Rating:
R
House:
Riddikulus
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
Romance Humor
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 05/14/2004
Updated: 01/04/2005
Words: 114,843
Chapters: 29
Hits: 563,518

Dragon Tamer

jennavere

Story Summary:
Desperate to avoid an arranged marriage, Draco convinces Harry to pretend to be his boyfriend. What follows is an epic romantic comedy involving scheming, snogging, silliness, shagging, snarky boys, superstars, singing, shagging, snuggling, secrets, sex gods, shagging, and a bunny named Draco Lucius Malfoy the Third. HD SLASH (and how!).

Chapter 26

Chapter Summary:
Draco wears leather. Mmmm, leather...
Posted:
09/21/2004
Hits:
15,159
Author's Note:
Please take note: this story is rated R for a very good reason - it involves two very hot boys and a lot of wild, kinky-monkey sex.

Dragon Tamer

Chapter 26: Leather-Clad Minx

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry woke up the next morning to the cool light of the winter sun coming in through the curtains and the gentle sound of the shower in the background.

He yawned and stretched, smiling when he heard the water turn off. Sure enough, a couple moments later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, wet-haired and wearing a silver fluffy bathrobe with a large Malfoy crest on it.

"Well, hello Draco," Harry said, sounding a bit punch-drunk. "Isn't it a lovely morning?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but nevertheless looked rather pleased. "I suppose if you had a mind-shattering blow-job the night before any morning seems pretty nice."

"Mmmm, perhaps," Harry agreed, sitting up in bed and looking at Draco appraisingly. "It was bloody amazing. Where'd you learn to give head like that, anyway? Bangkok?"

Draco looked confused. "What?"

"Nothing. Muggle thing," Harry replied. He cocked his head to one side. "Did you know you look adorable in that bathrobe?"

"What?" Draco looked horrified. "No I don't. I look unbelievably masculine."

"Yeah. Right," Harry snorted. "Whatever you say - cutie."

"Potter," Draco growled.

"You look all soft and fluffy and cuddly and I just want to pounce on you and snuggle you to death."

"You - I - WHAT? No way! That's disgusting," Draco said, sounding very grossed out. "Not another word out of you. Now go take a shower."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, with mock-severity. He got out of bed, grabbed some clothes from his suitcase, and headed for the bathroom.

"Oh, by the way, Harry," Draco called out, as he headed for the closet, "I had the house-elves pick up some shampoo and conditioner for you. Now don't worry, I knew you wouldn't even consider using my stuff because it's all wrong for your hair, seeing as it's designed to enhance highlights and reduce brassiness while increasing body and shine, so I had the house elves get some products designed for your hair type that will promote softness and manageability while improving texture and health."

Draco paused and took in the bewildered look on Harry's face. "Er...just thought you ought to know," he finished, a bit sheepishly.

Harry blinked at him and then disappeared into the bathroom, but if you listened very closely you could hear the words "gayer than a Dance major with a Shih Tzu" muttered under his breath.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

About fifteen minutes later Harry emerged, after taking a marvelous shower in Draco's enormous sunken tub and using all of the carefully chosen hair care products. He walked out of the bathroom, dressed for the day in a pair of designer boot cut jeans that Draco had bought him and a fitted black jumper, still rubbing at his wet hair with a towel.

"You know, Draco, I have to admit, my hair really does feel softer and more managea - SWEET BLESSED MERLIN IN A COCKTAIL DRESS AND STILLETO HEELS!" Harry gasped, staggering backwards in shock and clutching at the wall for support. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING?"

Draco, who had been leaning forward and looking in the mirror, very carefully arranging his hair into artful spikes with gel, spared a brief glance down at his clothes.

"Leather," he said simply. Harry stared at him with huge, wide eyes.

"Leather" was putting it very mildly. Draco was wearing a black sleeveless top that clung like a second skin and set off his white-blonde hair, and had paired it with black leather pants that fit so tightly that Harry was sure he was going to have a heart attack if he looked at Draco one second longer.

"My God, Draco, you look...you look..." Harry gulped and trailed off, still leaning against the wall and seriously wondering if his knees were going to give out.

"Phenomenally, flamingly, and mind-bendingly homosexual?" Draco asked, picking up a leather wrist cuff from the dresser and fastening it around one of his wrists.

"Um...sure," said Harry, who had actually been planning on saying "so fucking hot that I'm about to collapse and drown in a puddle of my own drool."

"Good," said Draco, looking pleased. "That's the idea." He picked up the other cuff.

"Oh it is?" Harry said conversationally, carefully edging his way towards the divan so he could sit down, still holding himself up with the wall. "So...why do you want to look so gay?"

"I'm trying to prove to my dad I'm not in the least bit straight," Draco explained, fastening the second cuff in place. "Or, I suppose, at the very least, piss him off."

"Ahhh," said Harry, as if it were all suddenly clear. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Draco. He slowly sat down on the divan, and then had a major brainwave. "Hey Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Know what would really piss your dad off?"

"What?"

"If we had sex."

"Oh, that's a brilliant idea, Harry!"

Harry gave himself a mental 'congratulations' and licked his lips, leaning back against the divan. "Alright then, my leather-clad minx, come to Daddy."

But Draco was walking out of the bedroom and into the sitting room.

"Draco, where the fuck are you - Draco? Come back! Damn it..." Harry scrambled off the divan and followed Draco out into the living area, where he was throwing a pinch of green powder into the tall marble fireplace.

"Lucius' study," Draco said clearly, and then put his head into the flames.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his favorite armchair in his study, sulking for the one millionth time over the Potter situation, when he saw his son's face in the fire.

"Dad? Are you there?"

Lucius walked over to the fireplace. "Yes, Draco? What is it?" He crossed his fingers, hoping against hope that Draco was going to say, "I've just broken up with Harry Potter and I want to marry Pansy and become the most irredeemably straight Death Eater there ever was!"

No such luck.

"Daddy, Harry and I are going to have wild, crazy, outrageously gay monkey sex right now, so don't come up to my room, alright? Cheers!"

And then he disappeared.

"For Christ's sake," Lucius muttered, stomping out of his study and up to Draco's room.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Honestly, Draco, did you have to tell your dad?"

"Yes, actually," Draco said, checking his hair in the huge mirror hanging on the wall of the sitting room. "It will totally and completely piss him off."

"Fine, whatever," Harry said, shrugging. "He's your dad. Now let's make with the monkey sex."

"What?" Draco asked, blinking at him.

"The wild, crazy, outrageously gay monkey sex? Come on Draco, let's go," Harry said, grabbing Draco's hand to drag him back into the bedroom.

Draco shook his head. "No, Harry, we're not actually having sex. I just said that to piss off my dad. I'm sure he's on his way up here to chew me out right now."

"But...but I thought..."

"Besides, do you know how long it took me to get into these pants? It took me ten minutes just to pull them on, and then I used a shrinking charm to make them even tighter. I'm not sure I can even sit down in these pants, there's no way I'm taking them off to have sex."

"But...but you look so..."

Draco smiled at Harry's pouting face and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. "Later, I promise. For now, just pretend we were doing it so my dad gets all out of sorts, okay?"

"Fine," Harry huffed, looking rather out of sorts himself. He leaned against the wall and blatantly raked his eyes up and down Draco's body as the blond began looking in the mirror again. Leather was definitely a good look for Draco, and Harry was beginning to worry about just how much later "later" really was.

Then Harry had a thought. "Draco, am I supposed to try to piss your dad off too?"

Draco looked surprised. "Well, yeah. I could use your help. Besides, I thought you hated my dad and would jump at the chance. You were thrilled to do it the last time we saw him at Hogwarts. In fact, if I recall, you smacked my arse in front of the entire Great Hall just to annoy him."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, but you know. We weren't going out then. You had just grabbed me and pretended I was your boyfriend. Now we're like...real boyfriends, you know? And I really like you, so um..." Harry was blushing slightly at this point. "I want your dad to like me too."

"Aw, you're so cute," Draco cooed, ruffling Harry's still wet hair. "But my dad really does literally want to kill you, so it might be a little late for that."

Draco went back to looking in the mirror. "Should I add some black eyeliner?"

"You have black eyeliner?" Harry asked, his eyes following the well-defined muscles of Draco's bare arm as the blonde raised his hand to his hair.

"No, I'd Accio some from my mum's room. But it's probably unnecessary." Draco turned his head and looked at Harry. "You know, I just thought of something else. You should try to act all dominant. It would really, really piss my dad off if he thought I was the sub in this relationship."

Harry smirked. "Draco, sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but you are the sub in this relationship," he said wickedly, knowing that such a statement was liable to get Draco nice and riled up.

Sure enough, Draco gasped in outrage. "How dare you, Potter!" he squeaked in horror. "Okay, before I wasn't going to have sex with you because I didn't want to try to take my pants off. Now I'm not going to have sex with you because I'm pissed off."

"You silly little girl," Harry said, amused. "You're withholding sex because you're mad at me? That just proves my point."

"Why you..."

And with that Draco tackled Harry. Well, attempted to tackle Harry. Harry had the extreme advantage of not wearing a pair of pants that prevented any and all movement beyond walking and looking sexy, and had Draco face down on the floor and securely pinned in two seconds flat.

"Let me go, you big brute!" Draco snarled.

"Hey, you tackled me. This is just self-defense," Harry pointed out, trapping the blonde underneath him, sitting on Draco's lower back and holding on securely to Draco's arms to keep them trapped behind Draco's back.

"Let. Me. GO!"

"Sure thing," Harry replied agreeably, who was most definitely enjoying having a leather-clad Draco squirming underneath him. "But only if you say you're the sub."

"Never!" Draco snapped back, futilely arching his back and trying to throw Harry off.

"Say it!"

"NO!"

"I won't let you up until you say it."

"Potter, you overgrown ape, if you don't get off me this instant - "

Harry grinned evilly as an idea hit him. "If you don't say it, I'll mess up your hair."

Draco gasped in horror. "You wouldn't!"

"I would."

"It took me ages to spike it just right! Harry, please, PLEASE, not the hair!"

"Well, then you know what to say. Let's hear it, babe. Admit you're the sub."

"Like hell I am!"

Harry let go of one of Draco's arms and brushed his hand lightly over the top of the spikes of Draco's hair.

"NOOOOO, not my hair! Fine, Potter, you win! I'm the sub, alright? I'm the fucking sub!"

"Good boy," said Harry sweetly. "Now say, "I'm your bitch, Harry."

"WHAT??? No WAY."

"Say it, or the hair gets it."

"You fucking little prick, I'll kill - oh, God, alright Harry, I'm your bitch," Draco said desperately, as Harry's hand came to hover over his hair again. "Do you hear me? I'M YOUR BITCH!"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE???"

Lucius Malfoy had just walked in to Draco's room to find his son and only heir trapped on his front, pinned in place by the Boy-Who-Lived, and shouting "I'm your bitch!"

Heads were about to roll.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"I repeat, what the BLOODY HELL is going on here?"

"Daddy, hi, I didn't see you there," Draco said, craning his head up from his position pinned under Harry.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you better have a damn good explanation for why you're shouting about being Potter's bitch rather than using an Unforgivable Curse."

"Oh, well, yes," Draco said, smiling brightly, ready to make his father proud. "Well, you see, Harry's just so big and mean and tough and sexy that I just let him have his way with me whenever he wants. I mean, truthfully, I really am his - "

"Finish that sentence and you'll be in serious trouble, young man," Lucius threatened. He took a good look at his son. "And what the hell are you wearing?"

"Leather, Daddy. Harry likes it when his bitch wears - "

"Not another word. Now get off my son, Potter, and both of you get down to breakfast immediately."

"Get off your son, or get your son off?" Harry asked innocently.

"BREAKFAST! BOTH OF YOU! NOW!!!"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

A wee bit later, at the breakfast table...

"So Christmas is on Sunday, and I thought we could all exchange presents with each other first thing in the morning, before all the family arrives for Christmas dinner," Narcissa said brightly, stirring sugar into her tea with a tiny silver teaspoon.

At her words, Harry tore his eyes off of the way Draco's shirt clung to his abs to clarify what he had just heard. "All the...family?" Harry asked politely.

Draco gave a meaningful cough.

"Well, Harry, actually you and I are going to have a nice little Christmas dinner alone, just the two of us...very very very far away from my crazy psycho relatives who want to see you dead. So no worries," he said encouragingly.

Harry looked a shade less than reassured.

"Glad that's all settled," Narcissa said, sipping her tea. She smiled at the boys. "I love your jumper, Harry."

Harry smiled back. "Another choice of Draco's, of course."

"Well, it looks wonderful on you, don't you think, Lucius?"

Lucius looked up from where he was alternately glaring at Draco and discreetly adding vodka to his orange juice. "What?"

"Harry's jumper. Doesn't it look simply darling?"

Lucius sighed, took a swig of his "orange juice" and looked over at Harry. "Well...I guess it does emphasize the color of his hair," he finally said, grudgingly. "All that nice, shiny black hair..."he trailed off, then shook his head.

Narcissa was beaming at Draco again. "And of course, after Christmas, we all know whose birthday it is after that!"

Draco smiled from his position standing at the side of the table, unable to actually sit down in his pants but feeling it was worth it for the look on his dad's face. "So what exactly are the party plans, Mum?"

"Well, your birthday is New Year's Eve, so we're having your party the night before. We didn't want anything to take away from the celebration of your birthday, sweetie. That was your father's idea, isn't he considerate?" Narcissa smiled at her husband.

"Yes, well, I'm nothing if not considerate," Lucius said magnanimously. He, of course, neglected to add that the party was going to be the night before Draco's birthday not because he was considerate but because he had a nefariously sinister scheme to marry his son off to a pureblood lesbian from a social-climbing family before he became of age.

"Well, it all sounds smashing," Draco said, bending over the table a bit to pick up his glass of orange juice. Harry's eyes immediately glued themselves to Draco's leather-clad arse, and he gulped audibly.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Draco, for the love of Merlin, will you sit down?" He was sick of watching Potter ogle his only child like a piece of meat.

Or maybe, just maybe, he was just jealous that Draco had a foxy black-haired lover who was practically drooling on the dining table over him.

Draco shot him a sickeningly sweet smile. "I can't sit down, Daddy. My pants are too tight."

"Refresh my memory - why you're wearing those ridiculous pants?"

"I told you, Daddy," Draco said as he slowly and deliberately bent over again to grab a croissant. "Harry likes me in leather. Right Harry?"

Harry had just attempted to take a bite of his cereal and completely missed his mouth with the spoon, seeing as eating is an overrated skill when you can't seem to take your eyes off your boyfriend's arse. "What? Oh, yeah. Leather. Mmmm," he managed to say.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "And dare I ask, why does Potter like you in leather?"

Draco shrugged, causing his shirt to ride up a tiny bit and another audible gulp to escape from Harry. "I don't know, Dad. Maybe it's because we're gay," the blonde finished pointedly.

"That is utter bollocks, Draco. Straight people like leather too. I remember when I was your age I had a pair of leather pants just like those, and every time I wore them I ended up completely shagged to the wall by James Pot - your mother."

There was an awkward moment of silence, and then -

"That's funny. I don't remember you having a pair of leather pants, Lucius dear," Narcissa said, looking slightly puzzled.

Harry, Draco, and Lucius very carefully avoided each other's eyes.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

All in all, it proved to be a very satisfying day. The Malfoy family took Harry on a tour of the Manor - an event that really does take all day. And of course, Draco's leather pants were a smashing success, even it meant that Draco was unable to sit down, if only because Lucius seemed unable to look at Draco without a drink in his hand. Not to mention that Harry hadn't stopped salivating over Draco for one moment all day. Draco was very much looking forward to bedtime tonight.

Speaking of bedtime...

Harry was in the sitting room, writing a letter to Ron and Hermione. Draco was lounging on the bed in his slinky black top and leather pants, watching Harry and skimming through Hermione's little black book, which he had bewitched to look like a fashion magazine (knowing that Harry wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole).

He heard Harry chuckle a couple times, and mutter, "Yoda, honestly, Hermione's going to die," but he was much too absorbed in a section of the book titled "Stripping" to care.

Finally, he heard Harry stand up and walk over to Hedwig, who was perched on top of the fireplace mantle.

"I've got a letter for Hermione and Ron at the Burrow, can you take it for me?" Harry said to Hedwig, who hooted. "Aw, of course you can, because you're the smartest owl that ever was. Who's my pretty little owl, hmmm? Who's my pretty owl?"

Draco raised an eyebrow as he heard Harry cooing at Hedwig. When Harry entered the bedroom a moment later, he gave him an amused look.

"You've just lost all your privileges of making fun of how I treat DLM."

"Hey, I'm not nearly as bad with Hedwig as you are with that rabbit," Harry said defensively.

"Who's my pretty little owl?" Draco cooed.

"Sod off," Harry said, his cheeks flushing. "She is a pretty owl."

"Of course she is," Draco said placatingly. As much fun as teasing Harry was, he had bigger fish to fry. Setting the magazine in his drawer, he stood up slowly, noticing smugly that Harry's eyes followed his every move.

"Well, I'm beat. Trying to move about in these pants all day is torture." Draco took a couple steps toward Harry, whose eyes were glued to his pants. He casually turned around. "I mean, just look how tight these pants are," he said innocently, looking over his shoulder at a now-frozen Harry and running a hand over his hip. "They really don't hide a thing, do they?"

Harry's pupils appeared to have dilated to the size of dinner plates, and he seemed to be trying very hard not to drool.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Draco asked, playfully, his own blood beginning to stir at the hungry look Harry was giving him.

"What? Oh no, nothing," Harry said, although he was pulling at the collar of his sweater as if the room had suddenly become too hot. "It's just...you just...oh fuck it, Draco, you look so fucking hot," Harry suddenly said, advancing on Draco and grabbing the blonde. "I just want you so fucking bad."

As Harry met his lips in a steamy kiss full of a day's sexual frustration, Draco was sorely tempted to just give in and let Harry have his wicked way with him.

But then the vision of Harry sitting on the divan, staring up at Draco as the blonde slowly gave him his first ever lap dance in nothing but those leather pants...

Draco abruptly shoved Harry down on the divan. Harry made a noise of protest, but Draco raised a hand.

"I know how much you love these pants, Harry," he purred, "And I got to thinking, maybe you'd like to watch me take them off."

Harry made a noise that sounded rather like a fish out of water, which Draco took to mean "Yes, Draco, yes I would like nothing better than to watch your unbearably hot and sexy body slowly get naked right before my eyes." Draco whipped out his wand, and with a couple whispered spells, he made the lights in the room suddenly dim and music start playing.

"Holy shit," Harry finally managed to say, as his astoundingly hot boyfriend straddled him on the divan.

"Ever had a lap dance, Harry?" Draco whispered seductively from the brunette's lap, skillfully grinding down against Harry.

Harry could only moan and shake his head 'no.'

"Well, then," Draco whispered, pulling off his top so that all he was wearing was that pair of sinfully tight leather pants. "First time for everything, right?"

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

After Sunday's marvelous leather pants success, Draco decided to stick with the "dress outrageously gay" theme all week.

Monday he wore skintight jeans with a midriff shirt that read "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" and put copious amounts of glitter on his face.

Lucius nearly had a heart attack.

Tuesday he wore a pink track suit with white stripes down the sides and a matching pink sweatband, and Lucius locked himself in his study and refused to come out all day.

Wednesday he wore a pure white suit with a pale pink shirt, matching sheer pink sunglasses, and a pink man-bag that would have rivaled the Dark Lord's, in which he had placed DLM so he could carry the rabbit around all day.

Lucius muttered some nonsense about needing to check on his charity donations and ran off and hid in the Ministry of Magic. After all, denial is a hell of a lot easier when you combine it with avoidance.

Draco hadn't been idle with Hermione's little black book either. Harry had found himself on the receiving end of everything from a sensuous massage with edible body lotion to new uses for bondage spells to a very spicy little game of "Detention with the Potions Professor" that put to shame all the fake details that Draco had given Wicked Witch Weekly.

Harry might have gotten suspicious about Draco's sudden shift from "exceptionally incredible in bed" to "insatiable sex kitten with a talent for the wildest kinky-monkey sex a person can have without getting arrested" but he was too busy receiving the best sex of his life to question where it was coming from.

And now it was Thursday, and Draco had planned today to be his coup de grace. He had managed to transfigure himself a perfect replica of an American sailor uniform, complete with white bell-bottoms, white and blue top, and the little hat perched on top of his blonde hair.

Harry would never admit it, not in a million years, but he thought Draco looked pretty damn cute in that outfit.

Now Thursday was, as Draco knew, Lucius's "business meeting" day - which of course meant that some of Lucius's "business partners"( who were actually the Death Eaters), gathered in Lucius's study to talk about "business" (which was actually plots against Harry Potter, general mayhem, and the proven best ways to suck up to Lord Voldemort).

Draco planned to drop in at the meeting to say hi.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"So, the next order of 'business'" Rodolphus Lestrange was saying, making exaggerated quotation marks with his fingers and getting a few chuckles out of the other Death Eaters, "is whether the Dark Lord would prefer dark or milk chocolate at our next gathering. Now I, personally, am in favor of dark chocolate, because hello, he's the Dark Lord, but Avery here says that - "

"Dad, are you in here? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Draco had just walked into Lucius's study, dressed in his darling little sailor suit. Lucius choked.

"Draco!" he hissed. "Not now! Daddy's in a meeting!"

"Oh, are you really?" Draco gushed, in a frighteningly good imitation of his mother. "How divine!" He beamed at the occupants of the room, who all smiled indulgently back at him. "Hello, everyone! Mr. Nott, Mr. Avery, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, Mr. Rookwood, Mr. MacNair, Professor Snape, Uncle Roddy - "

"Hello, Draco," Rodolphus Lestrange smiled at his nephew. "You look absolute charming. Doesn't he?" he said to the other Death Eaters, who all nodded.

"Yes, you really do," said Nott. "Lucius, you are so lucky to have such a fine-looking son. And one who's so comfortable with his sexuality."

"RIGHT," Lucius said, clearing his throat. "Did you NEED something, Draco?"

"Not really," Draco admitted, plopping down on a fine leather sofa next to his dad. "I just wanted to see my dad and tell him I love him."

"Awwww," came the chorus around the room. Lucius looked very pained.

"Well, thank you Draco, I...uh...love you too. Now why don't you run along, I'm sure Potter's waiting for you."

"Potter? As in Harry Potter? Is he here right now?" MacNair said, looking very eager. Draco and Lucius nodded.

"He's out in the hall," Draco explained. "After all, I couldn't really bring him in here with a bunch of Death Eaters, now could I? Oh, wait, I'm sorry, I meant my dad's 'business partners,'" he said with a huge wink.

There was an appreciative chuckle around the room.

McNair looked delighted. "Oooh, excellent. Mind if I pop out and see him? I won't be but a moment."

Lucius sighed. "Fine," he said, long-sufferingly, "But don't you dare kill him. I'm responsible for him while he's at my house."

"Oh no worries, Lucius, I don't want to kill him," MacNair assured the room, slipping something out of his bag and into his pocket and disappearing out into the hall.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

Harry was lounging against the door frame out in the hall, waiting for Draco to come back from his newest scheme to drive his dad nutters, when he heard a sinister voice behind him.

"Harry Potter, at last! I've finally got you all alone! I've been waiting for an opportunity like this for so long! Muahahaha!"

Alarmed, Harry whirled around, and came face to face with MacNair.

"You're mine now, Potter," MacNair cackled, reaching into his pocket. "And I've got something for you."

Fearing for his life, Harry quickly reached into his own pocket and whipped out his wand, pointing it straight at MacNair -

Who was holding out a copy of Wicked Witch Weekly.

"No need to resort to wands," MacNair said, sounding slightly sulky. "I was just going to ask you for your autograph."

Harry blinked at him.

"My what?" he finally said.

"Your autograph. For uh...my wife. Yeah, that's it. My wife. I'm...I mean, she's a big fan."

"Uh-huh," said Harry, still blinking. Finally, he smiled weakly. "Well, I don't really do autographs, you see - "

"Oh, please, Potter?" MacNair said, batting his eyelashes in what he obviously assumed was a winsome way but actually made Harry feel rather nauseous.

"Well..." Harry thought for a moment. "Are you still killing magical beasts for the Ministry?"

"Oh, I didn't know you knew about that. Yeah, yeah I am. Although I did get this offer for another job. See, I've always secretly fancied myself a hair-dresser, and Medusa's Salon is actually hiring right now, and the owner said that if I - "

"Promise you'll take the job as a hair-dresser and I'll sign your magazine," Harry interrupted firmly. He paused. "For your wife, of course."

"It's a deal," MacNair said, beaming, and they shook on it. Harry reluctantly took the magazine. "Now, who should I make this out to?"

"Make it out to The Beast Master."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Because...uh...that's my wife's nickname."

Feeling that his entire holiday with the Malfoys had been rather surreal already, Harry figured what the hell, and signed the magazine.

''''''''''''''''''''''

"So, who wants to hear some juicy details about me and Harry's sex life?" Draco said, and several Death Eaters shot their hands up into the air.

"Ooooh, me, me, me!" a few squealed.

Lucius had had enough.

"That is IT!" he exploded, standing up and picking Draco up by the collar of his sailor shirt and hauling him to his feet. "I've had just about enough of this. Say goodbye, Draco."

"Goodbye Draco," Draco said cheekily, waving goodbye as his dad dragged him out into the hall.

Out in the hall MacNair was thanking Harry profusely and stuffing something back in his robes.

"So, Potter thanks so much for the auto - the uh...tips on your weaknesses that I can pass on to the Dark Lord," MacNair finished hurriedly, upon seeing Lucius and the furious look on his face. "I'll just be getting back to that meeting.

He dashed back into the room and shut the door. Harry turned to watch as Lucius let go of Draco's shirt collar and glared at his son.

"Draco Malfoy, what have I told you about interrupting Daddy's business meetings to act outrageously homosexual?" Lucius hissed.

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them. "You've...had this conversation before?" he asked, bewildered.

The two Malfoys ignored him.

"Not to do it?" Draco said, in a bored tone of voice.

"That's right! How could you embarrass me, acting all gay like that? And in front of Severus!"

"Oh, so you're finally admitting that I'm gay then?" Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring right back at his dad.

"Not on your life," Lucius spat back. "You're no more gay than I am."

"Oh, so I'm not just gay, I'm an extremely gay closet case, then, is that it?"

"WHAT?" Lucius sputtered. "No, that's not - how dare you - Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are grounded!"

"GROUNDED?" Draco howled. "Daddy, I'm sixteen years old! You can't GROUND ME!"

"Yeah? Watch me."

Harry's sense of justice rose up. Afterall, Lucius Malfoy really was one hell of an extremely gay closet case. "Um, Mr. Malfoy, you really shouldn't ground Draco just because he told the truth - "

"Stay out of this Potter. Or wait, actually - you're grounded too."

"Wait....what?" Harry said, shocked. "You can't ground me!"

"I can," Lucius said menacingly. "As long as you're staying under my roof I'm your guardian, and I say you're grounded. Now both of you, go upstairs to Draco's room. Now, before I decide that neither of you is too big or too old to be turned over my knee!"

"Why Lucius," Harry purred, taking a step towards the raving older Malfoy, "I didn't know you were so kinky."

"GO!!!"

Harry and Draco ran.

''''''''''''''''''''''


Author notes: Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!