Dragon of Song

Chapter Two

The former enemies spent an hour and a half speaking quietly. Or, at least, two of the enemies. Harry spent the time staring silently at Draco. Hermione had seen the thoughtful look on his face and let him be. Draco didn't even acknowledge his presence. Harry was too busy remembering something long forgotten to even notice.

Hermione was enjoying Draco's company, surprisingly. He had gone through such a change over the past four years that she could barely recognize him by personality. "Have you dated any, Draco? How stupid, I'm sure you have. Four years with your looks?" She smiled humorously. For some reason the 'feminine' side in her was hoping to hear some sordid love story.

The smile that had been on his face faded and was replaced by a mask of nothing. He finished off the Mai Tai in his hand and set the glass down. "No. Actually, I'm still caught up with someone from years ago... But I doubt the feeling is mutual." He swallowed tightly. He needed another drink. His mouth was dry and he suddenly realized how hot the room was. He stood up with a sharp movement and walked over to the double window. He flung it open. The cool air felt blessed and comforting.

Harry had broken out of his reverie upon hearing Hermione's question. He blinked and looked between her and Draco. He watched Draco's face turn emotionless. Draco's off-hand reply caused a hitch in his breath. He found himself glaring at Hermione as Draco opened the window, allowing the cold breeze in. His fingers clenched the arm of the chair, turning his knuckles white. He needed to get out. But, couldn't move. Couldn't will himself to get up out of the chair. No...

Draco collected himself quickly and slumped back onto the couch. "I don't think I could see anyone else." He shrugged. His liquid silver eyes were cloudy. A storm was raging in their depth.

"Who was it? If it was before... before you left, then it must've been at school." She raised her eyebrows and smiled a little, sipping her own glass of wine. She glanced at Draco and paused. His eyes were glassy and looked so pained it almost hurt to look at him. Draco turned, not to look at her but to stare narrowly at Harry. She could see his jaw clench beneath his lucid, pale flesh.

"I believe your... friend knows. Don't you, Potter?" He looked down at his hands and was annoyed to find them shaking slightly. He balled them up until his knuckles whitened and turned his eyes back to Harry, who was staring at him with the same look he, himself, wore.

Harry looked helplessly at Hermione, who was watching both of them in confusion. He sighed and looked at Draco softly. "Yes." He blinked back moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. He leant forward, covering his face in his hands. He stared into the darkness of his palms and tried to sort out his thoughts. He looked up at Draco again and mentally recoiled. The look of pain on his face killed him. It shattered his mind.

"And those years ago he said, 'Don't worry. It'll all get better.' " Draco was standing again, pacing slowly in the middle of the room. "But, instead, it got worse. Everything got worse. I was a fool to believe in anything he said. But the worst part is, I still can't let go." He whirled around and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Do you still believe it'll all get better, Harry? Do you? Because I don't." He walked out of the room and up the stairs. Once on the landing, a glass door that led out on the balcony was visible. He pushed the door open with trembling hands and lent over the rail, taking in the cold air in icy gulps.

~

Down below, Harry and Hermione sat in silence. Harry was staring after Draco with a longing look on his face. Hermione was staring at Harry in utter confusion. Draco's outburst had uncovered something unknown to Hermione and hidden behind Harry.

"Harry. Harry, tell me he didn't mean what I think he meant." She looked at him hopelessly, praying that she was wrong. She twisted her fingers together in her lap.

Harry pressed his palms against his eyes and sighed heavily. He shook his head and lowered his hands. "It's exactly what you think it is." He stood up suddenly and strode out of the room, heart knocking against his ribs. He walked up the stairs slowly, already feeling the cool air from the doorway. He chewed his bottom lip and stepped onto the landing. He went out on the balcony, eyes locked on Draco's back. It was then he noticed the slim form was shaking.

He wanted to at least touch him, stop the pain. But he knew it was impossible. And Draco's words from a few minutes ago were still flickering in his mind. Was it his fault all this had happened? His hands were trembling. He swallowed the salty tears that were threatening to overwhelm and placed a hand, just a hand of comfort, on Draco's shoulder. "Draco," he whispered softly, pulling the blonde towards him. He came willingly.

To Draco, this was all just a dream occurring in the longing sub-conscious of his mind. But when he felt the warmth of the familiar body, it dawned on him that maybe all this was real. Maybe this was really happening. He had been fighting the tears the past few hours but now he broke down and sobbed. He remembered vividly when Harry had told him everything would be fine in the end. He remembered the hysterical look in father's eyes as he looked upon his son, who was shackled in the Malfoy dungeon, wishing to die. He remembered feeling betrayed, as he was lead from his own home, covered in filth and blood, for everyone to see. But suddenly, as he buried himself in the embrace, he didn't care about all this. Instead, he wondered in the back of his mind if he could trust his former lover. After what he'd been put through, could he trust him again?

He realized he was trembling all over. He drew away from Harry and looked back over the balcony. The tears were still staining his face. "Why didn't you save me? You were supposed to be the hero, the Golden Boy." He turned to glare at Harry through the hot tears. Everything he'd hidden burned in his mind and he wanted to cause pain. To kill. But he pushed the murderous thoughts from his mind. That was how he used to be. He couldn't do that anymore.

Harry's mind was raging with regret he couldn't even comprehend. "I don't know. I know that's not a good enough answer, but I don't know. I should've done something, I know. I'm sorry." He lowered his eyes. He couldn't take the anger in Draco's eyes. But when he glanced up, the blonde was no longer staring at him with anger, but longing rather. A look that Harry missed utterly. He walked forward, embracing the slim form, despite the weak attempts to push him away. Finally, they melted into each other. They reminisced about the past and wished on the future.

~~~Five Years Ago. During Sixth Year~~~

The Astronomy Tower was, surprisingly, empty. The two boys were wrapped in a thick cloak, limbs entwined. They were both staring at the ceiling, watching the stars. Neither of them had said a word for several moments.

"Harry?" A sixteen-year-old Draco turned to look at his lover.

"Yeah?"

"What am I going to do?"

"I don't know. But don't worry. It'll all get better. Trust me."

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"You know I love you."

"Mmm."

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"If you're falling asleep, just tell me."

"Okay. I'm falling asleep."

"Figures..."

~~~Present~~~

They were sitting on the balcony, leaning against each other for support. Draco was humming softly to himself, some muggle tune. Harry was listening to him, staring at the velvet black sky. He nudged Draco a bit and whispered, "Sing something."

Draco nodded and tried to think of something appropriate for the situation. "I don't know how it'll sound. The original has a miracle voice. And I... might change a few things.' He smiled grimly and relaxed, imagining the rhythm in his head.

There goes my old boyfriend

There's another diamond ring

And all those late night promises

I guess they don' mean a thing

So baby, what's the story?

Did ya find another man?

Is it easy to sleep in the bed that we made?

When you don't look back I guess

-The feelings start to fade away

I used to feel your fire

But now it's cold inside

And you're back on the street

Like you didn't miss a beat, yeah...

Draco paused, skimming the lyrics in his head and changing stanzas. He sighed softly and continued, keeping time with the inaudible rhythm.

Tell me that you're happy that you're on your own, yeah, yeah

Tell me that it's better when you're all alone

Tell me that your body doesn't miss my touch

Tell me that my lovin' didn't mean that much

Tell me you ain't dyin' when you're cryin' for me...

He stopped there. He didn't want to go on. He knew he was paining Harry, but somehow it felt justified in some sick way. He shrugged against Harry's back. "Not the best song for right now..." He raised his eyes briefly to the sky. Endless lights.

Harry had listened to Draco's soft voice silently, trying not to take notice of the obvious meaning in the lyrics. He made to stand and the weight against his back almost stopped him. It gave him the feeling that he was important to the balance. But he still stood. He rested his arms on the rail and looked out over the city of London. He twisted his fingers and realized he was wearing a ring. He'd forgotten all about it. He'd never taken it off. He lowered his jade eyes to the ring. It was a silver band with a handsome emerald embedded in it. On either side of the emerald was a minute carving of a dragon. He pulled the ring off and held it up so the moonlight reflected off it. "My Hidden Dragon..." he shoved the ring back on and turned to look at Draco.

"Now what?" His fingers toyed absently with the ring, feeling the engravement.

"I don't know." Draco looked up at Harry slowly. "Granger, might as well go home. But I want you to stay." He lowered his head and stared blankly at the stone.

Harry turned on his heel and started down the stairs to tell Hermione what he was doing. He told her to stop by there tomorrow afternoon. And, yes, he was spending the night. And, yes, he would explain everything tomorrow.

~

Harry had watched Hermione leave from an open window in the master bedroom. Draco had said quite plainly that he was to stay in his room. Harry had no objections. His mind had started to remember the better part of the nights he'd spent with Draco years ago. Something he wanted to relive.

Now he turned to look at Draco, who was sprawled across the vast canopy bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt himself fall into a sort of trance. He stared hungrily at the blonde's slender limbs and flawless complexion. In moments he found himself crawling onto the bed and leaning cautiously over Draco.

Draco felt the sweet, warm breath on his face. He had closed his eyes for a moment, lost in a fight to collect his many jumbled thoughts. Now he opened them to look into the face of his lover from what seemed like decades ago. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a strong sense of déja-vu. This was all too familiar; lying like this on the cool, stone floor of some abandoned classroom in the night. Staring into each other's eyes like it was the end of the world. Draco started to sit up but stopped when Harry refused to move. "Harry?"

"It wasn't all my fault."

In one swift movement, their lips had met, a harsh urgency in the way they grasped ach other. Four years they'd both waited for this. Longed for this very moment. And now they had it; had it to do whatever they wished with it. Shivers ran through them as they made precise movements and acted on their own whims. Mouths gropped blindly, as did hands. But Harry stopped suddenly, drawing away gently and leaving Draco to stare at him in confusion.

Draco lowered his eyes to floor, silently pondering what had just occured. He twisted his fingers in the satin bed comforter. Then, slowly, he sat up and made for the door swiftly, "I need a drink." He left the room and fled the stairs, hoping he had plenty of rum--he would be needing more than two Mai Tais the next few days. He stood slouched at the counter mixing a drink, wearing only flaring black silk pants that hung below the waist. He stopped to stretch, arching his back, and then picked up the martini glass delicately. But he couldn't drink it. He could still taste Harry's mouth vivdly; delicious and warm. Why had he stopped?

He forced the glass to his lips, seeking the calm of the rich liquor. Just as the sweet liquid flooded his mouth, he felt Harry's presence; just a small twinge that he was being watched. He turned his head a little and raised his eyebrows. "What is it?" He waited a moment but was greeted by forbidding silence. He turned around completely.

Harry was leaning heavily against the doorframe, emerald eyes on Draco's slim form. His arms were folded loosely, fingers clenching his arms, emerald ring glinting dimly in the faint lighting. He saw the gray eyes glance down at the silver band and a soft, grim smile slipped across his lips. "I've never taken it off."

The blonde lowered his eyes a little and sighed. "Let's get some sleep. I have another performance tonight." He stepped past Harry and started up the stairs. When he reached the extravagant room, he glanced around, sensing the insecurity and hope that was bleeding from him. With slender fingers, he pulled the satin bedding down and crawled into the deep green bed. He curled up and waited in that position until he heard Harry come quietly into the room and felt him inch closer to him. He shivered from the familiar warmth and unconsciously snuggled into a nook in the other body.

~

He awoke to find a body sleeping against him. He relaxed, pretending things had always been like this. Pretending nothing had happened. But he knew he couldn't forget. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and lowered his green eyes to the angel next to him. He brushed a strand of silvery hair from the pale face, trembling slightly at the electric touch. "Dragon," he whispered softly, running his fingers along the cool flesh. Cool, yet warm.

He could feel himself coming around, breaking away from the coma of sleep. He could also feel heat animating him. He drew himself closer to the heat and buried himself under the heavy satin. Soft, silky fingertips massaged his flesh gently. A soft sigh escaped his lips, a breath of slight arousal. It the haze of his sleep induced mind he remembered the night before, but right now, the caressing fingertips were the highlight of the moment. He slipped his fingers over the hand sliding down his back and brought it close to his face, inhaling the musky scent of salt and flesh.

Harry leant over, lips making sweet contact with the back of the xanthochroid's neck. When he sat back up a pair of gray eyes were staring curiously at him. He laid his head against the oriented silver bedframe. "Sorry..." He raised his eyes and looked at the blonde painfully.

"Don't be." Draco sat up and drew his knees up against his chest, eyes closed. "This is a mess... A bloody mess."

~

"It can't be true."

"Yes, it can."

"But it can't!"

"Well, it is."

Sigh. He ran a hand through his brilliant hair and laid back. This was some sick joke. She was looking at him softly with something similar to sympathy and exasperation. But it... He stopped himself from speaking and stood slowly, incomplete ideas flooding his train of thought. "I want proof." He folded his arms stubbornly.

She sighed and nodded.

~

When they neared the location of the flat, she made him promise to be understanding. He hadn't exactly agreed but even if he had, she wouldn't have expected him to follow through with it. She sighed and silently hoped this would go well. When she saw the familiar black Mercedes she pulled in next to it.

He was already half way out the car before she completely parked. She struggled with the car door, cursing. She had wanted to get to the door before him, an attempt at lessening some of the blow, but no. She took a deep breath and pushed passed Ron, knocking on the solid wood frame. No answer. She frowned and tried the knob. The door opened easily, knocking against the wall gently. The downstairs seemed utterly deserted. Her large brown eyes glanced up the stairs and a little twinge of witch-like intuition struck her. Yes, they were up there.

"Stay down here." She gave him a knowing glare and started up the stairs. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the threshold, arms folded. She took to the stairs slowly, trying not to think about what she might find up there.

On the landing there were three doors. One was open the smallest bit, swaying slightly from the breeze coming in through the balcony, which was open. With very little self-confidence, she braced herself and pushed the door open. And screamed in disgusted shock.

From below, Ron heard the cry of 'terror' and hurried up the stairs only to bite back a cry; a strangled gagging noise emitted instead. He turned and ran into the closest room, which was, luckily, the bathroom and vomited.

~

Harry and Draco had been lying, stripped of clothing, limbs entwined across the canopy bed. Harry's head was nestled somewhere in Draco's neck, whose arms were wrapped around the other's narrow chest. The sheets and satin blankets were tossed unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed. Their bodies ached hungrily from unspeakable things. Both had been deep in hazy dreams when the door had flung open and a horrified scream shattered the delicate atmosphere, followed by another.

Harry bolted up. His eyes grew wide and then very small as he gropped for the sheets on the floor. When he found them he wrapped it around his and his lover's bodies. "What are you doing here?" He stared at Hermione in disbelief and annoyance. But the feeling of just wanting to die overwhelmed him when Ron came up behind her. "Oh god."

Draco was looking from Harry to Ron and then slowly at Hermione. He crossed his arms and glared at both of them angrily. "What in the bloody hell is going on? Do you always just break into people's houses?" He wrapped the sheets around himself tighter and narrowed his eyes. No one moved. He shut his eyes, taking an exasperated breath. "Will you get out?" Both backed out of the room slowly, shutting the door. Draco turned to Harry, frowning. "Are they always such voyeurs? It's not very nice, you know."

Harry was still in mild shock, staring at the blond with wide eyes. "I have to go talk to them." He unraveled the blankets, searching for his clothing at the same time. When he found them he rounded on his lover. "Well, get dressed. I'm not going down there alone." The blond sighed and started dressing reluctantly as well.

In a few moments both were completely dressed and Draco had ventured into the bathroom attached to the bedroom. "I'm not going down there looking like this." He had ignored Harry's impatient grunts and started opening wooden cabinets. Fifteen minutes later, he came out, startling his lover.

His blond hair seemed like real silk and fell around his face in loose strands, his eyes were highlighted with pitch black eyeliner, making his gray irises appear almost manila, and his lips were faintly toned with blackish brown. This, added to new clothing that must have been in the bathroom (tight black long-sleeved shirt, chained, baggy black pants that fell mid-calf, and what appeared to be black fishnets with platform black shoes), made him seem like an angel of death. Beautiful and deadly.

He purposely ignored the lustful look animating Harry's jaded eyes and started out. He paused and turned back. "Are you coming?" Harry nodded and followed silently, eyes narrowed on the Draco's back.

----------------

At the bottom landing Hermione and Ron were staring at each other in shocked silence. Ron had paled as much as was humanly possible and Hermione looked as if she was trying to rationalize with herself. When the two lovers came down the stairs, both Ron and Hermione looked sick from the way their best friend was staring at the blond, who was sickeningly decked out in sordid crossovers.

Fini Chapter Two