Threats and Promises

[lesyeuxverts]

Title: Threats and Promises
Author: lesyeuxverts
Beta: bridgetmkennitt
Word Count: 2900
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: This is an extremely belated fic for sansa1970's birthday – sorry it's so late! Started pre-DH, obviously, but not finished until now, because I am slow.


Severus Snape placed a hand on either side of Harry's face and leaned in close enough to kiss him. "Make no mistake," he said, spittle flying hard enough to hit Harry's cheek. "If you hurt him, I will make you regret it."

Harry blinked, and Snape was gone, disappearing into the swirl of robes on the dance floor. For a crow among peacocks, he was hard to track – he slipped among the dancers, weaving his way through to the shadows where his black robes faded in the obscurity.

"What was that about?" Ron passed Harry a glass of champagne and gave him a crooked grin. "It looked like Snape was trying to kiss you."

"I have no idea," Harry said, finishing the champagne in one gulp. He reached up to wipe his cheek clean and then grimaced at his wet fingers before scrubbing them clean on his trousers. "I have absolutely no idea."

Draco joined them then, leaning with one hand on the wall and brushing a speck of dust off his silver-gray robes.

Ron scowled at him, snatching another pair of champagne flutes from the table and handing one to Harry. "Get your family fortune back, ferret? Or did you have to sell something to buy those fancy robes?"

"Ron, don't –"

Ron stepped closer, spitting in Draco's face. "Did you peddle your body out in Knockturn Alley to earn the Galleons? How much is your skinny arse worth?"

Harry put an arm on Ron's chest, forcing him away from Draco. "Don't belittle the sacrifices that Draco made for us, all right? He did as much as you did in the war, and paid a higher price."

"How can you defend that dirty shirt-lifter? Merlin, Harry, you let him get close enough to touch you."

"You were close enough to touch him too, Ron. It's not a disease that you catch."

Draco grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him away before Ron could respond, pulling him out onto the balcony. He frowned when Harry veered off toward one of the waiters, and caught his hand before he could reach for another glass of champagne. "Haven't you had enough tonight?"

Harry glared at him, and Draco pulled him away. "You'll thank me for it when you wake without a headache tomorrow."

The night air was enough to clear Harry's head, and he leaned against the balcony rail, watching Draco perch on it. The silver-gray of his robes shone in the moonlight, outlining the graceful curve of his back.

"You should just tell him," Draco said. "He'll accept it, if it's you – he'll accept anything for you."

"Tell him what?" Harry asked.

Draco cleared his throat. "Don't play coy, I know you haven't had that much to drink. You should just go ahead and tell Ron that you're gay – when you're both sober enough to be coherent, that is. He won't make a fuss over it, not for you."

"What?" Harry grasped the balcony for support, his fingers white-knuckled in the moonlight. "Draco, I – I'm not – I'm not gay."

Draco froze, and then pushed his hair back over his shoulders, hopping off the railing. He smoothed imaginary wrinkles from his robes and stared at Harry for a minute. "I see," he said. "I – I'll just be going, then."

----

Harry saw Snape again at the next Ministry gala, caught up in a waltz with Draco. His breath caught in his throat – they made a beautiful couple. They moved smoothly together, their movements coordinated until they saw him.

Snape steered the dance toward Harry, while Draco tried to move further away, fumbling his feet together and tripping over himself. Snape caught him, setting him back on his feet and bending to speak in his ear before whirling away.

He stalked through the pattern of the dance, sending the brightly colored dancers scurrying out of his way, and Draco stood, abandoned in the middle of the floor with the other couples twirling around him.

Snape reached Harry and grasped him by the upper arm, hauling him out onto the balcony. "How dare you," he said, his fingers digging into Harry's flesh to emphasize his point. "How dare you?"

Harry let Snape manhandle him, his head flopping as he was shaken. "What did I do?" he asked, one arm flailing up to grab Snape's wrist.

Snape shook him and released him, stalking away to glare over the balcony rail. "You expect me to know what passed between the two of you?"

"Nothing happened between me and Draco," Harry said, approaching Snape. "I haven't seen him in weeks – he's never around Grimmauld Place anymore."

"And you haven't looked for him?" Snape turned to loom over Harry, finding the sensitive nerve near his elbow and pinching. "What is your problem, Potter?"

Harry broke away from Snape. He went to stand by the railing, looking out over glittering London. "Well, he didn't want me anymore, did he? I argued the Ministry into releasing his beloved Manor and he was gone after that. That was all he was using me for."

Snape touched his shoulder, pushing him away from the railing. "I don't care what sort of idiocy you've committed, Potter, or what you've done to hurt Draco, but you will undo it or I will make you feel his pain tenfold. Do you understand?"

When Harry nodded, Snape released him, but then he stopped Harry before he could reenter the ballroom. "And Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Your defeat of Voldemort and your subsequent actions were not without merit. You did the right thing, restoring Draco's properties to him." Snape hesitated and then said, "Your father would not have done it."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now go, and do everything to repair the damage you've done to Draco. If he forgives you – well, I won't damage you too badly."

Harry said again, "Yes, sir," and went back into the ballroom, blinking to adjust his eyes to the bright light reflected off the marble floor and the glittering, ostentatious chandeliers.

Harry found Draco by the punch bowl, pouring himself an overfull cup, and Harry put a hand on his to stop him. "Just a guess, but I'd say that you've had enough already."

Draco turned to face him, taking a swig of the punch. "On the contrary, I'd say that I haven't had nearly enough for this conversation."

He was wearing the same gray robes, and his hair had been brushed out to a silken luster that matched them. Harry swallowed.

"You – you didn't really sell yourself to buy those robes, did you? I would have –"

Draco pushed past him, swaying on his feet. "I am no one's whore, Potter, and definitely not yours."

Harry caught his elbow. "I didn't mean it like that, I just – you're wearing them again."

"Yes, well." Draco straightened himself, looking Harry in the eye. "They were meant for a special occasion, but when that didn't turn out to be special, they became good enough to wear to common functions like this."

His mouth twisted into a sneer, Draco said, "And if you are too dense to understand that as well, then it's hopeless."

He watched Harry for a second and then turned on his heel, his robes fluttering around him as he walked away.

Harry gaped at his back and then caught up with him. "Draco, I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry, all right? Can't we be friends again?"

They were swept onto the dance floor by a clump of dancers, silk robes swirling around them and the music and laughter pushing them. Draco put his arms around Harry's waist, leaning into the dance and hiding his face. "We were never friends."

"No, we were," Harry said, stumbling as they turned. "Everything during the war, our lessons with Snape – we were great friends, the best. You were closer to me than Ron, even."

"Potter," Draco said, looking at him again, "you're the stupidest Gryffindor that I've had the misfortune to meet."

Harry tightened his arms around Draco, keeping him from fleeing. "Does that mean that you'll explain my mistake to me?"

"There's nothing to explain."

Draco waited until they neared the edge of the dance floor and then he stepped on Harry's toes, taking the opportunity to escape. Yelping, Harry limped after him, but was too slow to catch him before he Apparated away.

----

The silence of Grimmauld Place was shattered by Snape's bellow. "Potter, get down here now."

Harry didn't stir from the library, where he sprawled on the sofa, his head on Hermione's lap. Snape burst into the room, turning red when he saw them.

"So this is what it's all about," he said, hauling Harry up by his collar. "You pretended to be innocent, you little tramp – and all this time you've been sleeping around."

Harry squeaked, his breath cut off by his collar, and claws his way out of Snape's grasp. "What?"

"What?" Hermione echoed, blinking. "If you're accusing me of sleeping with anyone other than my fiancé, I know a hex or three that I can –"

"Enough," Snape said, his eyes glittering. "Granger, you've some small hope of being coherent. Tell me what's happening here."

She rubbed her eyes and studied him. "You have Draco's best interests at heart," she said, and he nodded.

"Well, I have Harry's, and I won't let Draco hurt him anymore. Harry has been shattered, what with Draco rejecting his friendship, and –"

"Miss Granger," Snape said, offering his hand to her. "I think that the two of us, with the benefit of perspective and communication skills, might be able to sort all of this out." He glared at Harry as he pulled Hermione from the room, and Harry flopped back on the armchair, letting his head bang against the leather.

Hermione found him there an hour later. "We're going to Malfoy Manor," she said.

"He doesn't want to see me," Harry said, digging in his heels.

"Nonsense," Hermione said, tugging on his hand. She shoved the pot of Floo powder in his hand. "He just wants a better apology. If in doubt, kiss him."

She pinched Harry's cheek. "You're going to be so much happier, Harry. The Floo password is griffin."

Harry felt his cheeks heat. "What, Hermione? Kiss him? What are you –"

Hermione shoved him into the Floo, throwing the powder onto the fire and calling out the direction herself.

Harry spun through, falling out into Draco's parlor and catching himself on the edge of the sofa where Draco reclined, head pillowed on his hand. He set aside his book, watching Harry.

"I – I'm sorry," Harry said.

"You've got soot all over the place."

"I'm sorry about that, too."

Hermione's words echoed in his ears, and he stared at Draco's lips. They looked soft, a pale hue that matched his complexion perfectly.

"I – you thought I was gay," Harry said, watching those lips twitch into a frown.

"Yes, I did. Did you feel some pressing need to highlight my misapprehensions and deepen my humiliation?"

"And you're gay, too," Harry said. "So you thought –"

"I thought that you were being noble and waiting until the war was over, all right? I'm sorry if you think I – if you –"

Draco rose, flushed and pretty. He pointed at the fireplace with a hand that did not tremble. "You know the way out, I trust."

"Draco –" Harry stumbled over his own feet, falling into Draco and sending them both falling onto the sofa. He grasped Draco's shoulders, his thumbs leaving pink marks on Draco's collarbones.

"You've no idea how much I've missed you," he said, and kissed him.

Draco lay unresponsive under him, and then when Harry swiped his tongue across Draco's lips, asking for entrance, he pushed Harry's legs apart, kneeing him in the groin. "Don't fuck with me," he said.

He fumbled on the coffee table, grabbing his wand and aiming it at Harry. "Get out, or I'll Stupefy you and throw you in the Floo headfirst."

Harry hesitated, and Draco added, "Without specifying a destination. Get out, you bastard."

Harry went, jumping into the Floo backwards and watching Draco through the green flames. "I'm sorry," he mouthed before Flooing away to Grimmauld Place.

----

The Gala to celebrate the three month anniversary of Voldemort's defeat was grander than all of the previous balls, with everyone still giddy with relief. Harry wore the robes that he'd worn to the first ball, and bit his lip when he saw Draco wearing a different outfit.

He was sparkling in Slytherin green, and he pushed his hair back over his shoiulder as he laughed with Snape. Harry's stomach clenched when he saw Draco accept Snape's hand and step out onto the dance floor.

Harry barreled through the crowd, stopping only when he reached Draco. "May I cut in?" he asked Snape, who weighed him with a look and then took a step back.

Draco took a step toward Snape, taking his hand. "No thanks, Potter – I don't fancy having my feet trod upon again."

"You stepped on my feet last time," Harry said, and after a moment, Draco nodded.

"So I did."

The crowd of dancers paused around them began to point and murmur, and Draco frowned at Harry. "Stop it, Potter. You're only making a fool of yourself."

"I don't care," Harry said. "I love you."

Snape gave Harry another long look and then pushed Draco into his arms. He strode off the dance floor, taking a position by a marble column, watching them with arms crossed and brows knit together.

Harry tightened his arms around Draco as the music resumed. "May I have this dance?" he asked, taking small careful steps and trying to avoid Draco's feet.

"Can I stop you?"

"If you really don't want …"

Draco stepped on his foot, smirking at his muffled yelp. "Merlin preserve me from Gryffindor stupidity," he said. "I know that I don't have to, Potter."

Harry smiled at him, blowing at a wayward tendril of hair that had slipped in front of Draco's face. It bobbed with his breath, and Draco grimaced.

"May I have this kiss, then?"

Draco stepped on his other foot. "You're straight, Potter, remember?"

Harry bent his head, nuzzling Draco's neck. "You smell nice," he said, "like something musky and spicy and –"

"It's called cologne, you barbarian," Draco said. He sneered, but his arms tightened around Harry's neck. "If you –"

"I love you," Harry said again. He watched Draco as they turned, and then leaned forward to kiss him.

Draco's lips were soft and yielding this time, his mouth opening for Harry. They kissed as they danced, half-deaf to the music – stepping out of time, and stepping on each other's feet.

"You're wearing new robes," Harry said. "They look good on you."

"What?" Draco asked, stiffening in his arms. "Are you just going to admire them? Aren't you going to ask me if I whored myself to pay for them?"

Harry pulled Draco closer, breathing in his spicy smell and using Draco's body to hide his erection from the rest of the dancers. "No, I'm just going to admire them," he said, pressing himself closer to Draco.

Draco bit Harry's earlobe and smiled at him, his lips even softer in that curve. "You aren't straight, are you?"

He shifted, his cock pressing against Harry's thigh, his fingers worked into the space between them and curled around Harry's hardening cock.

Harry bit his lip to catch a moan. "No, I guess not."

"Good," Draco said. "Let's get off the dance floor before we disgrace ourselves." He steered Harry out onto the balcony and they kissed again, their lips moving together in the silence and the starlight.

"Harry," Ron said, bursting through the double doors, Hermione hard on his heels, "please tell me that the blond git has you under Imperius, or that he slipped you a love potion, or something – anything."

Hermione grasped Ron's shoulder, pulling him back, and Snape stepped out of the shadows, his robes billowing around him.

He gave Harry and Draco a long look before turning to Ron. "Trust me, Mr. Weasley, if you do anything – anything at all – to jeopardize the happiness of this couple, you will spend the last of your days wishing that I had chopped you up and used your pieces in experimental potions. Is that understood?"

Ron nodded and fled, Hermione following him after she put a hand on Draco's shoulder and said, "If you do anything to make Harry unhappy, you will regret it – and I can be just as vicious and cruel as Snape."

Harry smiled at her and turned his back on Snape, framing Draco's face with his hands and leaning close enough to kiss him. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"If I promise not to do anything so stupid again, will you give me another chance?"

"You're a Gryffindor, Harry, you'll always be doing stupid things."

Harry hesitated, and before releasing Draco, he leaned into brush their lips together. He rested his forehead against Draco's, looking into his eyes before letting him go. "All right, then, I – I'll just –"

Draco grabbed him. "Just promise to love me, and I'll use my Slytherin cunning to work our way out of the disasters you create."

"I promise," Harry said, and while Draco pulled him close, he watched Snape slip away into the shadows, black fading into black.

Comments

[lesyeuxverts.insanejournal.com]

Thank you! So glad you liked it, hon! *snuggles* :D