Draco and Harry: Escorts

Chapter Five

Harry hopped off his broom in front of Malfoy Manor and stared in amazement. The façade of the mansion was nearly complete. The colonnades were gleaming white and the curving marble steps led to the stately, finished portico.

It had only been five days since Draco had left London. How had he done it? Why he had done it was more obvious, judging by the expressions on the faces of Ron and Hermione. They had never been to Draco's home, not even during the war, and it was a beautiful sight. Malfoy had even installed rose bushes and they bloomed in profusions of color along the front of the house.

"He lives here alone?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded, although he had also wondered if the Malfoys had ever been a large family. The place would have been huge for only Draco and his parents and Harry had wondered what it would be like to grow up in such an excess of emptiness.

Harry knocked politely on the door, even though he could probably have simply walked in. They waited only a few moments before the portal was flung open to disclose Draco's handsome visage. Malfoy looked as cool and beautiful as a portrait and a smile curved his perfect lips when his eyes met Harry's. It wasn't until that moment that Harry realized just how difficult the past few days had been. He wanted to leap on Draco like a crazed animal and kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

Draco's smile widened as if he sensed Harry's thoughts--which he probably did. Malfoy stood aside and gestured at the front hall expansively.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," he said smoothly.

Harry walked inside and was fairly stunned at the changes. The front hall was finished and gleamed with highly polished blonde wood. A sparkling multi-faceted chandelier hung over their heads and a patterned rug--Persian, most likely--muffled their footsteps. The walls were complete and now concealed both parlour and dining room.
"I'm sure Granger would love to see the library first hand," Draco said.

"Weasley," Ron corrected, but Malfoy ignored him as he walked down the hall. The parlour door was shut, as was the door to the drawing room where Harry had bound Draco to a pillar. Harry assumed neither room was finished and hoped Malfoy had at least gotten a bit of rest in the past few days.

The library had been nearly completed before they had left for London and now it looked much as it must have in the heyday of Malfoy residence. Books now lined the mahogany shelves and the room was furnished with desks, chairs, and sofas. Crystal oil lamps rested on the tables along with expensive vases filled with fresh flowers.

Hermione fairly gasped with pleasure when she viewed the leather-bound volumes.

"I moved most of my father's collection up here," Draco said. "Make yourselves comfortable, Weasleys. I'll get us some tea." His voice was gracious enough, but for a slight stressing of the name.

"I'll help you," Harry offered casually, trying to control his excitement over the idea of having a moment alone with Draco. He accompanied Malfoy out and grinned at him in amazement as they strolled down the long hallway. "How did you do this? It's incredible."

Draco smiled wanly. "I don't think I slept much." Harry's gaze sharpened and he could sense more than see a bone-deep weariness surrounding his friend. Harry scowled.

"Did you really need to half kill yourself just to impress Ron and Hermione?"

Draco merely chuckled. By then they had reached the kitchen and the moment they were inside the confines of the room, Draco turned and locked his lips onto Harry's. They devoured each other in a frenzy of denied passion. Harry lost himself in the taste and feel of Draco--it seemed like they had been apart for weeks. Harry could not have broken the kiss if his life depended on it, but Draco's lips finally left his to slide wetly across his cheek and then Malfoy buried his face in Harry's neck before planting soft kisses there.

"Missed you," Draco murmured, holding Harry like a lifeline. Harry groaned in agreement and raked his hands through Malfoy's so-soft hair.

Draco released Harry and stepped back with a tired grin.

"I'd better get your silly friends some tea before they come looking for us."

"I'll do it. You sit down," Harry said. "You look exhausted." Of course, that was a lie; Malfoy looked as cool and alert as ever, but for a slight dark hollowness under his silver eyes. He gave evidence of his weariness by sinking into a chair without protest. Harry prepared the tea. When he finished, he brushed a hand under the hair that draped over Malfoy's forehead.

"Look, why don't you go to bed? I'll take care of the Weasleys and bring you some dinner," Harry suggested.

"Don't bother. I'm too bloody tired to wake up once I hit the sheets." Draco got to his feet and chuckled as Harry picked up the tray.

"What?" Harry asked curiously.

"If you're making dinner, the Weasleys might not live through the night."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry growled, but he grinned when he said it. Draco pressed a kiss against Harry's temple.

"Goodnight, Potter. The Weasels' room is down the hall and around the corner from mine. I'm certain you'll find it."

With that, Draco went out and Harry returned to the library. Hermione was already surrounded by open books. Ron sat at a small table in front of a game of wizard's chess.

"Where is Mr. Perfect?" Ron asked when Harry set the tray down.

"He went to bed. He's very tired."

"Good."

Harry and Hermione went over several books and began grouping them by order of usefulness. Ron helped for awhile and then went to play a solitary game of wizard's chess at a corner table.

They retreated to the kitchen eventually and ate sandwiches (despite Malfoy's warning, there was little danger of poisoning) before Harry led them upstairs. The bedroom Draco had put them in was nearly as large as the entire ground floor of Ron and Hermiones' house. It had been gorgeously restored with rich cherry wood, opulent cream-colored fabric, and gleaming accessories.

Harry smiled ruefully at their awed expressions, knowing it was exactly the reaction Malfoy had intended.

He bid them good night and went back down the hall. Malfoy had prepared a small room for Harry, most likely for show. He had to have known Harry had no intention of sleeping there. He entered Draco's room.

Malfoy was sound asleep on the huge bed. Harry watched the rise and fall of his chest while he stripped off his clothes. Malfoy's hair was spread across the pillow in a pale fan. Harry slid into bed and nestled his face in it as he snuggled close to Draco. He heard the Slytherin sigh softly and a hand gripped Harry's arm and tugged him closer.

Harry smiled in contentment and drifted off to sleep.

ooOoo

Harry woke to the novel experience of finding Draco still asleep. Granted, the faint rays of dawn were barely creeping through the gaps in the thick curtains, but normally Malfoy was up and busy before Harry even thought of crawling from his covers.

Even more surprising, Draco did not move as Harry pushed away and got out of bed. The Slytherin really was tired. As much as Harry would have liked to wake him up with some judicious fondling and strategic licking, he knew Malfoy needed to rest, so he threw some clothes on and traipsed barefoot down to the gigantic kitchen to prepare some breakfast, grinning at the horrified expression he knew would appear on Draco's face when he looked at Harry's attempt at meal preparation.

He took a tray upstairs and set it next to the bed for when Draco awoke, and then took another to the library. Hermione was already awake and taking notes. She smiled at Harry and accepted a cup of tea.

"I thought I'd get an early start before everyone gets up. I'm charting a system--we need to sort everything before we can try to decipher any of it, I think."

Harry helped her and by the time Draco appeared, looking refreshed and alert once more, they had several stacks of varied materials.

"Thanks for breakfast, Potter. I'm managing to keep it down, so far," Draco said.

Harry tossed a crumpled paper missile at him and Malfoy sidestepped it easily and walked forward.

"All right, Granger, I assume you have several charts and graphs already prepared. Let's see them."

Hermione flushed, but picked up a sheaf of papers and handed them to Malfoy, who scanned them with a single raised eyebrow.

"Pedantic and predictable," Draco commented, "But I suppose it will do, for a start."

Hermione snatched them back angrily. "I suppose you could do better?"

"Of course," Draco said airily and proceeded to explain how, which eventually led to a yelling match and Harry sank into a chair to massage aching temples. The argument was nearing the name calling stage when Harry finally stood up.

"Enough!" he yelled. "We're never going to get anywhere with this if you two insist on acting like children!"

Draco glared at him, but Hermione flushed.

"You were getting on well enough in London! What happened?" Harry demanded. Not that he really wanted a repeat of that sort of "getting along."

Draco sighed. "You're right, Potter. It's difficult for me to admit that we need Granger's help. I suppose I let my annoyance get out of hand."

Hermione blinked at Malfoy.

"You're admitting you need my help?" she asked in surprise. Draco's jaw set and she quickly raised a hand. "No, never mind! I don't need you to repeat it. It's just shocking, is all. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Great," Harry snapped. "Now, Malfoy, can you stop nitpicking Hermione's system and just work with it? Let's all pretend to be friends, shall we?"

"Pretend to be friends?" Draco repeated.

"I can do it," Hermione said adamantly. "But I doubt Malfoy can manage it."

Draco's eyes flashed silver. "Is that a challenge, Granger?"

"You bet it is," she snapped.

Harry felt a sudden rush of trepidation and wished he had just kept his mouth shut, for once.

ooOoo

Malfoy seemed so captivated by the pretense that he was even sickeningly nice to Ron, who merely viewed the change of heart with increasing suspicion. Draco Accioed books for Hermione, complimented her on her hair, prepared her tea just the way she liked it, and followed her systems without further complaint. The whole thing irritated Harry to the point of distraction. By the end of the day, he was practically gnashing his teeth.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he snapped to Malfoy that night in Draco's room while he took his shoes off and flung them aside. Draco turned amused silver eyes on him.

"It was your idea," Draco said innocently.

"I said pretend to be friends, not act like bloody Don Juan!"

"Who?"

Harry groaned. Muggle references were completely lost on Malfoy and any explanation would have caused Draco's eyes to glaze over in boredom.

"Never mind," Harry said and sighed.

"Good. Come over here for a moment."

Draco was seated on the edge of the bed and he had already removed his shirt and boots. Harry obligingly got up and stood before him, knowing the opportunity for argument had passed. Malfoy pulled Harry down onto the bed. An instant later, Harry's shirt was torn open.

"I suppose I should have taken that off," Harry commented dryly.

"You like it better when I do it," Draco murmured and kissed him. Harry would have agreed if he could have spoken. Draco broke the kiss and went on, "You know all the manual labor I've been doing... it really frees up the mind for thinking."

"Really?" Harry asked breathlessly. Malfoy hands were already busy removing the rest of Harry's clothing.

"Yes. I've spent the past few days thinking of all the things I would do to you when you got here."

Harry couldn't breathe for a moment. Draco laughed throatily.

"Such as?"

Draco whispered in Harry's ear.

"Oh dear God," Harry said.

"Praying won't help you, Potter," Draco replied and laughed.

A short time later, Harry knew praying definitely wouldn't help because he was surely going to hell, but oh was it ever worth it...