Nied is Not Enough

Chapter 13

The following Saturday brought a lively breakfast crowd to the Great Hall. The second game of the Quidditch season was upon them and Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. The oldest rivalry in the school was in full effect.

Harry and Draco sat with the other professors at the head table discussing the possible outcomes of the game.

"...All I'm saying, Professor Malfoy, is that the best team will win. I am not going to pick sides. I absolutely refuse."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, Potter. Just a little wager. It doesn't have to be much." Under the table, Draco was running his finger along the side of Harry's thigh.

"What if I win?" Harry tried hard to concentrate as the blond got painfully closer to the inside of his thigh.

//If you win, I'll be your slave for a whole fifteen minutes.//

Harry almost snorted pumpkin juice out of his nose. "A whole fifteen minutes? That doesn't give me much incentive to take you on." He chuckled as he wiped the juice from the front of his robes.

"Twenty?"

"No."

"An hour?"

"No, Draco."

"Two hours?"

"Stop." Harry looked casually around the Great Hall. He swirled the juice in his cup and took a drink. Draco sat up as straight as he could and looked away, his bottom lip protruding aver so slightly.

"Pouting does not become you, Malfoy."

Draco glanced at him and looked away again.

After a deep sigh, Harry dropped his shoulders and said, "Alright. If I place this wager with you, and if I win, you have to take me out to dinner. Someplace nice. Not Hogsmeade. And you have to wear Gryffindor colors when we go out and you have to dance with me."

Draco turned his head away from the ex-Gryffindor. He clenched his jaw tightly. He tried to hide the small grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He turned to face Harry with out any trace of a smile. "Such a romantic, Harry. And if I win, you have to bend to my will for an entire day." //Which means anything I want. Anything...//

Harry received a few mental images from Draco, which made his cheeks burn. "Fine. I bet that the best team wins."

"Oh...no, my little vague friend. You have to choose a team to win."

"I already did."

"Really? And where was I when you chose a team?"

Harry took another sip of pumpkin juice. "You haven't been listening, Malfoy. I said that the best team will win. I have been watching all the house teams practice and Gryffindor will win. It has nothing to do with the fact that it is my former house. They are simply a better team." He felt quite arrogant at this moment.

Draco was nearly seething. Few things in the world could frustrate him to the point of speechlessness. Harry Potter was one of those things.

"I suppose I'll be seeing you in the stands later? That is unless you're afraid to actually see our team get slaughtered." Harry squeezed Draco's thigh under the table and gave it a quick pat. Sufficiently in control of the situation, he continued. "Oh, and by the way," he leaned next to the blonde's ear and whispered, "I think you'll look great in red."

Harry stood and smirked at the blond. He escaped through the door behind them before Draco could say a word.

Harry had been watching the teams. What he failed to mention to Draco was that the Slytherin team was a better offensive team, but the seeker was no match for Gryffindor's. He knew it was cheating a bit, but he was a Slytherin now and after seeing the images Draco sent him, he figured having the upper hand wasn't such a bad idea in this case.

He returned to the entrance hall with his long leather coat. Most of the students were headed toward the pitch laughing and waving house banners. It looked like a swarm of ants moving over the moors on Hogwarts' grounds.

Hermione and Draco were already sitting in the teacher's stands when Harry arrived. Harry could tell Draco was still upset by the conversation they had at breakfast but sat by him anyway. Draco looked at him and turned to Hermione to continue their conversation.

"Lovely day for a Quidditch match, don't you think?" Harry said to no one in particular. //Draco...//

"Yes, it's quite lovely," Hermione chirped.

"So much sunshine today." //Draco, come on. I was just bantering with you...//

Draco stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge Harry's mental comments. Hermione looked at the two of them and grinned.

As expected, the game was quite exciting. Every time Slytherin scored (which was quite often), Draco became more outwardly smug. Harry smiled on the inside, knowing full well who was going to win.

Slytherin was up 140 points. Harry began to get a little worried. Come on, Boughton, find the snitch.

"Another ten points to Slytherin!" A voice boomed over the pitch.

Harry's palms began to sweat as he received an image of himself covered in strawberry jam and Draco licking it off. The crowds were screaming and Harry's shoulders drooped. He received another image of himself tied to the head of a bed and Draco was teasing him by running a piece of ice over his abdomen.

Harry looked at the Slytherin with shock. Draco could barely keep his grin contained.

Come on Boughton.

"Watson's got the quaffle...hang on...she narrowly misses a bludger sent by Vider...she's getting close and she's going for it...past Siegel! Gryffindor scores!"

Harry scanned the field for Jamie Boughton, Gryffindor's seeker. She was zooming toward the far end of the field toward the snitch. Seth Nolan, Slytherin's seeker, was flying carelessly around; not even noticing Boughton was well on her way to catching the snitch. She almost had her hand around it and Slytherin scored again. If she caught it, the teams would be tied.

"NOT YET!!!!!" Harry was out of his seat screaming at the top of his lungs. It was too late. The teams were tied. Harry sunk back into his seat. The snitch caught, the game over and either both men or neither one had won the wager.

Hermione was already on her way down the stands to find Ron who had just finished refereeing. The two sat in silence for several minutes.

"So I guess that means we both win, right?" Harry nudged the blond.

Draco slowly turned his head to look at him. "If you think I am going to wear Gryffindor colors and take you out, you are sorely mistaken. Good day, Mr. Potter." And with that, Draco was down the stairs leaving Harry by himself.

//Draco?...//

There was no answer. Damn.

Harry thought it best to let Draco simmer down for a while and didn't bother him. It seemed as though the game had really upset Draco. Instead, Harry joined Ron and Hermione in Hogsmeade for a quick lunch and some mindless wandering.

The Three Broomsticks was quite full of rowdy folks, mostly those returning from the game who had been cheering for their old houses at Hogwarts. Harry found Hermione tucked away in a back booth as Ron clanked his mug with several drunken patrons.

"He hasn't changed all that much, has he?" Harry shouted to her.

She shook her head and shrugged while pointing at her ears. Harry quickly murmured a silencing spell, blocking out the noise around them.

"I said, he hasn't changed much," pointing at the redhead. Hermione rolled her eyes in agreement. Ron was now standing on a chair, waving his mug around while leading the group in a Quidditch song.

"Sometimes, I wish I could talk to him subconsciously so I could yell at him right now."

Harry gave her a slightly sad look.

"He just never can seem to get over himself. He is ridiculous, you know?"

"He'll come around. Just wait."

"Harry, I have been waiting for a long time. He's not going to change. He loves the attention, the girls gushing around him all the time, the pats on the back for being the star Quidditch player, blah, blah, blah."

"But when it's just the two of you, how is he?"

Hermione looked at Ron who was bringing three mugs of butterbeer through the crowd and to their table. "When it's just us, he's a completely different person." Her eyebrows crossed in thought and she smiled. "You're right."

"You really can't expect him to change who he is. He will always be Ron-the-oblivious-attention-loving-beer-drinking-red-headed-mut."
" Again, you're right, Harry. I love him for it." She smiled at Ron who grinned sincerely back at her from a few feet away.

These two are ridiculously schmoopy. "Ron...thanks for the drink."
"No problem, mate." He sidled up against Hermione and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. She blushed heavily and looked at Harry while trying to shoo Ron away.

Harry held his mug up at the center of the table. "What should we drink to?"

"Being alive," Hermione winked at Harry.

"Playing the game." Ron held up his mug.

"To whatever lies in store for us." The three clinked mugs and took sips.

"So, Harry, you've been looking better recently. Who is she?" Ron asked.

Harry wasn't quite sure how to answer. He hadn't really thought about telling Ron. He honestly had no idea how his old friend would react. "Erm, what do you mean?" Harry looked at Hermione for support. She bit the corner of her mouth.

"What do I mean," Ron chortled. "What I mean is that you look a hell of a lot better than you did when we first got here. You actually come out of the Dungeons and you are blushing right now. Who is she?"

"I'm not seeing a woman, Ron." Deep breaths. You are going to have to tell him eventually. Harry held his mug with both hands. He brought it to his lips and drained it of its contents.

"Okay, mate. Who is he?"

For the second time in a day, Harry snorted his drink out of his nose. Ron sat back against the booth with his most ridiculous 'I-got-you' grin. Hermione was reaching across the table trying to clean Harry off a bit, their hands running into each other. He looked at her in quite a terrified way. She simply nodded reassuringly and silently mouthed, "you can tell him," before sitting back down.

Sufficiently cleaned up, Harry looked at his old friend who was motioning the barmaid to bring three more drinks. He tried his best to sit up straight and look Ron in the eyes.

"I, erm, well..." Harry felt his mouth become extremely dry and his palms were sweating. "I have, erm, been spending time with Draco Malfoy." He looked squarely at Ron as he spoke.

"Figured as much."

Much to Harry's surprise, there was very little tension except from himself. Ron paid for the three new butterbeers and took a sip of his.

"For how long?"

"For a little bit."

There was a moment of tense silence before Ron leaned forward to Harry. "If he hurts you, Harry, I'll kill him."

"Um, thanks, Ron." Harry looked quite confused. He wasn't quite sure if that was a blessing or what. "Just, one question though...you're not upset?"

Ron shook his head. "Naw, mate. I spent several years on a professional Quidditch team. At least half of those players were gay. Never interested me though."

Harry was having difficulty believing the ease at which Ron spoke about it. Hermione seemed to have disappeared into her corner of the booth.

Ron continued, "I swear, though. Some days, it was like living with a bunch of girls."

Hermione sat up and whacked him on the arm. "Hey now."

Harry chuckled a bit, much more at ease that he thought he would be.

The rest of lunch went by without much talk about his relationship with Draco. Ron really didn't seem to mind about it at all. Harry silently drank his last sip of butterbeer to his friends.

After lunch, Harry and Ron decided to check out the latest Quidditch gear while Hermione perused a bookshop.

In the Quidditch shop, Ron strapped a guard on his forearm and held it up. "Whadd'ya think?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Not bad."

Ron unbuckled it and tossed it aside. They talked about Quidditch and classes, teaching and politics as they poked around the store. The afternoon was wearing thin and the two decided to find Hermione.

As the door of the Quidditch shop shut behind them, Ron grabbed Harry by the forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

"About Malfoy, mate."

Harry began to feel nervous at the stern look Ron was giving him.

"I'm not sure if I'll ever really like the ferret, but if he's what's brining you back to life, I'm all for it."

Harry let out the breath he was holding. Maybe Ron wasn't as oblivious as Harry had thought.

"And I will kill him if he hurts you in any way. Got it?"

Harry felt a well of gratitude toward his friend. He had the urge to hug Ron right there in front of the Quidditch shop. His eyes stung a little and he hugged the man anyway.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting something, boys, but it's time we headed back." Hermione was walking across the road with a bag full of books.

The two men stepped apart rather quickly and gave each other a hearty pat on the shoulders. Ron huffed up his chest and Harry cleared his throat.

Without much thought, Ron took the heavy bag from Hermione and hooked her arm in his. The three headed back to Hogwarts laughing and carrying on like they used to.

Harry was feeling quite happy with his old friends and content with life when a huge eagle owl swooped down, dropping a letter in their path.

"That's a bloody big bird!" Ron said as the eagle owl flew back toward the castle.

Harry bent down and picked up the letter that was addressed to him.

Mr. Potter,

If you are quite finished playing with your friends, I believe we have a date. That is, unless you would like to call the wager a draw.

I will expect you in the hallway of the Dungeons at precisely seven-thirty. You will need to wear something nice as we are not bothering with anyplace less than the best. No Robes.

Sincerely,

D. Malfoy

Harry sent Draco warm thoughts and headed quickly to the castle with his friends. He made arrangements with Hermione to watch the Slytherin House while he and Draco went wherever they were going. Ron humphed and stomped until Harry told him that he could stay with Hermione as well. "No funny business, you two."

"This'll be great, mate! I can torture all the Slytherins." Ron looked decidedly pleased until Harry cut him short.

"These are my students, Ron. You are a teacher. Just remember that."

Ron kicked at the floor in the entrance hall, good-naturedly mumbling under his breath about the bloody Slytherin house taking all the fun away.

They decided to meet Harry at the entrance to the Dungeons at 7:25, which left them about an hour and a half. Harry hurried to his rooms to ready for his date.

It didn't take him nearly as long this time as it did the last time, although choosing something to wear was a difficult task. After much deliberation, he decided on a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of well-fitting dark gray slacks. He ruffed up his hair, noting that the current style was that 'just-out-of-bed-look.'

As he stood in the mirror, he looked carefully at his appearance. The dark areas under his eyes were nearly gone. He had been sleeping soundly, not constantly reliving the war. The skin on his face had a healthier color, the wrinkles between his eyebrows were less noticeable, and his face had become slightly fuller. This damn Hogwarts food. He grinned and noticed something about himself he hadn't seen in years: behind his glasses, his eyes were brighter, sparklier. Against the black of the turtleneck, his skin was almost creamy and his eyes looked vibrant. He took a step closer to the mirror to examine himself more closely. The green had flecks of yellow and silver. There was wisdom behind those eyes; empathy and understanding. His eyes were a nice shape; quite large and round. He took off his glasses and put his contacts in.

He ran his hands over the skin on his face. It was smooth and flawless, except for the scar. He'd seen it so many times before; it was just not interesting. He ran his index finger over the outline, remembering who put it there, why it was there, and the suffering it brought him. He covered it with his palm and decided to look at the scar a different way. He took a deep breath and moved his hand. Instead of letting it remind him of the horrors he witnessed, he thought about his introduction to the magical world, the friends he'd made, the challenges he'd overcome, and the importance of his role in this world. He thought about his abilities, both learned and natural. He thought about the scar on Draco's chest and how they were connected by it. Another grin.

Without much thought, he pulled the turtleneck sweater over his head, revealing his upper body. He ran his fingers over the puckered scars on his chest, feeling each one individually. They give me character. He thought for a moment, and then tilted his head to the side. If he looked at the scars a certain way, they lined up like the constellation Orion. The Warrior.

He stood up straighter and took a deep breath as he looked at himself. He slowly unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. They fell to the floor at his feet. He kicked them off and stood away from the mirror to see the length of his body. His legs were quite well shaped; muscular and long. He turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder. He embarrassedly decided his ass wasn't so bad either. He could see the muscles under the skin on his back moving sinuously. The scar, which rounded his left shoulder, was visible and he skimmed it with his hand. Just another part of me...

He faced the mirror again, running his hands over his strong abdomen and chest. He felt the muscles in his arms and enjoyed the way they shifted under the skin. Harry quickly glanced over his shoulder to the sitting room and looked back in the mirror. He lifted his hands up and flexed his arms. He crossed his hands in front of him and flexed his chest muscles. He laughed at the ridiculousness of himself and rolled his eyes. You're not bad, Potter... he told himself as he pulled his pants back up and drug the sweater over his head.

He ran his hand through the shiny black mane once again as there came a warning from his privacy wards that someone was at his door. He rummaged around his room looking for his shoes and socks.

He flung the door open much to Ron and Hermione's surprise. They broke apart, both red faced from being caught in the midst of a quick snogging session.

"Oh, erm, hi..." Hermione managed to meep. Ron just nodded to Harry in acknowledgement. Harry just started laughing as Hermione hit Ron on the chest with the back of her hand. She straightened out her robes and pushed her way between the two men, obviously embarrassed at the situation.

Ron wasn't nearly as embarrassed and gave a hearty chuckle himself as Hermione sat down in front of the fireplace. "Oh, Harry, I meant to tell you earlier," Hermione breathed out. "I found out some pretty interesting stuff about the Wolfe women." She was looking directly at Harry and ignoring Ron's pathetic attempts to gain her attention.

"I don't have time right now, but you can tell me later. Okay?" Harry was quite interested, but time just wouldn't allow the conversation to go much further.

"But Harry, they are all purebloods and you might want to hear this before you go tonight." She almost seemed to be pleading with him. "Please...just a few minutes?"

Harry was almost compelled to stay, but shook his head no. Something wouldn't allow him to listen at the moment. "Now, you two...be good. Don't wait up. And no funny business," Harry said as he gathered his coat and left the room. As he closed the door, he could hear Hermione's temper begin to flare.

"Ronald Weasley...You told me... that no one would catch us...don't even try to explain..."

Harry could see why Ron adored the woman: she was just like his mother. Harry reset the wards around his rooms and walked toward Draco's door.