|Fic: 'Nineteen Years Later' 1/? HP/DM NC17||[Jul. 22nd, 2007|06:57 am]|
Title - Nineteen Years Later|
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - None…yet…
Rating - NC17
Word Count - 833
Summary - The war is over, and now things can begin anew
Characters/Pairings - *snickers* who'd you think?. All right – Harry/Draco
Warnings - Highlight for warnings *Canon to DH:UK:600 Adult Language, Slash, Sex, Angst, Total Fandom Cliches and slight OOCness, because apparently that's okay*
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story
Author's Notes - Are any of you truly surprised? Oh, and the chapters will get longer *grin*
It was the same look that had crossed his face when they were bound and tied in his home. The same look that had crossed his face when, against all reasonable logic, Harry had come back for him. The look that had been perverted by a scream of terror as he clung to the Boy Who Lived-Then-Died-Then-Lived-Again and they fled the burning Room of Requirement only after Potter had salvaged a dingy tiara.
It was the look that was now trained on Harry Potter, wondering where the hell he'd gotten a kid from, and trying not to react to the jealousy inside.
Then the look morphed into shock as Harry and the kid walked towards him.
Harry had spotted Draco, and couldn't quite explain the urge. The urge to go and rescue him, the urge that made no logical sense but still existed to this day, was directing Harry's feet across the platform of nine and three quarters. "Draco…Draco Malfoy?"
Draco nodded tersely, and shook the offered hand with some surprise. "Potter."
Nodding his head, Harry couldn't resist a slight tease. "I haven't seen you for years – your hairline's receded I see?"
The pale hand yanked out of his own and flew to Draco's hairline so fast it was a panicked blur, and Harry sniggered softly as Draco realised the joke and lowered his hand, pink splotches high on his cheeks as he glared. "Oh very fucking funny."
"Sorry…with Ron being a responsible dad, I have no one to torment."
"Your son, perhaps?"
That statement evoked an unknown feeling in both men, but neither reacted to it. Harry rested his hand on Teddy's arm and smiled softly. "This is my Godson, Ted Lupin. He's undertaking a year's work experience with the new Potions Master before he applies to study for his Mastery."
"Harry, I might not get in yet…"
Turning his smile on Ted, Harry shrugged. "Then you'll do something else. Think positive, Teddy, and then if this year isn't what you want, you can think of something else."
Draco felt like an intruder, like he was stood with a family he didn't belong to. Which, he supposed, he was. As he opened his mouth to excuse himself, Harry turned back to him and questioned, "So what are you doing here? Got a wife and kids yet?"
"That a joke, Potter?"
"Wha~…I…" Harry stammered, unsure of what he'd said that was so outrageous. The look on Draco's face was no longer the intriguing, unsure-of himself one, but a look of cold, impassioned fury.
"I have accepted the position of Potions Master to help out Headmistress Parkinson."
With a snap of his robes that took Harry forcefully back to that night when the truth was told, Draco turned and boarded the Hogwarts Express, leaving Harry stuck dumb in his wake.
Finding Ron and Hermione, Harry kissed his niece goodbye and shook Ted's hand. As they stood on the platform waving them off, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione to relay the curious incident with Draco. Yet, he was cut off by the look of glee on Ron's face. "Harry, Mate, have you seen the Prophet today?"
"No, I came straight here, we both overslept. Why?"
A copy of the early edition was pushed into his hands, and Harry looked down at the paper in dawning comprehension.
Malfoy Millions Well Spent?
This reporter can confirm, dear readers, that the Malfoy fortune which our Chosen
One demanded be released to their owner for reasons which he never fully explained,
is being used for activities which would make our Saviour blush!
The Malfoy heir, Draco, has been using the gold so generously released back
to his family, to purchase a string of male prostitutes! While each one
conforms to the same basic appearance, not one has ever been asked for a return visit.
Charging up to sixty…
Groaning softly, Harry felt the blush creeping up his cheeks, and Hermione's hand on his arm. "What is it?"
"I may have just insulted Draco Malfoy."
Ron's hand clapped onto his back. "Nice one mate! Now, isn’t there a café around here? I'm starving!" Scooping Hugo up he set off in search of food, leaving Harry to walk sedately with Hermione.
"It's…are the Prophet kicking off because Draco's…gay?"
Choosing not to comment on the use of his first name, Hermione shook her head softly. "You know better than that, Harry. They're just looking for any and every excuse to rally people against the Malfoys, just like they always have. Certain reporters cannot understand that, when push came to shove, all three of them abandoned their Lord to search out each other. Unless you were there, it's hard to imagine Lucius Malfoy searching through the crowds in a panic."
Nodding solemnly, Harry crumpled up the newspaper and tossed it in the bin before they left the platform. He was really screwed if the Prophet found out what he was spending the collective Black and Potter fortunes on.