Title: Knight in Shining…Panel?
Author: Makoto Sagara
Series: Harry Potter
Archive: The usual suspects; anywhere else, please ask first.
Category: drabble, pre-slash
Characters/Pairing: Draco/Harry pre-slash, Harry/Ginny
Warnings: slash, angst, language, ooc, EWE, post-Hogwarts
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money made from this piece of fanfiction.
Prompt: Fandom: Harry Potter; Draco/Harry, Knight Bus. Run with it :)
Summary: Harry finds that taking a trip comes with a price, one that he may not be ready to pay.
Author's Note: So, I posted a request on livejournal to jumpstart the creative juices after working so much. This was requested by my lovely new LJ friend, hidinginmybones. (Special thanks to Ileryo for Brit-picking this!)
When Harry had decided to leave Ginny—well, that is to say, when she tearfully told him that she had fallen in love with Neville because Harry was never at home anymore due to his heavy case load as an Auror and that she wanted to separate—he'd let her have the flat they'd been sharing for the last two years and told her he'd find a new place and that she was not to worry. Their conversation, the last as a couple, had taken all night and it had been after two in the morning when he finally decided it was time to wrap things up and go. He found he was too tired to Apparate to the Leaky and the Floo to Ron and Hermione's house was more than likely shut down for the evening, since little Rose was probably asleep. So, left with very few choices, Harry decided that he'd pack his things and take the Knight Bus for the trip from Newcastle to London.
He figured that he'd be comfortable and possibly get some sleep before he had to try and convince old Tom to give him a room for the night, at least. When the doors to the purple monstrosity opened and good old Stan Shunpike greeted him with a wide, inviting smile, Harry knew he'd made the right decision. The blond man was just as pimply as Harry remembered him from when he was thirteen and just as jovial. He was ushered to the top level of the bus like royalty after giving the driver his destination.
"There ain't too many what hang about up here at this time o' night," Stan whispered excitedly as he led Harry to a rather comfy looking four-poster bed. The gold and scarlet hangings brought back memories of the years the former hero had spent in Gryffindor tower. "At least it'll be quiet for ya, peaceful like."
"Thanks, Stan," Harry replied, patting the older man's arm amiably as he settled down onto the bed's soft, feather mattress. He could hear the conductor's footsteps as they walked away before the bus lurched forward to begin its breakneck journey throughout the countryside that would eventually end in London.
"Well, well, well, how the mighty have fallen," a familiar, snide voice drawled from one of the other beds. Without looking, Harry knew that the world's most annoying git was glaring at him, his obnoxiously pointy face twisted in a sneer that Harry would more than likely want to punch off of it.
It didn't matter that Harry had spoken up for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy during the Death Eater trials after the war. The two blonds had been saved from Azkaban, but not Lucius, even though Harry had tried to speak up for the bastard. The Wizengamot and the Wizarding public both felt that despite what Lucius had 'suffered' at the hands of Lord Voldemort during the time Lucius kept him in his home, it wasn't enough. No longer were the cries of being victim of the Imperius curse being heeded to.
In the end, Draco and Narcissa had been allowed to keep half of the Malfoy fortunes and the Manor, while the rest was seized by the Ministry in reparations. Draco had yet to forgive Harry.
"And what did you do that the beautiful and demure Weaslette has kicked you from your own home, Potter?" Malfoy asked with mock sincerity. "I'm sure that it was absolutely horrendous for the love of your life to be rid of you."
"I see that you're as annoying as ever, Malfoy," Harry said tiredly, knowing now that sleep would be too much to ask with the annoying blond so close at hand.
"Ah, you don't have to be like that, Potter," Malfoy replied, moving from the comfortable plush chair he'd been situated in at the back of the second level to the bed next to Harry's. "I'm only trying to be cordial."
"I can do without your brand of cordiality, Malfoy. My day's been long enough without you making it worse."
"Now, see, Potter, that is where you're wrong," the blond purred, leaning closer into the open space between the beds. "We've always been rather…connected, as the case may be. What you need is someone who…understands you."
Before Harry could respond, the blond had grabbed him by the ears into a kiss that made his blood sing and his heart race.
Harry sat straight up in his bed, sweat pouring down his bare chest and face, taking great gasps of air to stop the panic induced by his nightmare. It was just a dream, he thought happily, smiling down at the sleeping form of Ginny, who shifted closer to him and grumbled about being chilly. It was just a dream…