Facade

Harry awoke to knocking.

"Come!" he managed to get out, somewhat sleepily. The knocking ceased and the door opened.

Draco smirked in amusement at the command, but entered, fully dressed in a blue coat similar to the one Harry had first seen Draco in, matched with an elaborately embroidered waistcoat. Locking the door quietly behind him he walked towards the bed, saying nothing, but absorbing the sight that was sprawled before him.

Harry lay in bed on his back, one arm underneath his pillow, cushioning his head. The other lay across his eyes, as if he were in denial that morning had come. The blanket had fallen halfway off the bed and now lay diagonally, covering Harry from navel downwards but leaving the broad expanse of chest, lightly dusted with hair, bare to Draco's sight.

He reached the foot of the bed and leaned casually on the bedpost, tilting his head. The blond quickly became absorbed in his favorite pastime of late: watching Harry. He fascinated Draco like no other man before. He had been infatuated any number of times, most of these infatuations had gone no further than Draco's silent admiration but, something in Harry dared Draco to go beyond, to speak. He felt compelled to push his interest's boundaries to the limit if only just to see his responses, he needed the challenge and enjoyed the confrontations that he instigated. There had been the dance with Ginny, made all the more enticing by the deadly glares sent from brilliant green eyes. Harry had countered with a rousing game of billiards, an incredibly rousing game of billiards, in Draco's opinion.

He had been taken unawares by Harry's determination to find out his intentions but, he considered, it showed a devotion to his friends that was very pleasing. He in turn had surprised Potter when he talked Miss Weasley into singing the aria. His paramour's _expression when he understood the significance of the Mozart was something Draco deeply cherished. Harry was so delightful when unbalanced, like when Harry's breath hitched for a brief moment during the moonlight dance they shared. The satisfaction Draco gained from triumphing over Harry in a game-like setting was addicting. Harry's hesitance to oppose Draco was almost as intriguing as his refusal to back down, and made Draco's victory all the more sweet.

He stood there, musing, for he knew not how long. Draco was interrupted by a soft grunt as Harry moved, sat up and reached for his glasses. Rubbing his eyes sleepily he brushed his characteristically messy hair out of his eyes with a hand. He yawned and blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the bright morning light.

"No need to wake up on my account, Potter. I was quite enjoying the view." Draco said, his voice low and husky with a slight hint of amusement.

Harry looked up quickly, but was not surprised that his host was standing before him. Draco had woken him up the past few mornings in the same manner, knocking loudly until Harry was awake enough to bid him enter and saying not a word until Harry had sat up and put on his glasses. Some part of Harry theorized that Draco did so intentionally so that he would be the first thing that Harry saw in the morning.

Harry smiled good naturedly. "Can't understand why. The landscape is rather dull, you know, and far too brown to be in good taste." Draco arched a brow and Harry continued. "Myself, I prefer a much more golden landscape, bathed in light."

Draco seated himself on Harry's bed and reached out, gently tracing his scar with a forefinger. "Ah, but my landscape is unique, not to be found anywhere. There are virtues buried deep, hidden from immediate sight that are revealed only through emerald pools."

Harry drew a breath as Draco's finger made its way down the side of his face and to his lips, where it lingered, tracing the full lower lip before falling to the side.

"You are too beautiful by half, Harry," Draco said honestly.

"And you are far too generous in your poetics." Harry cracked a smile and returned the searching look on Draco's face. "What have you got planned for me today?"

Draco's hand was making a slow progression over sleep warmed skin, inching towards the flat and muscled stomach. "Mother and Pansy are calling on the Goyles today. I declined to tag along. Father is still away, on business with Lord Voldemort."

Harry felt his heart rate speed up at the soft touch, his throat going dry. "And where does that leave us?"

Draco blinked innocently. "Us? Why, alone for the day, I suppose. . . And I personally have no qualms about spending it all here with you in this bed."

Harry smiled. "You will not tire of me?"

"Oh, I will tire from you, Potter." Draco smirked. "With any luck you shall tire from me as well."

Harry flushed. There had been a few kisses and touches since that day be the lake, but nothing beyond that. Harry was not entirely sure that he was ready for anything beyond that but, when Draco touched him or looked at him, suddenly he felt beyond ready, even impatient, for the continued exploration of their bodies. This kind of relationship he had never imagined possible with a woman, much less a man. The realization of this other option, a natural extension of his esteem and admiration for men that had always existed within him had been sudden and somewhat alarming. Although he was lacking experience in the physical facet of relationships, he knew Draco would not pressure him. Whenever he appeared uneasy with anything, Draco brushed off the offending suggestion with a smile and a reassurance of Harry's control in the relationship. However, with Draco's hand now on his thigh, he didn't feel much in control of anything.

"Is that so? Well I may not know much but, I do believe you are quite overdressed for such an event. Perhaps I could help you, there?" The green eyes flashed with good humor and desire as Harry gently undressed Draco, watching with curiosity at the pleasure Draco gained from the touch of his hands, nearly shivering although he was far from cold.

Draco moved forward, straddling Harry's legs, his breeches taut across slim hips. As his chest was revealed Harry's lips curved into a grin. Draco loved that grin. It was completely unselfconscious, and it assured Draco that Harry did indeed enjoy his body, despite the uncertainty that crept into his countenance. He ran his hands down Harry's arms, his hair falling forward into his face as he tipped Harry's face up to meet his gaze.

Harry smiled, his hands coming to rest on Draco's hips as he pushed the coat shirt, and waistcoat off the slim form. Draco's weight was comfortable and becoming familiar, as these wake up calls of Draco's had a tendency to lead them both back to bed. Harry didn't really know why the blond bothered getting dressed at all. Harry tilted his head back as Draco nuzzled his throat. "Draco. . ."

"Mmph?" The blond was busy in his attentions and Harry smiled in pleasure, before trying to focus his thoughts once more.

"Don't you want to take advantage of our privacy?" Harry breathed.

"I thought I was?" Draco eased Harry to lay back against the pillows, stretching out on top of the other boy, making a diligent effort to explore the oft admired hollow of Harry's throat.

Harry groaned softly. "Indeed, but . . . is there nothing you wish to show me now that your mother and fiancée are away?"

Draco raised his head, ceasing his exploration, his _expression sharply annoyed. "Potter-Harry, if you want me to stop then state as much."

Harry sighed. "It's not so much that I wish you to stop . . . only that it would be, well, nice to be outside with you and not to fear discovery." His countenance was intense yet wistful as he raised his eyes almost shyly. "Not be conscious of every glance between us."

The blue eyes softened and Harry found himself the recipient of a very tender kiss. "Harry Potter, you're either a romantic . . ." another soft kissed bestowed affectionately, the smile shifting into a playful smirk ". . . or an exhibitionist." Harry flushed and Draco snickered softly, "I can't decide which prospect excites me more."

Harry blinked up at him. "Exhibitionist, you think? I do believe you were the one who stripped yourself of your clothing within the first 24 hours of my stay here."

Draco smiled. "I got you to join me."

"Indeed."

"And it was you who made the first flirtatious remark."

Harry shifted his weight under Draco, his fingers combing through the fine hair. "There is a stubbornness in me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others," he said, musingly. "My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

Draco smirked, the left side of his mouth curving upwards as he rolled off Harry, stretching out beside him and stroking the stubbled cheek. "Indeed, Potter. That seems to not be the only facet of your personality that rises."

Harry flushed but butted his head playfully against Draco's shoulder. A short tussle ensued where Harry found himself, sheet wrapped around his hips, astride the blond. Draco's breath caught in his throat at the look in Harry's eyes, so intense, but when Harry spoke, he was startled by the content.

"What are you going to do about Miss Parkinson?"

Draco sighed, closing his eyes to shield himself from the potential hurt in those green eyes. "I haven't the faintest idea. I've tried the monastery, threats of becoming a eunuch, promises of money, clothes, even other men. She's fixated on becoming the next Lady Malfoy." The blond turned his head, meeting Harry's gaze once more. "What are you going to do about Miss Weasley?"

"I told her I wouldn't marry her."

Draco blinked. "You did what? Does Weasley know?"

It was Harry's turn to look away. "Ron doesn't know. He still thinks I'm going to ask for Ginny."

"So, you really haven't solved anything, have you?" he paused. "Except for breaking Miss Weasley's heart."

"Her heart didn't seem broken in conversation with Mr. Creevey," Harry noted, his voice intentionally light.

Draco shrugged easily, playing with their entwined hands. "Then perhaps you'll get lucky, Potter."

"And you, Malfoy?" Harry's eyes searched his face and Draco suppressed the urge to smirk again, smiling instead.

"Perhaps I can get lucky as well, and Miss Parkinson will be plowed over by a runaway carriage."

They both laughed, Harry bending low until their foreheads were touching and pressing his lips against Draco's. Draco tugged at the sheet still wrapped around Harry's lower half. Harry swatted the fingers away and smiled. "You still owe me a question, Malfoy."

Draco frowned at the swatting and slid his hands around Harry's waist, moving over the curve of Harry's backside. "I do?"

Harry sighed with exasperation and trapped Malfoy's wrists in his hands. "Yes, from the billiards match. Do you remember?"

The blond frowned, his forehead crinkling slightly. Revelation dawned and he eyed Harry suspiciously. "What sort of question do you have in mind?"

Harry ducked his head shyly and grinned. "Are you up for another match, Draco? With perhaps, higher stakes?"

"What are you playing at, Potter? What sort of stakes?"

Playful green eyes peeked at Draco from under full lashes. "If you lose, you have to strip nude and remain as such until your mother and Miss Parkinson arrive home."

It was Draco's turn to blink. "You are a right exhibitionist, Potter." The blue eyes narrowed. "Fine. But if you lose, you have to do the same."

"Naturally."

~_~_~

"You cheated."

"I most certainly did not."

"You did."

"Stuff it, Malfoy, and start stripping," Harry said, pulling his black coat back on over his brown patterned waistcoat. "Don't be such a sore loser." Harry arched a brow.

Draco pouted, pulling his shirt over his head. The jacket, waistcoat, and stock had been discarded already. "Oh, you're the one that's going to be sore, Potter." Draco growled, glaring in a way that Harry found rather exciting. The blond seated himself on the sofa, unlacing his boots and removing his stockings as well. "I cannot believe you are making me strip naked in my own parlor."

Harry just smiled. "You agreed to the rules, Draco."

Draco stood again, pushing the trousers down his hips. Harry noted that all his clothing was meticulously folded, even his stockings. He grinned and Draco licked his lips dangerously, advancing on Harry. "You're going to pay for this, Potter."

"Can I work off my debt in trade?"

"You're such a tease, Harry."

"Oh, it's Harry now?" Draco quickly found his way onto Harry's lap and became reacquainted with a certain part of Harry's anatomy. Harry traced a line down Draco's jaw, arms wrapped tight around the slim frame pressed against him.

"I'm naked on your lap, Harry. I think I can drop the formality.," Harry chuckled, lifting his head to meet Draco's urgent kiss. He parted his lips, brushing his tongue against Draco's mouth.

The intimate joining of tongues was interrupted by a piercing shriek followed by a stunned: "Mr. Malfoy… Mr. Potter?"

Two pairs of eyes traveled quickly to the doorway where Miss Parkinson stood. Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "Bugger," he stated succinctly, seemingly nonplussed at the interruption.

Harry was considerably more shocked, having the urge to both push Draco from his lap in disgust and shield him from Miss Parkinson's wandering-and appreciative-gaze.

"Pansy, darling, I'm rather in the middle of something, as you can see," he said dryly.

Pansy's face was red with embarrassment and she kept her eyes downcast. "I-I see that," her eyes narrowed. "But you will stop what you're doing at once. I demand it." She lifted her head haughtily. "Mr. Potter release Mr. Malfoy at once."

Draco blinked. Harry would have laughed, but he was rather busy himself, sinking back in the couch cushions as if they would absorb him. Would Sirius ever forgive him? Would Ron? How could he ever show his face in polite company again, being caught in such a scandalous predicament.

"Pansy, dear, if you're set on being the next Lady Malfoy then you ought to get used to it. It's a sight that will become familiar to you." Draco's voice had lost all sense of playful indulgence, becoming hard and cold. Harry was amazed at the change in his character. Draco's body was rigid on his lap, his fingers closed round Harry's forearm in a vise like grip. The changes were enough to shock Harry out of his self pitying stupor and stare at Draco in amazement.

"We'll see about that Mr. Malfoy," Pansy said, then turned and flounced out of the room.

As soon as the door had closed behind Miss Parkinson, Draco relaxed, standing and pulling on his clothing roughly. "Stupid girl. How dare she demand anything of me? When I think of how my father will react when he hears this . . ."

Harry's hysteria quickly returned. "Your Father? You're going to tell your father?" he said, making no effort to hide the panicked nature of his inquiry.

Draco turned around, his mouth in a cruel grin. "Of course, Potter. Well . . ." Draco amended. "He's going to hear of Pansy's rudeness." The humor was back in Draco's face. "The exact nature of my state of undress or the position she found us in will not be mentioned. But now, Pansy will no longer pose a problem. I should thank the twit, and you, for that matter."

Harry's relief was visible, but his eyes reflected the uneasiness he harbored. Draco's indulgence of his whims had led them to a dangerous situation. Had it been anyone save Miss Parkinson . . . he shuddered to think if Lady Malfoy herself had found them. How could he have endangered Malfoy in this way? How could he have endangered himself?

Draco seemed to sense the wariness of the other man. "Harry. . ." he said softly, cupping the pale cheek tenderly. "I am a Malfoy. And with title there comes a certain imperviousness to scandal, first of all, and second, your reputation could not be dirtied if it were linked with mine."

Harry blinked, nodding slightly. He attempted a smile. "There is nothing scandalous about two men being in the same room together, after all. We have the protection of our sex."

Draco's eyes were marvelously expressive, Harry noted suddenly, watching with interest as they flickered with emotion. Surprise morphed into realization, which in turn evolved into respect. The hand slid up into the dark hair, talented fingers massaging the scalp gently as the eyes darkened with desire.

"Now you're understanding, Harry. Once we have explained our friendship . . . public relations will be relatively painless, as your Godfather and his companion have demonstrated." Harry flushed slightly at the mention of Sirius and Remus, but nodded.

"No one thinks twice about males together. In sport or play or merely boyish antics," he mused, suddenly remembering Sirius' fondness for wrestling with Remus. "But, where does that leave us?" he whispered, his palm resting over Draco's heart in an almost defensive gesture.

A slender hand covered his own and Draco brushed his lips gently against the lightning bolt scar. "Hiding in plain sight. Now, shall we go and meet my mother?" Harry nodded, but he couldn't fight the nagging feeling inside him that things were not going to be quite as simple as Draco hoped.