Log: Completed

[veiled-faith.livejournal.com]

When; August 6 - Handcuff Day
Rating; PG?
Characters; Harry Potter boy_whoscored and Draco Malfoy veiled_faith
Summary; Handcuffs. Reading. Bonding. But none of this ever happened. ♥
Log;




Harry; How long had it been since they had stopped talking? A while now, and the silence was really starting to bug Harry. That morning he had woken up in some strange apartment in someone else’s bed, Draco’s his mind supplied, handcuffed to Draco Malfoy. This definitely had to be the weirdest experience Harry had been in. Ever. They had spent the entire morning arguing over this and that, stupid things mostly, just for the sake of being angry with each other. Then came the silence.
Mostly they had just sat there, doing nothing since there was nothing one could really do while handcuffed. Harry ended up starring at the wall, the floor, the ceiling, the furniture. He was becoming bored, and rather rapidly.
“I’m bored.” Not the most intelligent thing to say by far, but it made the silence go away for the two seconds it took him to say it.

Draco; Draco was ignoring Harry.

Or, as much as one could ignore someone handcuffed to their left wrist. Which had also been something Potter had complained about, the fact that his wand hand had been the one locked up. Of course, Draco wasn't above rubbing the fact of the matter in. Of course, Potter wasn't resourceful- at least when it came to menial things- and so while he was sitting and staring like a dumb one, Draco had taken to reading.

And now he was talking again. Draco sighed and turned a page of his book. Loudly.

Harry; Harry looked at Draco out of the corner of his eye, hoping for some reaction. Anything, really, even if it was a snarl, as long as noise was involved. Turning a page in a book did not count.
“What’re you reading?” He was genuinely interested, which was weird, he guessed. Why would he be interested in what Malfoy was reading? He blamed the boredom. Waiting for an answer, Harry sighed and fell backwards, laying on the bed, starring up at the ceiling again, hoping maybe now it would be a little more entertaining, though he highly doubted it.

Draco;It wasn't even the question that wrenched Draco away from his book. He couldn't really say that it brought his attention back- his attention never really was that far off of Potter- but he did turn around to throw the boy a dirty look when his flopping back on Draco's bed and wrenching his left arm a little.

"Why? Its not as though you read," He sneered, derogatory as always.

Harry; Tossing a not-so-heartfelt glare in Draco’s direction, Harry pushed himself up a bit, leaning back on the arm that was not handcuffed, “I read. Just not all the time.”
He flopped back again. What the hell did one say to start an actually conversation with the boy you’ve spent the last six years hating? Harry really had no idea what to do in this situation.

Draco; Draco stared at him hard for a moment longer before turning back to his book. And then, to his own surprise, after a moment's silence said: "Ivanhoe."

Of course he had no idea why he said it. It would only be a few more hours and this curse would be over. Just a few more hours of ignoring Potter- and so why did he have to go and humor him like this? Of course- his mind supplied helpfully- because then you know his attention is on you. Draco flipped a page of his book loudly again, as if telling the voice to shut the hell up.

Harry; Turning onto his side, Harry regarded Draco silently for a moment. Ivanhoe? Harry hadn’t heard of him. “Who’s that?” No one ever said Harry kept his thoughts to himself. He continued to watch Draco, not really sure why, just- wanted to? There was something about the other boy that kept Harry’s eyes on his profile. His eyes trailed down to their handcuffed wrists, looking at how close their hands were. All it would take was a slight shift and they would be touching.
Wait a minute. What?

Draco; Mostly, Draco was all but oblivious to the other boy's thoughts, and he glance sideways at the Boy Who Lived sideways when he pressed again. He had no doubts that the Granger girl would know that Ivanhoe was written by a muggle, and really, telling Harry here might jeopordize that cool shield he had put up. And really, were they back home, and it was still a war going on, and distance from everybody but his own family was the only thing that mattered, Draco might not have done what he did next.

Instead of explaining it, he snapped the book shut and held it out to Harry. "You can read the back yourself. I am not going to sit here and read to you like this is a bed time story." There wasn't as much venom in his voice as there usually was.

Harry; Harry looked shocked for a moment, mostly at the lack of anger in the boy’s voice. Had Malfoy ever spoken to him with anything but venom or amusement at Harry’s misery? Reading the synopsis of the book, Harry thought that he probably wouldn’t of found it interesting, though the author’s name did sound vaguely familiar. Didn’t Aunt Petunia have books written by him? Why was Malfoy reading books by a muggle? It didn’t make much sense.
“Would you?” His voice was softer now, “Read to me, I mean, if I asked you to?”

Draco; Draco looked at him strangely and held out his hand, a silent request for Harry to hand the book back to him.

"Why would I do that?" He asked, yet once again it held less antagonism than it should, and sounded more curious as to why in the name of Circe Harry Potter would ask him such a peculiar question. Then, defensive and uncomfortable, he snapped his fingers softly, a gesture for Harry to hurry and give the book back, "I'm not your personal servant and, or, entertainer."

Harry; Shrugging as he handed the book back, he spoke, his voice still soft, “I don’t know,” Harry felt vulnerable now, more exposed than ever. Why the hell had he said that? “Nevermind then.”
Harry shifted, turning away from Draco, or at least, as much as he could with them being handcuffed. Closing his eyes, a heavy sigh left him. God, what the hell was wrong with him today? Maybe it was a side affect of the curse. Yeah, that’s it. He didn’t really believe it.

Draco; He all but snatched the book away from him, but he didn't open the book again. Just fingering the edge of it. This is what happened when Harry opened his mouth, when he pried. It was so annoying, how he always managed to bollocks everything- even something so simple as reading- up. Once again he fell into silence, until the silence was pregnant and almost uncomfortable, and then he muttered: '...Stop moping.'

Harry: “I’m not moping,” He was moping, though he would never admit that to Malfoy of all people. Not opening his eyes, Harry turning more onto his back. An awkward silence fell between the two boys. Now what? Harry had probably ruined any chance of actually having a decent conversation, and they still had what? Hours? To go until the clock struck midnight and he was able to return back to Dumbledore’s apartment.

Draco; "You're a terrible liar," Came the response, quietly, not long after the silence had fallen. And strangely, Draco wasn't looking at him. And even an idiot would be able to tell that this conclusion had not been drawn in the moments just passed. Draco could recognize Potter blindfolded in a dark room, he was so attuned to the boy he could hear his mood changes. Even the not-so-obvious ones.

Harry; It was weird, like the way Draco always noticed his mood change, Harry always knew when Draco was looking at him. It was like the pale boy had his own brand of heat in his gaze. Though the weirder part about the whole thing was that when Draco wasn’t looking at Harry, he didn’t like it.
“Whatever.” He lazily tugged the handcuffed hand, hoping that it would get Draco’s gaze back onto him.

Draco; It had the desired effect, and his fingers stilled their fidgeting on the cover of the book, silver eyes dropping sideways to fall on the metal link between them. It was almost poetic irony, and wouldn't his father- wouldn't the Dark Lord love it if they knew? Here he was. Locked to the very thing the Death Eaters were after, the very thing the Dark Lord went aballistic over almost constantly. How easy it would be to alert that evil creature and turn the boy over.

Draco had decided long ago that he would never do such a thing. He was silent, staring at Harry's hand. He had no doubts they were rough from battle and Quidditch-- and that was definitely not something he should be thinking. Especially right now.

Harry; That heat was back. His fingers flexed, hand opening and closing into a fist a few times before staying still. What was Draco thinking? And since when had Malfoy become Draco? Opening his eyes, Harry turned his head to look at their handcuffed hands again. This all kind of felt- cliched almost. Bitter enemies handcuffed together, alone in a room.

Draco; It was peculiar, the way the silence between them had shifted from something charged and almost hostile to this-- simple quiet. This didn't happen, ever. Draco didn't have 'amiable silences' with anyone. Even the quiet at the Manor didn't reach this level of ease. Particularly as of late- as in the last six years. The Slytherin sighed quietly- thinking of his family, of the war back home made him sick to his stomach. And even though the Dark Lord was here in the City- he still had no idea what the outcome of the war had been. What had happened to anyone. Who had survived.

And it was impossible to escape, wasn't it? Because even here- even in this City so far from London-- he was still trapped by He Who Must Not Be Named. The only Death Eater, and it made his blood run cold with the thought of what the man would make him do.

Harry; The sigh from Draco finally made Harry open his eyes. He looked up at the other boy, who, he noticed, was looking down at their hands. Slowly, Harry shifted, pushing himself up and moving a little closer to Draco, the handcuffed hand shifting as well, so now that the tips of their fingers touched.
“Draco-?” What had possessed Harry to use the blonde’s first name, he did not know. In the past who knows how many minutes, something had seemed to shift between the two of them. It was weird, but Harry liked it.

Draco; Draco visible started at the use of his first name- it was a rare thing, after all. His parents used it, and Snape, and a few of his friends (and the Dark Lord, his mind unhelpfully supplied)- and silver eyes snapped quickly to Harry's face, flickering like a man hunted for a moment. Pale fingers twitched against Harry's, but he didn't pull away.

Harry; Harry would not be surprised at all if Draco ended up yelling at him. They’ve never gotten along in the just over six years they’ve known each other, never really showed that they even really cared about what happened to each other.
“Are you- what’s- wrong?” This was so beyond awkward, but at the same time, not so much really. He shifted his hand again, the touch against Draco’s more firm.

Draco; His smirk was humorless this time, entirely void of amusement.

"That is a loaded question," He replied quietly, and surprised himself by not throwing up every defense in his arson to shove Harry out. He was getting far too close for his liking, and this was dangerous. Dangerous because, while he was an Occlumens and could keep the Dark Lord out, if he found out he was any closer to one Harry Potter, it would jeopordize them both. Dumbledore, Tia Dalma, or not.

Harry; A flicker of sadness crossed Harry’s eyes as he looked down. He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but felt that he needed to do it, to actually talk to the other boy, to carry on a conversation that had nothing to do with one’s heritage or snide remarks and petty names. “You just- seem sad. More so than usual.”

Draco; "You think so?" He asked, voice equally quiet. More so than usual? Draco didn't think he had. But, then again, it was selfish to want the Boy Who Lived to notice everything, if not say anything. He was supposed to be saving Wizard and Mugglekind, after all. On in the scheme of things? Draco was, really, just a pawn of the Dark Lord.

Harry; “Yeah.” Taking a chance, Harry lifted his hand and covered Draco’s with it, hoping that the other boy would not pull away. His voice turned to a whisper. “I- I don’t like it.”
Draco shouldn’t be sad, Draco was supposed to be a self-righteous, king of the world, absolute git. No this- sullen creature before him. Though- yeah, Draco could be quiet and reflective. Harry has seen him in the library, studying. But this- This was different. Like Draco was missing something, and Harry wanted to give that something back to him.

Draco: Once again his hand twitched underneath Harry's. Draco wasn't familiar with touch, not soft ones like this. Even his own mother had a somewhat calculated way of going about things, and he couldn't remember the last time his father had hugged him. It was really, only since coming to this City, and really only Tia Dalma, who did things like this. Silver eyes dropped to his hand, to avoid those piercing green eyes.

"Well. There are a lot of things we don't like in life, aren't there," It wasn't a question. It was a weary statement.

Harry; Eyes shifted down to their hands once again at the twitch of Draco’s. Harry couldn’t seem to stop looking at them now. The pale skin of Draco’s underneath the golden tan of his own. His fingers curled around Draco’s, almost involuntary, lacing through them to touch the boy’s palm. It felt- good.
“And what is it you don’t like?” He didn’t look up to see the reaction cross Draco’s face, merely kept his eyes on their now entwined hands.

Draco; He was holding hands with Harry Potter. It was so absurd, that he might have laughed, and mentally he did- though it was a little more hysterical than it should have been. And wasn't it ironic that Harry had reached out this time to lock hands, despite rejecting him in first year?

"You would not believe me if I told you," The pale boy replied. After all, he was a Malfoy, he thought sarcastically, and they were wicked through and through, weren't they?

Harry; “Try me.” The quiet hadn’t left his voice, but there was a slight edge to it now, as if challenging the boy. He knew that Draco couldn’t resist a challenge, never has been and probably never will. His eyes flicked up to Draco’s face for a brief moment, hesitant, almost scared that the eye contact would break the moment, make them realize that this is Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter and what the fuck were they doing?

Draco; Draco Malfoy was not brave. He never had been, and he doubted he ever really wouldn't be. And where he felt those green eyes flash up to his face, Draco didn't dare pull his own gaze from their interlocked hands. He was on the verge of actually being honest with this boy, in this strange world, for the first time-- okay second-- time in his life, and he was already freezing up.

"Things- are not always as they appear," He said very slowly, and even as he said it he became hyper aware of the grotesque tattoo on his forearm.

Harry; Harry closed his eyes again, reaching up his free hand to rub at this forehead. “You could- tell me?” Sometimes he swore that Malfoy was difficult, just so as to make Harry miserable. He wouldn’t let go of Draco’s hand though. “I could help you.”

Draco; Draco didn't have to look to know he was rubbing his scar, it was habit, the boy was sure. He had no doubt that anytime Harry had a headache, he reached to do exactly that. Still, he smiled humorlessly at the offer, and actually gave a dry chuckle. "No, Harry Potter, Despite the Boy Wonder you are, this-- is out of your hands." There was no venom in his voice though, and finally silver eyes lifted to look him in the face. "You can't save everyone."

Harry; His grip of Draco’s hand tightened a fraction. “I can try.”
Some people might say that Harry Potter had a hero complex, and they would probably be right. But he only ever wanted to save those that were close to him, and despite the fact that Draco was supposed to be his enemy, on the side of dark, Harry didn’t believe that. He wanted to save Draco, and he would try. Whether Draco wanted it or not.

Draco; It was the type of response Draco had expected, and really, Harry was probably the most stubborn git he knew- so instead of fighting it, he just sighed heavily and shook his head and looked at Harry quietly. "I could turn you into Him right now, you know." He said quietly, and it was the truth. The Slytherin wouldn't do it-- but it was the truth.

Harry; Draco was probably just as stubborn as Harry, hence why all the fighting going on between the two. At the sigh, Harry turned and looked at Draco, their eyes meeting and holding for probably the first time that day. It was true, Draco could have given him to Voldemort at any point that day, but he hadn’t, so why would he now? “You won’t. I know you won’t.”

Draco; And if Draco had ever tried to reach out to someone- he supposed it would probably be in that moment. Because for all his backwards commentary and almost-reverse-psychology, Harry had just said what Draco's problem was. Silver didn't move from green at all as Draco said, very clearly: "Precisely."

Harry; Harry paused at that. Not moving, not even really thinking, just looking into Draco’s eyes, seeing. Harry had no idea whatsoever why he did what he did next. It was as if something had taken over his body, or maybe acting on instinct. He had no idea, all he knew was that he did it, and there was no going back. Eyelids fell almost shut as Harry looked down at Draco’s lips before leaning in and pressing own against them, softly, hesitantly.

Draco; He knew it was coming. How could he not? The way his eyes dropped and his whole demeanor changed, and why he didn't pull away, or hit him, and say something scathing- Draco decided it was a moment of weakness. Draco didn't get close to people. Even Pansy Parkinson, for all she looked like his girlfriend, barely knew anything about him. He went still as Harry's mouth touched his own. After all, it was only this once, and it wasn't as though he was going to tell anyone. Wasn't as though he would let the Dark Lord know he may have possibly had a soft spot for Saint Potter. Come morning, it would be easy to pretend none of this had ever happened.

So he leaned into Harry, pressed back against his lips.

Harry; His grip on Draco’s hand tightened in time with Harry’s deepening of the kiss. He parted his lips, tongue gently liking Draco’s bottom lip. Harry’s free hand came up, almost as if on it’s own accord, and buried itself into the blonde almost silver strands of Draco’s hair, gripping them lightly. This kiss- was different, from every other one Harry had had. Not so much because Draco was a boy, Harry had kissed boys before, no, this one was just- different. There wasn’t much of an explanation for it. Harry broke the kiss only for a moment to inhale Draco’s scent along with air before his lips were once again pressed against Draco’s.

Draco; To let anyone close was dangerous. Draco knew this better than almost anyone. His parents, even, the Dark Lord used against him. Draco was careful not to make any friends outside of of Death Eater children. Even in this city, he was selective of who he spoke with continuously. Tia Dalma was dangerous, she could keep him safe. DS was a good wizard. In fact the most dangerous was Cedric, who despite having died during the war, hew knew the Dark Lord wouldn't be above using if he knew Draco spoke to him on friendly terms. And cavorting with Harry Potter? Truth be told it was worse for Harry, hero that he was, if he got close to Draco.

His only comfort was that he had every confidance that, if it came down to it, he could drive Harry away. He could drive Cedric away, if necessary. He should have stopped the kiss when Harry pulled back for air, but he was selfish for this one moment, and even if he could never have this again- at least he could have this to remember. His mouth sofftened, and he opened to Harry when he pressed in again.

Harry; Neither of them noticed when the clock struck midnight, or the handcuffs disappeared from their wrists, too distracted. Harry let the kiss continue for another few moments, amazed at how soft Draco’s lips were. The taste of him was rather intoxicating.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was coming fast. He merely looked at Draco, moving the hand that was in his hair to caress his cheek, not really knowing what to say, so he simply kept eye contact, waiting for Draco to make the next move.

Draco; Draco's eyes remained closed when Harry finally pulled back. He hadn't reached for Harry during the kiss, but hadn't pulled away from where their hands were joined. He was breathing soft and low, hyperaware of the other boy, and the fact the handcuffs were gone-- and also aware that the quaffle was in his court. Still, he didn't move for a long, long moment. Just- letting the silence fall, not pulling away, not moving closer.

Harry; Harry continued to look at him for that long moment, realizing that the handcuffs were off without looking down. He waited- but nothing came. Loosening his grip on Draco’s hand, he started to move back, slowly though. He wouldn’t fully release Draco’s hand until the last possible second.
“I- I should go.”

Draco; Grey eyes opened slowly to look at Harry as he pulled back, and they were darker than they had been when the kiss had begun. Selfishly, he wanted to tell Harry no, he shouldn't go. He should stay. But it was rare, nowadays, for Draco to do anything that he wanted. So he exhales slowly, gaze unwavering and said quietly: "Yeah."

Harry; A flicker of sadness entered Harry’s eyes. He had hoped that Draco would ask him to stay, but really, he knew he couldn’t. With Voldemort and everything going on. And- Cedric. Oh God. The realization of what Harry had just done hit him. Turning away from Draco, he spoke.
“Right, well. I’ll- bye.” He let go of Draco’s hand, letting it fall, and made his way over to the door.

Draco; Draco didn't move, letting his hand fall where it did when Harry let him go. He blinked slowly as the bed shifted and Harry went to the door, and when he opened his eyes again, was staring at the wall.

"Potter." It was quiet, but it was a demand for his attention before he left the room.

Harry; The only acknowledgement Harry gave to Draco’s voice was a pause with his hand on the doorknob, and a slight turn of his head towards the blonde boy. He didn’t speak, didn’t really trust himself to, not know what he would say right now. Everything felt so right and wrong and weird and normal all at the same time and it was just- Harry needed fresh air.

Draco; "It didn't mean anything," He said softly. Which- in a way- was the truth. And he had a feeling it might hurt the other boy to hear- but for both their sakes, it was a necessary evil. "So don't worry about it."

Harry; Harry felt something stab him at those words. There was nothing for him to say now. He opened the door and left as quickly as he could, trying hard not to look back.