Title: Wooing the Reluctant
Author: Makoto Sagara
Series: Harry Potter
Archive: the usual suspects (ffnet, affnet, Foreverfandom, my site, mediaminer, my update LJ, the thehexfiles, hpfandom, and the harrydraco community on LJ ); anywhere else, please ask first.
Pairing: Draco/Harry, past Harry+others, past Draco/others
Warnings: Slash, ooc, angst, language. humor
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter and his friends. They belong to a list of people, including the wonderful JKR, Warner Bros, Scholastic Publishing, Raincoat Books, and others. I'm only borrowing them for entertainment purposes. All sexual scenes are between those who are of age to consent.
Author's Notes: I was looking over the Draco-Tops-Harry 2012 Fest prompts on the LJ community of the same name. Sadly, I write too slow to contribute, but some of the prompts were just too good to pass up. This is the prompt from one of my favorite authors, Lomonaaeren: #45 – Harry is in his twenties and still a virgin, because he doesn't feel much of anything for either sex and is wary about whom he dates thanks to the gossip. Cue Draco doing something different and interesting to attract Harry's attention. This looks to be humorous and with short-ish chapters, somewhere around twelve in total, but I could be wrong.
Chapter One – Read All Interesting News Sources -
Nothing is too out there when beginning a courtship.
When Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, contacted him about a small story to run in the Quibbler, Harry took a moment to think about it. The celebration for his twenty-first birthday was coming up and he just wanted to ignore everything, but he wasn't going to get his wish. Besides, he was still wary about talking to Mr. Lovegood since the end of the war. However, he ended up doing it, mainly because Luna also asked him personally.
So, in The Quibbler's July issue, Harry Potter spoke to a member of the press for the first time in three years.
Here is an excerpt from that article:
Xenophilius Lovegood: Well, Mister Potter, how have you been?
Harry Potter: Please, Mister Lovegood, call me Harry. And I've been doing reasonably well.
XL: Are you looking forward to your twenty-first birthday? I understand that there's going to be a huge celebration party given by the Ministry for the occasion. Are you looking forward to it?
HP: Hardly. I'd prefer a small party with my close friends attending, truthfully.
XL: I heard that you're good friends with Minister Shacklebolt and Deputy Minister Weasley. Is that true?
HP: Yes, that's true. I thought that was common knowledge by now.
XL: So it is. Is that part of the reason why you're attending the celebration?
HP: Well, yeah, I guess.
XL: Now, here's the question that everyone wants to know: Who will you be taking with you?
HP: Oh, I'll be going stag. I'm not seeing anyone right now, so I'm not rushing out to find a date.
XL: Really? Well, any person would be delighted to escort you, I'm sure.
HP: Oh, I'm sure they would, but none of them have a single clue as to who I really am.
Draco sat up as a beautiful tawny owl flew into the open window of his room at Malfoy Manor. It was after eleven in the morning, and he was trying to remember what he'd done the night before. He remembered going out with Pansy, Blaise and Greg to some new club in the new part of young Wizarding London. There'd been many drinks and some attractive people, and Draco was fairly sure that he'd fucked a lovely brunette in the bathroom and gone into a back room with a sexy blond man with the greenest eyes he'd seen on anyone but Potter. However, he was alone when he woke up, the way he liked it.
The owl screeched and he lifted up a long, lean, and pale arm to accept the creature. "Well, Radcliff, I see Pans wasted no time in sending you out this morning," he drawled around a yawn. "And what do you have there, old boy?"
Draco removed a magazine, the disgusting Quibbler of all things with Potter's face on it, and a letter in Pansy Parkinson's flowing script. He ignored the magazine for a moment and turned to the letter to find out why the woman thought he'd even touch the bloody thing. "Dearest," it began. Pansy was always calling him and the others stupid pet names. "Normally, I would have just laughed at this as you know I do, but I thought the article with Potter was interesting. The first part is rather boring, of course, but read the last page. Very informative conversation the lunatic is having with dear wee Potter. ~ Pansy. P.S. Fire-call me when you're finished."
"What could be so bloody interesting that I have to read this rubbish?" Draco asked as he opened the periodical to the appropriate page. After a few seconds of scanning the words, he found out and began laughing.
His mother had just two days previously told him that he was spending too much time with leisure and not enough time doing things that would benefit the tarnished family name. This, this would be an absolute challenge, and if it succeeded, well, the family name would be pulled from out of dirt and back into the shining sphere of the Wizarding world's adoration. Now, how to plot this out?
"Pansy, I could not think as to why you would bother sending that tripe to me until I actually read the entire article," Draco said to his friend's green features in his fireplace.
"I knew you'd love it, Dearest," she simpered, using a hand to fluff her straight-as-a-pin brown hair. "Who would have thought that our great Saviour wasn't dating anyone? And for such a seriously pathetic reason."
"No, it's not pathetic, Pans. Think about how we twisted the press while we were at Hogwarts," Draco replied thoughtfully. "Rita Skeeter, that wretched beetle, is still writing article after article of speculation about who Potter takes home, and of course, there's the lawsuit that the Weasels took out against the Prophet for slander."
"You'd think Ginevra Weasley would be excited to still have her name attached to Harry Potter," Pansy said with a snort. "Better than that boring Oliver Wood."
"No, Wood is a having a good run with the Chudley Cannons as the best Keeper they've had in ages, from what I've heard, and she's enjoying her stint with the Holyhead Harpies as Seeker. They're the picture perfect Quidditch couple."
"Too bad neither team can win a game."
"Oh, I agree," Draco sneered before turning pensive again. "Do you know what Potter is doing for a living? I would have thought he'd apply to be an Auror right after the war. They would have given it to him, no doubt."
"Oh, they did, but he turned them down, according to Padma Patil."
"You still talk to her then?"
"Of course, Draco. I never relinquish my sources." She gave a giggle that sent a shudder through Draco's barely dressed body. He hated her laugh. "But, she says that Granger said Potter was going to a Muggle university. He wants to be a Mind Healer or some such rot."
"An admirable goal, I suppose. Who's the last person Potter was seen with?"
"Actually seen with or rumored? There's a difference."
"Actually seen with, Pans. I have no time for rumors."
"I suppose when he dated Lavender Brown three months ago… No, wait; he was seeing an immigrant from France. Now, what was his name? Jacques? No, Pierre… Pierre Mortmont."
"What did he look like?"
"Tall, blond, green eyes, very nicely muscled, delicious mouth… I think I dated him a few times last month. Of course, you let him suck your cock last night at Shack."
"Oh, yes, extremely delicious mouth then. But dumb as a box of rocks." Draco scrunched up his nose. "He wanted me to go home with him." Pansy laughed and shook her head.
"Good thing you passed on that, Dearest. After Potter refused to sleep with him, he told everyone in the circuit that he was the worst lay he'd ever had."
"I wonder about that, Pans. It's hard to decide between cases of he said/he said, but I'm thinking Potter is the more reliable source."
"Of course, that has nothing to do with the enormous hard-on you have for him every time his picture appears in the paper."
"Get bent," Draco snapped.
"Dearest, that is your job, but I'm willing to help you win over your little crush," Pansy said with a predatory smile.
"I know you are, but what will your help cost me?"
"Oh, not much…"
After his Fire-call with his best friend, Draco took off his robe and took a good look at his nude form. His hair was still sexily mussed from bed. His skin was practically flawless, if one could forget the crisscrossing scars on his chest – a gift from Potter in their sixth year for trying to use the Cruciatus on the other boy – and the ugly, fading Dark Mark on his left arm. He'd retained his Seeker's build by playing pickup Quidditch games with his friends on the weekends – he was still good enough that scouts came to the pickup games to ask him to join a professional team. And, then there was his greatest feature, in his own humble opinion. His cock was half-hard from just the excitement of putting together a plan to woo Potter, the red crown peeking out from his foreskin and the shaft getting decidedly more noticeable under his scrutiny.
Oh, yes, he was going to win over Potter. There was no other option. And then the Boy Who Lived was going to offer himself to Draco willingly.
That last thought was enough to make his erection complete, and he decided that noon wasn't too early for a wank in the shower.