Author's Notes: Thanks go to my beta and to all those who sent feedback about the original draft of the fic at schnoogle or on my LJ. Your help is greatly appreciated.
Gold Tinted Spectacles
Chapter 4 - More ... Simply More
The first Hogsmeade trip of the year was always a celebration for every pupil above the second year and even if Harry was feeling that his life was taking a left turn, he looked forward to it with all the rest. In an ideal world what he would have liked to do was gather up all his friends, including Draco, and drag them on a shopping trip they would never forget, but it was not an ideal world so he went to Hogsmeade with just Hermione and Ron.
As it was Harry knew something that Ron didn't and he was enjoying the anticipation of the shock that his best friend was bound to suffer. Ron, or rather 'Agent Weasley' according to his brothers, was under strict instructions from the twins to visit Zonko's and check out the competition to Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes. What Harry knew as an investor in said enterprise that Ron did not, since his brothers liked to shock their sibling, was that Fred and George had been expanding.
When the three friends walked around the corner so that they could see the joke shop Ron stopped dead. Zonko's had a large new sign that flashed garishly and announced to the world: "Zonko's - a subsidiary of Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes". Harry couldn't help himself, at the stunned expression on his friend's face he laughed.
"You knew," the redhead accused and turned on the amused Gryffindor, "and you let me prattle on about what we had to check out and everything on the way down here."
"They made me promise," Harry replied, still laughing, "and your face was priceless."
Ron looked annoyed and his face was beginning to go a lovely red. The famous Weasley temper was on the rise.
"I'm going to kill 'em," the redhead said pointedly and then stalked towards the shop leaving Hermione and Harry standing.
"Should we follow or stay here until they stop trying to hex each other?" the young woman asked pleasantly.
The still grinning youth just beamed at her and shrugged.
"Hexes in a joke shop could be bad," Harry pointed out. "Maybe we should take away Ron's wand?"
"You're the hero," Hermione commented lightly; "he's all yours."
"Coward," was the young man's response.
Despite their banter the pair trotted after their friend and entered the joke shop just in time to see Ron exiting the main area through a large oak door. There was a rather startled young woman standing behind the counter who appeared to be pointing the way.
"Don't worry," Harry said cheerfully as they moved to follow their friend, "they do this all the time. I think it's part of the brother ritual."
He did quicken his pace, however, when he heard a rather loud shout come from behind the door. Aiming for the hero code rather than chivalry, Harry turned the handle and entered first just in case any hexes were flying around, but as he looked around he couldn't see any damage. Ron was standing to one side next to the wall with his wand drawn.
"I made lists," the redhead was shouting, "I had a plan. I even colour coded the types of jokes for which Hermione laughed at me for two days, and it's all one big joke!"
"Ron," the twin nearest the door said conversationally.
"Little brother of ours," Harry thought it was George who spoke second.
"...the effort, but we couldn't..."
The way Ron's face had little white spots on his cheeks did not bode well for where the argument was going.
"I'll show you 'couldn't resist'," the redhead said vehemently and raised his wand.
Normally Harry would have let the brothers fight it out among themselves: it did not do to try and put yourself between family, but from a quick glance around he concluded that at least some of the equipment would explode if hit by the wrong spell. Hoping he wouldn't regret it Harry took a deep breath and launched himself at Ron. With surprise on his side he had his friend pinned to the wall in a couple of seconds.
"Not taking sides," the reckless Gryffindor said rapidly as Ron appeared ready to become even angrier, "but the whole place could go up."
It was probably an exaggeration, but Harry didn't think his friend was in the right frame of mind for the subtle difference. For a moment Ron glared at him, but eventually the dark haired youth felt the tension begin to flow out of the volatile young man.
Very slowly Harry relaxed and removed his hand from around Ron's wand hand and his arm from his best friend's neck. The bright red of the other Gryffindor's features was slowly fading and the avenging angel smiled sheepishly, breaking the whole apocalyptic image he had about him.
"Okay, Ron?" Harry asked as he rolled his eyes.
"Okay, Harry," Ron replied but sent his brothers another glare just for good measure.
"Ron, Ron, Ron," Fred said conversationally, "one day you are going to make a fantastically jealous husband for Hermione. You have the flying off the broomstick down to a fine art."
The jibe worked, Ron's face coloured again but this time he was far too embarrassed to be angry and Harry couldn't help but share a grin with the others in the room.
"I'll kill you later," the mortified boy muttered and looked at the floor.
Harry decided it was time to change the subject before Ron went off on one again, or melted into a puddle of goo at Hermione's feet.
"This is a fantastic lab," the bespectacled youth said brightly, pushing his glasses back up on his nose from where they had slipped in the scuffle; "much bigger than your last one."
"One of the reasons we bought the place," George launched into an explanation.
"We outgrew the one behind the other shop," Fred finished off for him, "and this came with everything in it. Old Zonko knows how to stock an inventor's dream."
When Harry looked back at Ron his friend appeared a little miffed by the whole situation, but he was also looking interested which was a good sign. The Weasley temper was renown throughout the wizarding world, but it was usually short lived.
"Didn't he object to you muscling in on his territory?" the youngest of the siblings asked curiously.
"Nah," Fred replied with a grin, "the old man has been grooming us for this since the day we started Hogwarts. We've bought the premises and the rights to sell..."
"...his inventions but he still owns the patents," George took up the explanation. "They won't run out for years so he's retired on the proceeds. The percentage he gets should keep him until the day he dies."
Hermione appeared impressed, as did Ron, and Harry had no complaints about the twins' business sense; it earned him quite a nice income as well.
"So how's the new line coming on?" the dark haired boy asked cheerfully and perched on one of the stalls in the room.
That was it: all the twins needed to launch into cheerful descriptions of their weird and wacky inventions and a few demonstrations. By the time any of the others could put a word in edgeways the clock on the wall announced that a good half an hour had passed.
"We're supposed to meet Dean and Ginny in fifteen minutes in the Three Broomsticks," Harry pointed out when Fred and George paused for breath.
"And we haven't been to Honeydukes yet," Ron stood up straight from where he was leaning on one of the benches. "We can't go anywhere else until we've been there."
George had just dived under the sink on the other side of the room to retrieve yet another project and when he looked across at them Harry thought the young inventor appeared rather crest fallen.
"Sorry, mates," Harry, as ringleader of the trio, said a little guiltily, "we have to go. You know what it's like on the first weekend."
The twins shared a glance and then they both looked at their guests and smiled broadly.
"We remember," they said together.
Sometimes Harry thought it was like watching a person and their reflection when Fred and George did that.
"If we have time we'll try and pop back this afternoon," Hermione said cheerfully as she slipped her hand into Ron's.
The young woman's boyfriend didn't even seem to notice, as if the gesture was the most normal thing in the world, which made Harry smile to himself. Hermione saw his expression and gave a little smile of her own; the young man had a suspicion that his female friend had Ron exactly where she wanted him.
"We plan..." Fred said lightly,
"...to be here until about..." George took up the account.
"...five," his twin continued cheerfully. "Then we promised mum..."
"...we'd pick her up some stuff in Diagon Alley."
Exactly why or how the twins finished each others sentences was a mystery to Harry, but he suspected these days it was habit.
"Okay," the dark haired youth acknowledged with a grin, "we'll see you if we see you."
"Bye," Ron offered as the three Hogwarts pupils gathered to leave. "Can you tell mum thanks for the new scarf?"
The unfortunate Gryffindor's scarf had disappeared somewhere between the Hogwarts Express and the castle. His mother had sent him a howler and a new one at the same time.
"Sure, Little Brother," George said with a laugh, "just don't lose that one or you'll get more than a howler next time."
"Don't worry," Ron said earnestly and looked rather horrified, "the howler was enough. You'd think I lost the crown jewels."
Before anyone could launch into a discussion about Molly's temper Harry found himself being herded towards the door by Hermione. Giving the twins a little wave the young man turned and allowed himself to be manoeuvred in the direction of the exit.
"Oi, Harry," Fred's voice caught him before he made it to the door, "we forgot, we need your signature on a couple of things."
Ron and Hermione paused as Harry stopped and turned and they appeared ready to follow him back into the lab but he stopped them.
"You go on," he said lightly, "if you don't get to Honeydukes before the third years do they'll clean out all the good stuff."
It was a well known effect of the first Hogsmeade weekend; once the third years found the sweet shop there would be nothing left for anyone else. Ron looked slightly put out again and Harry suddenly realised that he had probably said the wrong thing. Fred and George did not leave Ron out of their business dealings on purpose, except when they were playing jokes like today, but it probably seemed to their youngest brother that he was being ignored. This time, however, Hermione stepped in to the breach.
"The smell of the lab's beginning to make my nose run," the young woman said and rubbed her face for good measure. "Come on, Ron," she continued enthusiastically, "let's go and find some ice mice for Neville. I still can't believe Crookshanks stole his last one. That cat is really the limit some times."
With Hermione on side there was no arguing from Ron and she all but dragged him into the front of the shop leaving Harry to return to the twins.
"Sorry about this, Harry," George apologised brightly, "but with Bill breathing over our shoulder to make sure this is all legal we need your paw print."
They placed a couple of pieces of parchment down on the bench in front of their original investor and handed him a quill. Harry scanned both documents quickly, just to make sure they were not some new gags the twins had thought up, and then he quickly signed them. All in all it was a painless experience.
"So what's our little brother been up to so far then?" Fred asked conversationally and Harry began to realise that maybe forgetting the papers had not been so innocent.
"Nothing I'm going to tell you," the loyal Gryffindor said cheerfully but firmly. "I went along with the whole 'not telling him' joke and that's all the cooperation you're going to get."
Both twins gave him an innocent expression, which really did not suit them.
"But Harry, since we left school you're our..." Fred complained good-naturedly.
"...only source of blackmail material for little Ronnikins," George finished with a grin. "It's getting harder and harder to torture him."
"Which is what brothers are for," Fred explained in a very patient tone with his hand over his heart.
Harry put his hand to his head and made a dramatic sigh.
"What you ask would break the sacred bonds of best friends," he said with as much theatrics as the twins had used. "I couldn't possibly."
When he'd finished both Weasleys were looking at him quite surprised, but after a second Fred grinned and George looked under the bench.
"What did you do with Harry Potter?" the twin closest to him asked. "I'm sure ours didn't used to be a drama queen."
"Over the top?" the cheerful young man asked lightly. "I'm trying out new images: Hermione thinks I'm going all Firenze on her so I thought I'd see how Lockheart would fit."
The twins laughed at that and shared a look that Harry was pretty sure he'd seen Hermione use several times this term already. It felt good to just be able to mess around and it appeared that the Weasley's had noticed the change in him. That did make him ask himself how drastic the alteration actually was, and how bad he had been last year, but Harry was in too good a mood to dwell on the thoughts.
"The only things we want your autograph on are these forms," George said firmly.
"Oh, and there I was having photos printed up specially," Harry replied with an impish grin.
"Be gone foul fiend of bad taste," Fred said dramatically and the subject of his mock scorn burst out laughing.
It appeared the twins could overact beautifully as well. Harry turned to the door. He had to catch up Ron and Hermione before his hot tempered friend became paranoid.
"See you, guys," he said cheerfully and headed out.
"Bye, Harry," the pair chorused together. "Thanks for delivering our little brother into our plot," George continued.
"And, Harry," Fred added in a tone that caused the retreating Gryffindor to turn, "nice to see you back on form."
The young man gave then a warm smile, waved and then walked out of the room. He felt happy and cheerful and it hadn't been for the fact that he couldn't carry a tune he might have started whistling. As he made it into the street Harry began to consider Ron and Hermione. The continually bewildered look his best friend seemed to have every time his girlfriend kissed him jumped into the Gryffindor's mind. It occurred to the third wheel, as he cast himself, that the pair were always hanging out with him and never seemed to have time alone and Harry couldn't help thinking this was not right.
Glancing back at Zonko's he began to formulate an idea. Harry was sure the twins wouldn't mind him using them as an excuse and if Hermione and Ron thought he was talking business they would let him go off on his own, thus leaving them to do the couple thing. With a smile and a plan, he trotted down the road.
Harry wandered cheerfully into Honeydukes to find his two friends already picking up things from around the shop. Who ever said that people grow out of sweets hadn't met Albus Dumbledore or the majority of the Hogwarts seventh year. The Gryffindor joined Ron and Hermione quickly, placing a cheerful hand on his best friend's shoulder.
"Business talk all finished?" the redhead asked a little churlishly.
"It was just a couple of forms to sign, Ron, and yes, it's finished," Harry said brightly. "You're lucky you missed it -- completely boring. I have to head back a little later, something about Bill owling some papers over, but I'm sure you two can find something to do whilst I'm gone."
He gave them both a suggestive look and once again Ron forgot to be annoyed when he blushed as he glanced at Hermione. Harry found it very endearing how his friend could be openly affectionate with his girlfriend in front of anyone, but the moment someone mentioned it he went a lovely shade of red. Harry knew he was picking up bad habits from Draco: he was finding Ron far too easy to tease.
Harry sat in the Three Broomsticks with a butterbeer on the table in front of him and let his mind meander around. The thought of Ron and Hermione in Madame Puddifoot's teashop made him smile: it was nice to see his two best friends so happy and in love. Letting his mind wander over the subject brought his train of thought round to his own predicament. Harry had no doubt that he was also in love. He had told Hermione as much and he knew that he had spoken nothing but the truth.
Casting his mind back over six years the current state of affairs rather amazed the smitten youth. He was in love with Draco Malfoy; the boy he had hated for a good percentage of his life, and it felt perfectly right. It felt as if the universe had shrugged and rearranged herself into what was supposed to be, rather than what had been. This was the correct path and years of vengeful hatred were nothing but a bad memory and a mistake.
The thing was, although something in Harry's soul knew this, the logical part of his brain that most people thought didn't exist, was pointing out how completely bizarre the whole situation was. A little voice at the back of his head was going 'I know what every instinct in your body is screaming, but don't you think this is odd?', and it was. Draco Malfoy, for heaven's sake, the most vindictive, petty, bully in the school; only Harry knew that wasn't the case anymore.
The Slytherin Prince, who made it his mission in life to torment all those beneath him, was gone. A boy had gone home after the sixth year and had come back a man, his eyes open, his decisions made. Rhetoric fell from Draco's mouth now only because he played a role and Harry was one of the few people who knew what his boyfriend truly believed.
Picking up his butterbeer Harry took a swig and let the liquid swirl around his mouth a mirror of what his thoughts were doing in his head. There was no changing the truth and he silenced the small voice for the last time. The young man had not known what he wanted from Draco until their first kiss: he had not recognised the need in himself then, but he recognised what had grown from it.
It was hard to believe that is had only been two weeks since their lips had first met. Two weeks of passionate kisses and over the clothes groping. Fourteen wonderful, desire filled days that had led Harry to one inescapable conclusion -- he wanted more. The rather inexperienced youth had never been very good at relationships and physical contact; he knew this and did not try and deny it. With his two girlfriends he had never known what to do or say properly, and even with help from the long-suffering Hermione his attempts at love had both unequivocally ended. With Draco everything was different.
If he let himself admit it Harry knew why as well. Cho had been a crush, a simple infatuation with an idea rather than a real person. Harry had known there was something missing in his life and he had come to the logical conclusion that Cho could fill that spot, and backed up by teenage hormones he had gone after the fiction. It had been almost enough to scare him off girls for good.
Then there had been Briony who was the opposite of Cho, tall and blond and more into books than boys. Getting together with Harry had been something of an accident after they were paired together for a DADA project. Looking back he realised that that, in and of itself, should have given him a clue. He smiled and took another swig of his drink. At least that relationship had sort or petered out rather than ended in a public bust up. Thinking about it now it seemed obvious that Briony had been more of a need to conform to what people expected than anything else.
Every move with both of his girlfriends had been fraught with confusion and misunderstanding. Harry could see that now, but when it came to Draco it was so different. Sometimes he thought that maybe he was possessed because it felt like another person was controlling his body. Cold logical thought had no place in his actions and he moved through the relationship on instinct, following his heart at every turn, and now his heart demanded more.
Harry ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully as he considered Draco silently. His boyfriend was far more experienced when it came to sex than Harry; that much was plainly obvious. Although he often instigated the encounters Draco always ended up in the lead and the inexperienced young man knew for a fact that his boyfriend was holding off anything too heavy. Sometimes Harry thought he had 'Virgin: treat with care' tattooed on his forehead because the only time he'd tried to take things a little further than fondling through clothes, Draco had slowed the whole thing down and backed off. It was absurd but Harry felt as if his boyfriend was trying to protect him.
It was a little frustrating to say the least, but filled the needy young man with a strange warmth never the less. Draco wanted to keep him safe, so Harry knew he was going to have to show the Slytherin that safe could be a whole lot more than where they always made it to now. With his plots in mind Harry grinned to himself as he realised what he was considering: his Slytherin side had to be coming out because he was calmly planning to seduce his boyfriend. This was going to take some doing as well as some time to figure out and drinking the last of his butterbeer Harry began to formulate a strategy.
There were very few things that surprised Draco Malfoy, but, as it was turning, out Harry Potter was one of them. From the first offer of friendship up to their evening together earlier, Harry had managed to surprise the pureblood wizard at every turn. It had been a shock when Potter first offered him someone to talk to and he had dismissed the idea to begin with, but his loneliness had been too great. The Gryffindor had known exactly how he was feeling and Draco had not been able to resist that. Harry made him happy in a way he never thought he would feel again.
Draco was lying in bed looking at the canopy of his four-poster remembering an evening that he would never have guessed at. If there was one person in the school that Draco would never have put down as a seducer it was Harry, and yet that was what his boyfriend had turned out to be. Oh they'd been more than just talking partners for three weeks now, but Draco had never even considered what would come next. The carefully planned seduction had been the furthest thing from his mind, but he smiled as he remembered it.
Harry had requested that they meet somewhere warmer than their normal rendezvous near the Whomping willow and Draco had turned up at the disused girls' toilets thinking that it was a very strange place to talk. He closed his eyes and remembered what he had seen when he walked in: candles, over half the room there had been candles of all different sizes. The golden light of flame had lighted the whole place, and in the middle of it all had sat Harry Potter on a blanket set on the floor. He had smiled at Draco and the Slytherin had known that he had let his guard down and shown the other youth his true feelings.
"Like it?" the Gryffindor had said.
Draco didn't really remember what he had replied but he did know that it had made Harry laugh. The young wizard had not registered when his barbs had changed from trying to hurt The Boy Who Lived to trying to make him smile, but it had happened and it continued. Even when they had first begun to talk Draco had thought it was a phase he was going through, a moment of weakness that would leave him again, but he had found that Harry was addictive.
Draco opened his eyes again as he remembered the green gaze that had pinned him down across the room and challenged him.
"Much warmer than the alcove near the willow," Harry had said; "much more comfortable for a little snogging."
And Draco had believed him; he almost laughed at himself but bit back the sound that could alert his dorm mates. Harry Potter, pure as the driven snow - the idea that the whole evening was a seduction had never entered the victim's head. Draco Malfoy, the boy who could have any Slytherin he wanted and more besides had actually taken his boyfriend at face value. It was so ironic that it was funny, and Draco found he really didn't mind.
Oh they had lain on the blanket for a while kissing and petting with Draco taking the lead, as he seemed to do, and then the whole situation had shifted. Draco's hand slid down his bare chest as his skin tingled with the remembered touch of Harry's hand and he put his head back savouring the sensation. Kisses had followed the skilful fingers and before Draco had realised what was happening he had been half naked on the floor with Harry Potter on top of him making him groan out his pleasure.
Draco was a consummate player in the game of sex: it was a skill that his father had encouraged as much as politics and magic, but the experienced youth had been out played by his supposedly virginal companion tonight. Bashful, straightforward, Gryffindor, Harry Potter had orchestrated the seduction of overt, slippery, Slytherin, Draco Malfoy and it had been incredible.
As if he knew every secret of his boyfriend's body Harry had pulled reactions from Draco as if he was tuning a fine musical instrument. The captivated Slytherin had felt as if he was being worshipped by the other boy and he had surrendered to it more completely than he had ever given in to anything in his life.
Draco's hand drifted lower under the covers of his bed as he recalled Harry's feather light touch. The skilful Gryffindor had kissed every inch of his lover's chest and then he had gone down on him with a passion that had taken Draco's breath away. The remembering wizard's breath caught in his throat as he became hard at the memory. Harry's mouth encircling him, the delicate lips running over his body and the tongue playing at the tip of his erection; it was all so clear in Draco's mind. He had wrapped his fingers in Harry's unruly dark hair and bucked beneath his lover until his seed spilled into the other youth's throat.
The Harry Potter of tonight had been a virtual stranger: Draco had never met the passionate, completely consuming man before; he had only ever known the slightly lost, occasionally angry boy. After he had made his captive scream his name Harry had flipped Draco on his front and taken him -- there was no other way to describe it. The dominant Gryffindor had opened him gently with lubricated fingers, caressed him like a delicate virgin and entered him as if they were part of the same creature that needed to be rejoined.
Draco moved against his bed sheets feeling the slight soreness and remembering Harry inside him. His lover's caress had been insistent and demanding but oh so gentle at the same time. Draco had never had a partner so in tune with his body. It was almost as if they were made for each other. When Harry had come he had whispered Draco's name as if it was a sacred word and they had remained locked together for long seconds.
Draco remembered whimpering as Harry pulled out; not wanting the contact to end and they had lain in each other's arms for a long time. Then Harry, had looked his lover in the eye and declared his feelings in words that could not be mistaken.
"I love you, Draco Malfoy," Harry had said, "and nothing will ever change that."
That had been the strangest moment as cynical, world-weary Draco had believed his companion completely, and it had not frightened him. True love was a weakness, but then and now, as he lay in his bed the infatuatedblond youth did not care.
"You are mine," Harry had told him with a certainty in his voice that at one time would have sent the aloof Slytherin running, "make me yours."
With carefree abandon they had swapped roles then as if it was the most natural thing in the world and Draco had taken Harry the same way he had been taken. The young wizard remembered every second with crystal clear clarity and he turned his head into his pillow as a moan threatened to make it out of his throat at the passion the memory caused. His hand encircled his hard erection under the covers as he recalled the tightness of Harry surrounding him.
There had been nothing separating them, no protection spells, no crude Muggle devices and it had been the most exhilarating experience of Draco's life. Harry had surrendered to him completely as he had done to Harry and they had shared something so erotic and encompassing that it made Draco's head spin.
The Slytherin pushed the covers down his bed as he moved his hand up and down his erection lost in the recollection of Harry Potter. He should have been spent, curling on his side lost in dreams of sex, but as his mind slipped back to the meeting his body responded again. Draco remembered sliding in and out of his lover and his hand worked in time as he pushed his face further into the pillow to stifle the sounds of passion that filled his throat. He shuddered silently, his seed spilling on to his stomach as his memory and body reached climax at the same time.
It took Draco long minutes to come down from the sexual high and he lay looking at the canopy of his bed breathing hard. He had never been so consumed by a sexual encounter before and it took him time to return to reality. Moving silently he reached under his pillow and retrieved his wand from where it was hidden. With a whispered spell the physical signs of his exertions were gone and he was clean, but he lay there for a long time, awake.
Nearly seventeen years of Malfoy training down the toilet of the girl's loo: it should have been laughable or tragic, but it was neither. Draco knew without a doubt that Harry had claimed him and that he could never break that. Something deep inside him told him he had surrendered to a path that would never let him go. It was strange but somehow everything felt right with the world, and everything had never been right in Draco's universe before.
End of Chapter 4
Return to Archive | next | previous