "You really have no intention of making this easier on us, do you?"
"Oh, lighten up, Potter," Pansy said with another exasperated roll of her eyes. "In the long run, this will make things easier. The more you tell tonight, the less you have to tell later."
"Who'd you invite?"
"Your Longbottom friend."
She nodded. "And his Hufflepuff wife too. Aren't I nice?" she asked hopefully.
"Pfft! Yeah...you're lovely, Parkinson!"
"It's Dursley now, you moron!" she barked. "But thanks for calling me lovely. I was sure you were blind underneath those hideous glasses of yours, but apparently not." She grinned up at him, then flounced from the room, saying, "See you up there, darlings," as she left.
"Changed, has she?" Harry stated once Pansy was gone.
Draco shrugged. "She's not so bad, Harry. She's only trying to help," he said as he smoothed his hands over Harry's shoulders and down his arms. "I like your jumper."
Looking down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing—even though he'd spent at least an hour choosing what he'd wear—Harry fiddled with the hem of his jumper. "Yeah?"
Draco nodded. "Yes. Looks fabulous with your eyes," he said. "Of course, I'd like it better by far if it were elsewhere...say, crumpled up on the floor of my room and you were lying stark naked in the middle of my bed."
Harry grinned. "I think I like that idea. Let's do that instead," he quickly suggested, not at all wanting to go out and face the people in Draco's living room. Stepping forward, he put his arms around Draco's waist, pulled him in close, and kissed him hard—until the blond was gasping for breath—then nibbled gently on his swollen lips.
"We should...join our guests," Draco said.
"Not my guests," Harry said as he tilted his head and started kissing down Draco's neck.
Draco chuckled. "No, but what would everyone say if we just disappeared?"
"Dunno. Don't think I care right now," Harry said as he straightened up and ground himself against Draco. "We could tell them there's some sort of an emergency."
Draco closed his eyes and groaned. "An emergency, hmm?"
"In your pants?" Draco asked with a smirk.
"Works for me," the dark-haired man replied as he rubbed his slightly stubbly chin on Draco's smooth one. "Why's your face always so perfectly smooth?"
"Because I'm not a barbarian who uses one of those Muggle raker things—"
"Razor," Harry corrected, grinning at Draco's misuse of Muggle words.
"Whatever," Draco said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't use a razor, I use magic...because I'm a wizard, you twat."
"Maybe you should try using some Muggle scissors to cut off some of that hair," Harry suggested as he grabbed a handful of Draco's long hair, which was neatly pulled back and clasped at the nape of his neck with a thin black tie, because, if it wasn't, it fell to below his shoulders. "All this hair, tied back the way you have it, reminds me of Lucius," Harry said with a shudder. But he was teasing, and leaned forward to show Draco this by kissing him again (softly this time)—and that's when the kitchen door opened and someone came in.
"Oh. Sorry," said the person. "I was looking for...Harry?"
Realizing it was Hermione, the two men dropped their hands from one another and Harry took a step away from Draco, but of course it was too late, the damage was done; Hermione had obviously already seen them.
"I...ahh...I'm so sorry, Harry...Malfoy," she said with a nod, her face flaming red as she began to back awkwardly toward the door. "I'll just...go."
"Wait!" Harry burst. "I...I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't want you to find out this way. We were going to tell you...everyone tonight, but..."
Frowning, Hermione looked from one man to the other. "This is what you've been hiding...Malfoy?
"Harry didn't know how to tell you guys, so we decided to tell everyone all at once," Draco said. He'd slung an arm over Harry's shoulder. "Pansy and Daphne already know, because...well, because they do, but...no one else does yet."
Hermione was still frowning; she was trying to wrap her brain around what she'd just seen and been told.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked after watching her for several seconds.
"Um. I will be," she said. "Once I process this. How long?"
Harry glanced at Draco, then back at his friend. "Well, there's a lot to tell, I suppose, but...it's only been serious for a couple weeks."
"I see," Hermione said with a nod, glad that she'd not been completely daft. But then she frowned. "But there's more, isn't there?"
Both men nodded at precisely the same time, but it was Draco who answered. "Oh yeah," he quipped with a smirk. "But let's save that for everyone, shall we?"
Biting her lip, Hermione nodded. She didn't think she had much of a choice, but she wasn't happy about having to wait.
"Merlin, Draco, you sound just like your father," Harry complained. "The way you just said that, I mean. It's kind of scary."
Rolling his eyes, Draco turned and quickly poured Harry a drink (pumpkin juice), then handed it to him and said, "Why don't you two go on out into the living room and I'll be right out."
Taking the proffered glass, Harry took Hermione's elbow and led her out.
"I wish you would have told me, Harry," she said as he rushed her up the stairs—quickly, so that he wouldn't have to get too much of the third degree from her.
"Sorry. Couldn't be helped," he said.
"Couldn't be helped," she repeated. "That's just...bollocks, Harry! I can't believe—"
"There you are, Harry!"
Harry looked up to see Ron crossing the room to him.
"I assumed you'd taken us to Luna's, but Neville said this is Malfoy's place."
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
"What in Merlin's name are we doing at Malfoy's?"
Harry turned at his name and saw his cousin, Dudley, approaching with Pansy at his side—and he was surprised by the change in the man. Dudley had been a fat slug of a boy, a bully who'd contributed to Harry's childhood misery, but he'd grown into a tall, if somewhat still overweight, handsome man.
"Dudley?" Harry said with surprise.
The hefty blond man nodded and gave Harry a smile that seemed slightly unsure. "It's...ahh...good to see you after all these years, Harry," his cousin said as he stuck out his hand.
After only a moment's hesitation, Harry reached out and took his cousin's hand, and shook it firmly, then said, "You...ahh...look great, Big D."
Dudley chuckled. "The wife's done wonders, eh?" he said as he cast a glanced at the woman standing beside him.
Harry looked at Pansy; she was looking up at Dudley with adoration in her eyes. He'd known she'd married his cousin, had in fact met him on one of Professor Mitchell's class excursions into Muggle London, but he'd never seen them together—other than one picture that Draco had shown him—and he was surprised by the love he saw on her face when she looked at his cousin. And vice versa.
"Um. Yeah, she has," Harry admitted, very much thinking that possibly his cousin had had an effect on the woman as well—though he wasn't absolutely sure about admitting such a thing just yet. "Didn't expect to see you here." Or anywhere, he added silently.
At this Pansy rolled her eyes. "Like I said, Potter, I wasn't about to leave my husband behind while I went to a dinner party. That would be rude."
Harry frowned. "Right. Of course it would."
Taking his wife's hand, Dudley said, "I'm sorry to hear about your wife."
"Oh...ahh...thank you," said Harry. "That's very...kind of you."
"Pansy told me it was a Quippage accident."
"It's Quidditch, darling," Pansy gently corrected, patting his forearm lovingly with her free hand. "Remember, Quidditch is the wizarding sport I told you about."
Dudley nodded. "Oh yes...the one on broomsticks. Sounds...exciting."
Pansy nodded. "Yes. I'll have to take you to a match sometime. Harry here, was a Seeker...back in the day."
Raising a brow, Dudley looked at Harry. "I'd love to see you play sometime."
"Oh no," Harry said with a shake of his head while holding a hand up in protest. "I haven't sat a broom in so long, I'm not sure I'd even know how anymore."
"Pfft! It's not something you forget, Potter," Pansy scoffed. "You were the best Seeker ever, or so 'they' say...better even than our Draco," she said with a pout. "Would have liked to see him get the better of you at least once."
Harry didn't say anything, but he did smirk.
"Did I hear my name?" came an almost purring voice. Slipping up beside the small group, Draco leaned down and kissed Pansy's cheek, gave Dudley a polite nod—winked slyly at Harry—then smirked at everyone else. "Talking about the good old days, are we?" he asked.
"Humph! I'd hardly call them the good old days, darling," Pansy said. "I was just telling my Duddles about your and Potter's days on the pitch and how I wish I could have seen you best the Chosen One. But, alas, it never happened."
At this Draco grimaced and looked at Dudley. "The little runt was impossible to beat," he said. "Though I've heard you put the beat down on him a time or two."
Both Dudley and Harry blushed at this.
"Well...ahh...I...um..." Dudley stammered—at the same time that Harry glowered, then hissed, "Malfoy!"
"Now, Draco darling," Pansy cut in, "that's not at all nice. Let's let bygones be...well...gone. Bye-bye. And all that."
"Of course," Draco said, "Silly of me to bring up the past. Oh wait. Wasn't me who brought up the past."
Then with a grin—and another wink at Harry—Draco went off to chat with some others.
Squeezing Dudley's hand, Pansy said, "I'll be over there," she said—then grabbed Hermione's hand and tugged at it. "Come with me...girl talk."
Startled, Hermione only had time to glance at those she was being dragged away from, and then she found herself being pushed down onto a couch next to two other ex-Slytherin woman—Pansy making herself comfortable on the edge of the coffee table.
"That was...um...different," Ron said after watching Hermione stumble away. His gaze now on Harry, Ron took a large gulp of his Firewhiskey and frowned. "What's going on here, Harry?" he said after swallowing the fiery liquid. "Since when do we socialize with Slytherins?" He didn't at all like being in Draco Malfoy's flat, nor did he like the fact that his wife was sitting—and laughing—with three Slytherin women.
Taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, Harry shrugged—but didn't have to answer, because Luna and her husband appeared.
"You got away from the Wifflesnarfs, I see. The plant in the corner is full of them," she said and pointed, her pale eyes flitting from Harry to his cousin. "I don't believe we've met. You're a Muggle."
Dudley glanced at Harry, then nodded.
"Hard to believe Pansy married a Muggle, but...no matter," the blonde woman chirped. Then, to her own husband, she said, "She wanted to turn Harry over to Voldemort, but no one would allow it."
Rolf nodded, but didn't comment—but Dudley did.
"My wife has expressed great regret over her actions in the past," he said, his eyes on Harry. "I feel similarly."
Harry nodded. "It's fine, Dudley. I'm over it. Twenty-four years over it."
Dudley only frowned.
"I think I'll go collect a Wifflesnarf or two," said Luna. "They'd be good for the soil under the Dirigible Plums in my father's garden." Then, looking at Harry's cousin again, Luna pulled off what looked like radishes dangling from her ears, and extended them to the Muggle man. "Here. Dirigible plums enhance the ability of one to accept the extraordinary," she said—then pranced off with her husband, saying, "Sure am hungry; I hope there's pudding."
Still holding the items in his hand, Dudley glanced at Harry. "Is she mad?"
Chuckling, Harry said, "Seems so, huh?"
Ron rolled his eyes, "Completely barmy, as far as I'm concerned. She's not changed a bit, has she?"
"Luna's really smart though," Harry said, "otherwise the hat wouldn't have sorted her into Ravenclaw."
"I suppose," Ron said rather noncommittally.
"And she's a pretty wicked witch," Harry continued. "Ability wise, I mean."
Ron nodded. "That she is, but...I still think she's not all there."
Harry laughed. "Yeah." Then to Dudley he said, "Just put them in your pocket; you can throw them out later."
Stuffing the earrings in his jacket pocket, Dudley shook his head. "Naw. I think I'll maybe give them to mum for Christmas," he said with a snicker. "She could definitely use her ability to accept the extraordinary enhanced."
Again, Harry laughed—quite exuberantly this time—and grinned up at his cousin. "Your mum and dad still miserable to deal with?"
Dudley shrugged. "They certainly weren't happy with my choice of wife; Dad about hit the ceiling. But they've...calmed down some since the girls were born."
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh. I had heard you two had children. Are they witches?" he asked curiously.
Dudley smiled and nodded, obviously proud even though he couldn't share in the magic—and then he frowned. "We're hiding it from mum and dad though, because I'm not sure they could understand. It infuriates Pansy, but...well...after the way they treated you, I don't want to have to worry about our girls. Pansy agreed, but she's not happy about it."
"That's completely mental," Ron interjected. "They are what they are...your girls, I mean...just like Harry was. We can't help that we're wizards any more than you can help not being one."
Dudley nodded. "I get that now," he said. "I even think my mum does, but..." He shrugged, his face sad. "I suppose they'll figure it out sooner or later. I mean, the girls are gone ten months a year...just like Harry was. How could they not figure it out, right?"
This made Harry frown—because his kids had more relatives at Hogwarts than he'd realized. "What years are they?"
"Dahlia's a first year and Daisy's a third year."
"Hmm. My Lily's a third year as well," Harry said.
"And my Hugo too," Ron put in. Then, his eyes narrowed, the red-haired man asked, "What Houses?"
"Daisy's in Hufflepuff...much to her mother's dismay," said Dudley.
This caused both Ron and Harry to laugh. "Serves her right!" Ron said after his laughter had subsided enough to speak.
"Yeah...well...made my dear wife even more determined to turn our second child into a Slytherin," Dudley said. "And she got her wish."
"Oh. I'm sorry," said Ron.
"Hey!" Harry snapped. "Lily's in Slytherin House and she's perfectly happy there...and you can keep your nasty comments about it to yourself, Ron. Or I'll tell your wife you're going on again," Harry threatened. It was no secret that Ron still loathed Slytherin House, but, when Lily sorted into Slytherin, Hermione and Ginny had called a family meeting to insist that everyone not make a big deal about it—threatened them all on pain of death, would be a better way of putting it. And they'd been fairly good. In fact, it was only Ron who slipped at times, but he'd not yet been caught by his wife.
Ron nodded. "Right. Sorry mate."
"Is Slytherin really that bad?" Dudley asked, confused.
"Well...ahh...I suppose not," Ron all but stammered. "Not in theory."
Harry rolled his eyes. "And not in reality either," he told his cousin. "They were pains in our arse in school, but...they got a bad rap."
"It's true, Ron," Harry protested before looking at Dudley again. "Most Slytherins are pure-bloods, you see...because that's what their founder, Salazar Slytherin, wanted," he said. "And so, like their founder, most of them raise their children to think they are better than the rest. Just like the rest of the Houses, mind you. We Gryffindors think we're the best as well."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Because we are," he said loftily.
"Well, of course we are," Harry agreed with a cheeky grin. "But that's not the point, is it? The point is that Slytherin House is just as good a House as any...and I'm just as proud of my little Slytherin as I am my two Gryffindors."
"Ahh, Potter, that's so nice to hear," came Draco Malfoy's drawl as he once again slipped up beside them, this time lazily resting his forearm on Harry's shoulder and leaning somewhat into him. "And here I thought all you Gryffindorks were like the Weasel here."
Ron's eyes widened at first, then narrowed suspiciously. "I don't know what you're playing at, you perverted little Ferret, but—"
"See now, I invite him and his lovely wife to my party and he accuses me of being a deviant," Draco said, "which I'm not, of course." Smiling broadly, Draco looked at Harry's cousin. "What Potter's trying to convey here, Dudley, is that there's nothing to worry about; Dahlia will be perfectly fine in Slytherin...Uncle Draco will see to that."
Ron rolled his eyes, but Dudley smiled—if a bit nervously. Draco Malfoy had been nothing but kind to him in the years since he'd been married to Pansy; they'd even made the blond the godfather of their two daughters.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to check on a few things," Draco said. Casting a brief look at Harry, he turned and disappeared again.
"Do you think Malfoy's...you know...drunk or something?" Ron asked, making motions of tipping a glass up to his mouth the moment their blond host was out of sight. "I mean...strange that he invited us, yeah?"
"Um...no. Don't think he's drinking," Harry said. He'd better not be, he added silently, his gaze going in the direction Draco had gone—and wishing they could just throw everyone out so they could fuck like bunnies for the rest of the night. Sighing, Harry tried to pay attention to his friend and cousin—and the others that soon rejoined them.
"Good evening, everyone," Draco's voice broke in not long later—saving the day (as far as Harry was concerned). "I'd like to thank you all for coming to my little dinner party. And, since everyone's here now, let's go on down into the dining room and eat."
"Oh fabulous! I'm starving," Pansy said, then linked her arm through her husband's and pulled him along.
Smiling, Daphne hugged Hermione. "I'm so glad you're here...it's been a long time," she said giddily. They'd been roommates the year they'd all returned to finish their seventh year, but hadn't seen much of one another since. "It's good to see you after all this time."
Hermione nodded, but she was still in shock—and Daphne noticed.
"Wait. We apparently didn't talk enough earlier...you know, don't you?" Daphne whispered after steering her old roommate toward the dining room.
"Apparently not all of it, but...yes," the still bushy-haired woman said with a nod.
"I think they'll be happy, if that's any consolation to you," Daphne said, keeping the extra details she knew to herself. "Draco's been in...not so good a place since Astoria passed, but he seems better now. I like this union. And honestly...took them long enough to figure it out."
Hermione nodded, but wondered how she'd missed such a huge part of her friend; she'd never had any inkling that Harry was gay—after all, he'd been married to Ginny for years—let alone that he fancied Draco Malfoy.
"Your seats are here," Daphne said as she walked her old friend into the room. "We'll talk more later...if you want."
Hermione nodded and tried to smile, but she was afraid it didn't come out that way.
Daphne gave her a gentle pat, then turned and walked to where her assigned seat was.
"What the devil is going on?" Ron hissed as he came up behind his wife and pulled out her chair.
Sitting, Hermione pretended to not hear him, her eyes going to Draco Malfoy as he stood at the head of the table—beside a woman she vaguely recognized as someone they might have gone to school with, but whom didn't return to finish her seventh year. But Draco wasn't looking at her. Instead, he only had eyes for Harry—who was sitting down, but looking up at their blond host.
"Who's that?" Ron whispered, nodding his head at the woman.
Hermione shrugged. "Slytherin, I believe."
Ron nodded. "Suppose she's Malfoy's girlfriend."
Hermione shook her head. "Don't believe so, no," was all she was able to say—or wanted to say—before Draco cleared his throat.
"I have an announcement to make...that's why we've called you all here, of course," Draco said. "But we're going to make it later...after we all enjoy our meal."
A couple people around the table smiled knowingly, but most just nodded—and then the food began to show up with the appearance of house-elves.
Leaning forward, Ron said, "Harry, what're your house-elves doing here?" as he watched Kreacher pick up Hermione's napkin and place it on her lap.
"Thank you, Kreacher," she said, "that's so kind of you."
"Anything for Master Potter, ma'am," Kreacher croaked.
"You know you don't have to call me that, Kreacher," Hermione protested, "but thank you."
Kreacher nodded and moved on.
"Harry!" Ron hissed, now leaning back and talking to Harry behind Hermione. "Why's—"
"Ronald!" Hermione snapped, her eyes narrowing at him. "Not now."
Looking chagrined, Ron focused on his food, which made Hermione grateful—and Harry was as well. It was food, after all, so Ron was able to push his thoughts aside and tuck in quite easily.
"This is delicious, Draco," Luna said from her end of the table. "May I call you Draco?"
His fork halfway to his mouth, Draco paused. "Why, of course, Luna. We are, after all, suppering together as only friends would. May I consider you a friend?" the man asked his guest.
Smiling, Luna nodded. "I think I would like that. It is good...after all these years."
"Pfft!" Ron snorted—which caused Hermione to shove her elbow sharply into her husband's ribs and clear her throat loudly. "I must say I agree," she said. "It's long since time we put aside school house rivalries."
There were several nods.
"Vell, that is vhy ve didn't haff separate houses at Durmstrang," Viktor Krum said, speaking to the group for the first time. He'd once been interested in Hermione—had taken her to the Yule Ball during her fourth year—but was now married to Daphne. "Ve hat a castle also, not as big as your Hogvarts, nor as comfortable, I am thinking. Ve hat four floors, and the fires vere lit only for magical purposes, but ve hat grounds larger even than your school—though in vinter, ve hat very little daylight, so ve—"
"Dear," Daphne cut in, "I'm not sure all that is relevant right now."
Blinking, Viktor looked at his wife, then nodded. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
Smiling, Daphne patted her husband's knee, then looked at the group. "I'd have to agree that our House system at Hogwarts wasn't the best way to unite the school as a whole...though we did manage to make some lifelong friends."
"Thanks to our eighth year," Hermione added, her eyes scanning all those sitting around her.
"Well, I can drink to that," Draco said, raising his glass up. "To lifelong friends," he said.
Everyone at the table bought their glasses to the mouths, including Draco—but his was quickly whisked out of his hand by Harry. Rolling his eyes, Draco snatched it back. "Ours are alcohol-free, you prat," he hissed under his breath.
Blushing, Harry picked up his own and tentatively brought it to his lips; it was Muggle sparkling cider. "Sorry," he mouthed silently.
"Makes me wish I'd been able to return," the woman sitting next to Draco said. "Father forbade it, of course."
"You weren't alone, Darla," Theodore Nott put in. "My mother wouldn't allow it either. She said, and I quote, 'You'll return to that school only when Salazar is reborn and takes full control.'" The man rolled his eyes, but his cheeks pinked slightly, showing his embarrassment over the statement. And then, at Blaise Zabini, Nott glared. "Would you cease the flirting with my wife?" he hissed, not so quietly.
Mandy Nott (previously Brocklehurst), sitting between the two men, turned to look at her husband and said, "We're just talking, dear."
Ignoring his wife, Theo continued to glare at the darker man, but Blaise only chuckled. "Still a jealous fucker, I see," he said. "Don't worry, Theo, I wouldn't dream of seducing your wife when there are so many unattached persons for the picking. No offense intended, Mandy," he added.
"Oh. Of course not, Blaise," the woman said to her husband's friend.
"Besides," Draco cut in, "I think your lovely wife is missing a certain appendage that Blaise's current conquests require."
Theo's eyes narrowed. "You're...gay?"
Blaise picked up his glass and took a sip, then smirked. "Until some woman comes along who catches my fancy," he said with shrug. "I mean, why limit myself to just women when I can fuck anyone and everyone."
This caused Ron to choke on whatever it was he'd been swallowing, thus receiving a whack on the back from Hermione, but Theo only laughed. "I should have known. You always did have a short attention span."
Blaise grinned wickedly, then made an obscene gesture.
"Must you be so crass, Zabini?" Draco asked.
"Really, there are ladies present," Theo added.
This only made Blaise chuckle some more.
"And here I thought you and Darla were dating," Theo went on.
"Pfft!" Darla burst. "As if I'd date him. I'd probably catch something."
Pretending to be affronted, Blaise glared—but only teasingly. "Hey! I resemble that remark."
"You're disgusting, my friend," Theo said with a shake of his head as he forked his last bite of food into his mouth.
"Hey, it's never anything that a trip to St. Mungo's can't cure," Blaise joked.
Several people laughed.
"Better hope it doesn't fall off," Draco said with a snort. "Not sure St. Mungo's could fix that."
"Don't you worry, my friend," Blaise said. "It's, without question, completely intact." Then, his hands going down to the closure of his trousers, the darker man asked, "Shall I show you?"
"Um. Thank you, but...no," Draco said at the same time that someone's tightly balled-up napkin flew SMACK into Blaise's face.
"Must you be so vulgar, Zabini?"
Grinning, Blaise picked up Pansy's napkin and spelled it back to her, then said, "Of course I do, Pans...you wouldn't know me otherwise."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting!"
Blaise laughed. "Besides, wouldn't be the first time most of you had seen it," Blaise threw out teasingly as he lifted his wine glass to his mouth.
"Hmm. I had heard that you Slytherins held orgies," Mandy said. "Guess that rumor's confirmed."
At this Pansy rolled her eyes. "Absolutely false!" she denied. "Though, I couldn't tell you what the guys got up to in the boys' dorm."
Ron frowned. "I don't know about the rest of the Slytherin boys, but Blaise here was entirely without modesty; walked about our room in eighth year completely starkers."
"Came out into the upstairs hallway a time or two too," Neville added from his end of the table, his forehead pinched together, his cheeks pink.
"HAH!" Pansy burst. "I remember that. Millicent said Lavender was drooling...and wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks."
At this Blaise shuddered. "I remember too. That girl was a complete—"
"Oi, mate!" Ron bellowed as he poked his fork in the air in Blaise's direction. "If I recall correctly, Lavender spent a fair few nights in your bed that year."
Blaise snickered. "That she did. A beast in the sack, that one," he admitted. "Not that anyone was paying much attention that year. As I recall, you spent more time in Granger's room than ours. Found your cock that year, you did."
Both Ron and Hermione's faces reddened several shades. "All right. That's enough. Shut it, Zabini," said Ron, his hand squeezing his wife's.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, you two," Blaise said. "We'd had a tough year...with the war and all. We all deserved to go a bit wild."
"Hear, hear," someone said.
And then there was a moment of silence that no one seemed to want to break.
Then, from across the table, Hermione frowned. "You could take preventative measures, Blaise," she said, going back to the man's lascivious promiscuity. "I mean, there's no reason to expose yourself to such things, after all."
"Thank you for your concern, Hermione, but...I got it covered," Blaise reassured.
Still frowning, obviously worried for the man, Hermione tried again, "But—"
But she was cut off by someone else. "Tell everyone who you're dating, Darla dear," Daphne said with a mischievous grin at her friend.
"Oh no," the other woman said, "I'm not ready for that yet. Maybe next time we all get together I'll bring him. Maybe."
"So then, you're not dating Malfoy?" Ron threw out, his mouth still half full.
Darla's nose wrinkled up. "Certainly not! Wherever would you get that idea?" she asked.
"I...ahh...well...you two are sitting at the head of the table together," Ron stumbled over his words. "I just thought..."
"And so are Rolf and Dudley," Draco said with a nod down at the other end of the table, "You think they're a couple too, Weasel?"
"Well no, of course not, Ferret," Ron spat, his face red. "Merlin, I was just asking?"
And it was here that Draco glanced at Harry—who gave a clipped nod. Standing, Draco said, "All right now. I'd like everyone to stand up."
Frowning, everyone did what they were told.
"Now, please move one place to your left and sit down again," the blond said.
Mostly confused, everyone again did what he said.
Pulling out his wand, Draco rearranged everyone's dishes, then reached for his drink and took a sip. "Now, everyone's beside the person to whom they belong," he said casually—then pointed at Darla and Blaise. "Well, except for you two. Dessert anyone?" he asked the table at large before looking at Harry. "What would you like, love, treacle tart or trifle?"
For almost ten seconds, the room was silent—and then it erupted with people talking and just noise in general. Mainly it was Ron, demanding answers and Hermione trying to quiet him, but it was Dudley at the other end of the table too, repeatedly saying, "I KNEW it!" and Pansy giggling like a school girl. To Draco's left both Theo and Blaise were laughing heartily, and to his right Harry gaped—until he found his voice.
"DRACO!" Harry hollered as he whacked the blond on the shoulder.
Wincing, Draco rubbed where he'd been struck and said, "That's domestic abuse, I believe."
"How could you tell them like that?" Harry went on.
Still rubbing his sore shoulder, Draco continued. "What'd you want me to say, Harry, 'Good evening, everyone. Welcome to my home. Just wanted you all to know that Harry and I have decided to start fucking...'"
"Start?" Pansy cut in, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's a good one."
"'And oh! By the way, we're both expecting come June.' Should I have said all that?" Draco asked—then cringed because Harry looked murderous.
"DRACO!" Harry exploded. "Of course you shouldn't have, you...you prat! What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you be so...cavalier?"
Draco frowned. "I don't mean to be, love," he said, his right hand taking up Harry's left. "I just thought it would be easier this way. And look, we've got everyone's attention now," the blond said as he swept his free hand out to get Harry's eyes to focus on something besides himself. "They're all quiet now. See? Isn't it great?"
With a sigh, Harry chanced a glance at their guests; he completely expected to see censure and derision on each and every face, but that's not what he saw. There was shock and concern, sure, but nothing overly negative. Only Ron looked completely flabbergasted.
"What was that you said? You...you're dating...Malfoy?" Ron sputtered.
"And having my baby," Draco quipped glibly, his arm now linked through Harry's.
Harry'd opened his mouth to respond to Ron, but growled at Draco instead. "Would you just...shut up, Draco?"
Blinking, Draco huffed, uncurled his arm from Harry's, and sat back in his chair. "Fine."
"Thank you," Harry whispered, his hand reaching down to give Draco's knee a brief squeeze before turning to look at his friend. "Yes, Ron, I am both dating Draco...and carrying his child. Er...to be more accurate, we're both carrying a child."
"How did this happen? Wait. When did this happen? What the fuck's going on here, Harry?" Ron asked, an extremely pained—and confused—expression on his face. "And...and how did this happen?"
"You already asked how, Weasley," Draco put in. "Do I need to spell it out for you? The where we stuck whats, I mean? Or maybe I should draw you a diagram?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "You really can't shut it, can you?" he asked his boyfriend.
Draco shrugged. "Sorry."
Then, with a sigh, Harry spoke to his friend. "I'm sorry, Ron...especially about how you're finding out," he said, sending a quick glare at his boyfriend before looking back at Ron. "It just...happened," Harry tried to explain.
"But how is it even possible?" Ron asked. "You two are both...men!" Ron's gaze went to Draco, then back to Harry. "Well, one of you is anyway."
"HEY!" Draco burst—but he was ignored.
"Are you sure, Harry?" Ron continued. "I mean, maybe you just have...indigestion or...something."
Harry shook his head. "It's not indigestion, Ron...it's a baby. The healer showed us," Harry said as he took Draco's hand.
Ron saw the action and continued to frown. "This isn't possible," he said dejectedly. "It can't be."
"Oh, it's possible," Hermione interjected. "In this book at Hogwarts, I read—"
"Of course you did," Ron burst. "Is there anything you haven't read about, Hermione?"
"Well, I'm sure there are a fair few things I've not read about yet, but—"
"All right!" Ron said, his movements halting his wife's words. "I can handle this. Harry and Malfoy are now an item. I get it. And they're both having a baby. Babies! Hah! I cannot wait to tell George."
"Well, that went swimmingly...if I do say so myself," Draco said as he came out of his bathroom, slipped out of his gray silk robe and tossed it on a chair, then climbed into his bed and onto a very naked Harry.
"Right. Swimmingly," Harry repeated, his eyes closing as Draco's mouth came down on his—his soft lips and pearly teeth nibbling, his tongue caressing.
"And I do say so," Draco went on. "The real trick will be telling the children, I think," he said, his minty breath ghosting over Harry's chin as the blond made his way downward.
"Right. The children," parroted Harry, "because they'll be home for the hols tomorrooww." Feeling something warm and wet encompass his hardness, Harry groaned and, threading his fingers into Draco's silken locks, he rocked his hips, forcing the blond to take him fully into his mouth. "Let's not mention...them...while you're doing...that."
Smiling around Harry's cock, Draco let the other man control their actions—for a bit. But then he couldn't stand it; he pushed Harry's hands away and sucked in earnest—sucked until every muscle in Harry's body seemed to spasm, and he howled as he shot his come down Draco's throat. And then Draco sucked and lapped at him some more, so much so that the dark-haired man began to twitch and shudder and whimper.
"Please, Draco. Stop. It's too much," Harry whined, his entire body convulsing over and over again.
Chuckling, Draco backed off his lover's now oversensitive organ and pulled out his wand. A quick swish of it found the dark-haired man turned over, lying face down, his leg's spread wide—and with a flick he was prepared.
Tossing his wand aside, Draco bent over the man beneath him, licking his way up from the small of Harry's back, covering ever inch of his spine, until he reached his neck, where he latched on and sucked hard to mark Harry as his. With one arm wrapped under Harry, holding him about the chest, Draco snaked the other down to help feed himself past the tight ring and into the other man's body. And Harry moaned loudly when he entered him, causing Draco to pause, if only briefly—and then he fucked him into the mattress.
Insquequo tunc vices...
This is supposed to say something to the effect of "Until next time" (or something), but I don't speak Latin, so...this is what you get! ツ
Author's Notes (from hell)
Wifflesnarfs are completely made up
- Harry James Potter (b. July 31, 1980), (41) – black hair, green eyes
- Ginevra "Ginny" Molly Weasley-Potter (b. 1981), (dead – Quidditch accident) – red-haired, light brown eyes
- James Sirius Potter (16) – dark brown hair (?), blue eyes (?, like Uncle Ron's, maybe)
- Albus Severus Potter (15) – black hair, green eyes
- Lily Luna Potter (13) – red-haired, green eyes (?)
- Draco Malfoy (b. June 5,1980, (41) – pale blond hair, gray eyes
- Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy (dead – hemorrhaged giving birth to twins) – light blonde hair, blue eyes (?)
- Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy (15) – pale blond hair, gray eyes
- Carina Malfoy (3) – pale blonde hair, blue eyes (*)
- Cassiopeia "Cassie" Malfoy (3) – pale blonde hair, blue eyes (*)
(*) Note - I'm well aware that Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy never had twin daughters or that she died giving birth to said made up twins, but...this is MY STORY and I want it that way! So there!
(?) Further note – question marks indicate information that I either didn't know or just made up to suit my purposes (any of this could be changed later on, should I choose to add or remove)
Timeline (for my craziness)
– Friday, September 1, 2017 – Albus James Potter and Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy attend Hogwarts for the first time (all parents there to see them off, epilogue compliant)
– Astoria Malfoy dies after giving birth to twins
– Tuesday, September 1, 2020 – kids return to Hogwarts
– Tuesday, September 15, 2020 – Ginny killed in Quidditch accident in Holyhead
– Wednesday, September 1, 2021 – kids return to Hogwarts
– Friday, September 10, 2021 – Harry and Draco run into one another, get sloshed, and end up in bed together
– Monday, November 29, 2021 ("nearly three months since kids went back to school") – Harry and Draco unknowingly go to the same doctor and find out they're both expecting (Draco tells Daphne and Pansy later that same day)
– Friday, December 17, 2021 – Draco and Harry's get together at Draco's flat (Ron and Hermione are told...along with several others)
– Friday, June 17, 2022 – Harry and Draco's babies are due
- Harry James Potter — Lyra Clarissa Potter-Malfoy (female) – light blonde hair, green eyes
- Draco Malfoy — Phoenix Draconis Potter-Malfoy (male) – dark hair, with a hint of red (presumably from Harry's mother), gray eyes (I'm amused by Draco having a red-haired baby...slight as it may be...since it seems like he's not a fan of red hair)
Note on Names
Please note that I've tried to keep canon with character names. There are some, however, that I had to rely on the Lexicon (and even give first names to and sort the few that JKR did not). Here are the names by House (in ABC order), according to JKR (and the Lexicon), the bold ones are the ones in this part (so far):
Malone (Moon), Lila (Lil) – see Lexicon explanation below
Runcorn, Olivia – see Lexicon explanation below
Perks, Sally-Anne – see Lexicon explanation below
Roper, Sophie – see Lexicon explanation below
Rivers, Quincy – see Lexicon explanation below
Crabbe, Vincent (dead)
Spinks, Darla – see Lexicon explanation below
Unnamed and Unsorted — Moon, Perks, Rivers, Roper, Runcorn and Spinks (my comments are in parentheses-and in bold-following the Lexicon information)
That leaves six students for whom we don't have a House, and six empty House spots (two each in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, one each in Ravenclaw and Slytherin).
Moon is present at the Sorting, but we don't learn this student's name or House. The classlist shows that her first name began with the letters "Lil…," suggesting "Lillian" or "Lilith" (I don't believe JKR would give a minor character the same name as Harry's mother). This is a highly evocative name: Lilith was a Persian night-demon, and there are apocryphal but persistent legends that she was the first wife of Adam; while "Lillian" is yet another "lily" name. (I'm called her Lila Malone in another story—see Malone two paragraphs below—and sorted her into Gryffindor.)
The name "Moon" might have been intended to remind us of the moon — it could be that this character was a proto-Luna, hence axed once JKR had decided to put Luna in a different year from Harry. However, the surname didn't originally refer to the moon: it is probably a corruption of the Irish "O'Mochain," and means something like "punctual!" That would suggest an orderly, somewhat dull person, in startling contrast to her fascinating first name. Perhaps she is the prototypical quiet student whose reserve hides a wealth of imagination and inner secrets.
JKR apparently considered calling this student "Malone," which is also an Irish name and means "bald John" — the original John being bald because he was a monk. The names "Malone" and "Moon" predominate in the fair city of Dublin, suggesting that Miss Moon lives in Ireland's capital, the home of U2 and Riverdance, and the centre of fine linen and crystal. If she hasn't been distracted by Muggle sports such as Irish rugby and greyhound racing, she would support the Kenmare Kestrels.
Sally-Anne Perks cannot be in Ravenclaw, where the girls' dormitory is full. Following an intuition about how JKR named her characters, I would say she is unlikely to be in Slytherin (because "Perks" sounds too much like "Parkinson") and unlikely to be in Gryffindor (because we already have two surnames beginning with P in Gryffindor). The name "Sally-Anne" has an honest, straightforward sound that will work well in Hufflepuff. "Sally," a diminutive of "Sarah," means "princess," while "Anne," meaning "grace," was the name of JKR's mother. "Perks" is "son of Peter," and indicates a homeland in the West Midlands — let's say in the historic town of Shrewsbury in Shropshire, a good spot from which to support the Tutshill Tornados (located near JKR's childhood home in Chepstow). (Though not in my story—as of this point—I sorted her into Hufflepuff.)
Rivers, denoting a person who "lives near the river," is a name found in the south of England. After eliminating unsuitable locations, we can place this student among the apple orchards of Kent, surely the county that inspired the song about English gardens, perhaps in the famous cathedral city of Canterbury itself. Unfortunately, the name "Rivers" is too ambiguous to tell us much about the student. It might indicate a person who is elementally necessary in providing the "water of life." Alternatively, JKR's first thought for this student's name began with "Qui…," so we find ourselves thinking of Professor Quirrell, who quivers and quakes in a mock-fear that hides his lust for power. "Rivers" might also denote a weak temperament, unstable as water — a river is always moving but it cannot hold or define its own shape. (I'm calling him Quincy Rivers, because I couldn't come up with another Qui-starting name that seemed plausible, and I sorted him into Ravenclaw.)
Roper indicates a "rope-maker," a humble craftsman who performs honest labour. One wonders whether this character is supposed to be "ropable" (gullible), or whether she is a Slytherin who metaphorically holds the hangman's rope. Her first name begins with the letters "So…"; perhaps this is "Sophie," from the Greek word for "wisdom." She would live in Yorkshire, in a town such as Harrogate or Barnsley. These towns thrived on the textile and coal industries, but they underwent serious economic hardships in the 1980s when these staple industries were closed. Barnsley was even dubbed the "worst town in Britain." Miss Roper's parents may have suffered the hardships of long-term unemployment, and they certainly taught their daughter to save her pennies. (I'm calling her Sophie Roper and sorted her into Hufflepuff.)
Runcorn, meaning "wide bay," is a small town in Cheshire. Since the surname would have been given to a person who had moved away from Runcorn, but probably didn't move very far, it is not surprising that this name is found predominantly in Liverpool. This industrial and docklands city is the traditional home of working people. The stereotypical Liverpudlian is independent, almost abrasive, and has a talent for survival — it is no accident that this city produced the Beatles. (I gave her the name Olivia and sorted her into Gryffindor—though it [Gryffindor] probably doesn't fit—but she's not in this fic, at this point, so who cares, right? Note: Runcorn, Albert is the name of the man who most probably turned in Dirk Cresswell, who'd faked his family tree so as not to come under suspicion when the Ministry started persecuting Muggle-borns in Death Hallows. Cresswell got away on his way to Azkaban by stunning Auror Dawlish, but was evidently caught and killed later on. In the movie, Runcorn might have been the one who turned in Mary Elizabeth Cattermole, and he is the man that Harry Polyjuiced into. He probably wasn't a Death Eater, but did follow the lead of the Death Eaters when they took over the Ministry (probably Imperius'd). His daughter, who I'm calling Olivia, probably should have been Slytherin, but there was only one Slytherin spot available and I put Spinks there.)
Spinks. This name is found in eastern England: by a process of elimination, we can place Spinks in Lincolnshire. This county is considered something of a backwater — literally, for of course it is home to the Fens, but also metaphorically. While Lincoln has a glamorous cathedral and castle, Boston hosts a huge annual fair, Gainsborough has interesting historical connections, and the countryside is littered with R.A.F. bases, in general the pretty buildings and flat farmlands are associated with a depressed economy, a slow-paced lifestyle and a general absence of action. "Spinks" means a "chaffinch," and it was a name given to a cheerful person. Perhaps the student Spinks is even a talented singer. Let us hope he or she can combine magic, music and optimism to create his or her own stimulation. (I gave her the name Darla—and sorted her into Slytherin, because of her home, Lincolnshire, which is "home to the Fens," and because JKR considered giving Draco this last name, then changed it.)