Fic: The Handsome Stranger (Part 4 of ?)
Summary Harry receives an invitation to dinner.
Warnings Fluff ... lots and lots of fluff ... and sweetness ... so much sweetness you'll need to clean your teeth. Oh, and later there will be smut, but not yet. Rating Possibly PG-13.
The Handsome Stranger
Chapter Four ... Invitation
The owl was sitting on the windowsill when Harry woke up. It had clearly been waiting patiently for some time and the moment it realised Harry had stirred, it began tapping on the glass.
Harry peered at it for a few seconds before finally reaching for his glasses to bring the creature into focus. It tapped harder as if trying to peck a hole. “Okay, I’m coming.”
Swinging his legs to the floor, he scratched idly at himself before padding across the bedroom. He was naked, but no one was there to notice and five floors up from the London streets meant there were no prying eyes either. He opened the window and moved aside to let the owl in.
The bird spread its wings, gave an annoyed hoot and glided across the room to land on the footboard of the bed.
“You’ve come to the wrong room if you want treats.” Harry petted the bird’s head and untied the offered message. The parchment envelope had his name on one side and on the other was what he remembered as the Malfoy seal. He hadn't realised he’d squeaked until the owl squawked back. “But there are treats downstairs. Be careful if Hedwig’s there, she doesn’t like strangers.”
He sat on the edge of the bed turning the envelope over and over; Draco had written to him. He’d been thinking about the man ever since lunch two days ago. In fact, he’d even wanked to the image of Draco leaning on the pub table and saying, “Do you kiss on the first date?”
Surely you don’t say things like that unless you’re chatting someone up.
Surely Draco had been coming onto him.
Taking a steadying breath he finally broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out a small card. How typical that Draco would already have embossed cards with the Squirrel’s Leap address on them. Harry turned it over and grinned. Draco was inviting him to dinner on Saturday evening. The invitation might be a little formal, but that was probably just the Malfoy way.
Dinner at Squirrel’s Leap.
Quiet.
Friendly.
Intimate.
****
As the owl flew off with his reply, Harry showered, dressed and made breakfast. Hedwig was sitting on top of a cupboard with her back to him, clearly miffed with the other bird eating her treats. She refused to come down even when he offered her bacon.
Waiting for the tea to brew Harry tried to work out why he was suddenly so infatuated with Draco Malfoy. After all, he’d hardly thought about the man since he’d disappeared to Finland so why should Draco’s return have punched so many buttons?
He idly stirred sugar into his tea and finally admitted he’d been infatuated for years and years. Right back to his sixth year at Hogwarts when he’d followed Draco around on the pretext of trying to find out what he was up to. It probably went back before that as well. If he were honest with himself, he’d had to admit to often wondering what Draco was up to in the years he’d been away. And hadn’t Ginny once told him that he had a thing for blonds?
But there was still the question of Draco’s sexuality and whether he would be appalled if Harry actually plucked up the courage to kiss him.
There was a flutter of wings and Hedwig, finally having forgiven him, arrived for her breakfast. He stroked her soft feathers. “It’s story reading at the school this afternoon. I thought I’d read The Owl Who Was Afraid of the Dark.” She pecked at him. “Ouch! I know you aren’t scared. Maybe you could join me. The children would love to see you.”
****
It was Ginny’s turn to put him up for the weekend, at least that was the message Hermione had left for him at the school. Harry wondered if there was a calendar somewhere that all the Weasley clan took turns in filling in. He could imagine the conversation ... “Well, he can’t stay with us next weekend, but we can take him the weekend after if no one else can” ... he really did need to find somewhere permanent to stay.
He was sitting in Ginny’s living room talking to her as Esmond cooked. Molly had been aghast that Esmond did all the cooking, but as Ginny pointed out her beloved husband was French and cooked much better than she ever could.
“So, who is he?”
Harry tried to look innocent. “What?”
She punched at his arm. “You’ve met someone. About time too.”
“It’s not like that, not really.”
"Do I know him?"
Aware of the heat building in his face, Harry finally nodded. “Well, he’s local.”
“Ohhh.” Ginny cuddled up to him and planted a congratulatory kiss on his cheek. “You could bring him here tomorrow night.”
“Actually....”
“We’ve all been invited to some housewarming dinner party at Draco Malfoy’s house....”
Harry felt his jaw drop. Party? We’ve all been invited?
“....so the house will be free. But then you’ve probably been invited as well. Harry, are you okay?”
****
The ‘intimate dinner’ Harry had spent hours contemplating actually consisted of at least thirty people, an exquisite buffet and enough small talk to power a small town.
Draco was the perfect host and Narcissa (for she had finally returned to Britain) the perfect hostess. She circulated, telling people how wonderful Finland was once you got used to the language, but how much she missed Britain in general and Malfoy Manor in particular. The Manor had been closed since the end of the war and she was already planning a grand Easter Ball when the refurbished building would rise, like a phoenix, to stun the Wizarding world.
Harry listened and wondered if Draco actually knew he was even there. He spent his time looking at the few people he didn’t know and wondering if one might be Draco’s wife. Surely Draco would have introduced her if she was here, perfect host that he was.
He was just wondering whether he could leave without anyone noticing, when he saw someone watching through the banisters halfway up the stairs. It was Arlen. Careful so not to scare the child, Harry walked towards the stairs but remained on the other side of the banisters.
“Hello.”
The thumb went automatically into Arlen’s mouth, the other hand holding a banister upright.
“It’s a bit noisy isn’t it?” A little nod. “You must be glad you grandma’s here.” A shrug. “Oh.” Harry reached for an upright. “I bet you wish they’d all go home.”
Arlen nodded. “Daddy promised me a story.”
“Really?” So Arlen was Draco’s son. He glanced to where Draco was currently listening to an animated and rather tipsy Molly Weasley. “You were at the school yesterday when I read for the class.”
The boy finally stopped sucking his thumb and smiled. “You’ve got an owl.”
“Yes. Would you like me to read to you?”
Arlen shrugged, the gesture so typical of Draco that Harry was automatically transported back to his early years at Hogwarts. “If you want.”
“Okay.” Harry followed the boy to a bedroom in the eves of the house. He recognised it from when he’d thought to buy the house. The room had exposed beams and the little windows looked out over the back garden to a small orchard. “Here.” Arlen handed him a book.
Harry smiled at the choice and waited as the boy clambered into his bed. There was a rocking chair in the corner and he made himself comfortable. “Ready?” Arlen nodded, sucking on his thumb again. “The Night Before Christmas ... or A Visit from St Nicholas. ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse....”
****
Beside the open bedroom door, Draco listened. He would like to stay and hear the whole story, but he had guests. Maybe next time. With a smile on his face, he crept away.
****
“Harry.”
Struggling to fasten his cloak, Harry looked up to find Draco just a few feet away. “Hi.” He continued fiddling but now his fingers refused to do anything. “It was a nice party.”
“Here, let me.” Long fingers reached for the clasp. “I’m sorry we didn’t get chance to talk."
Harry forced a smile. “That’s okay. Next time maybe.”
Draco nodded and smoothed a fold on the front of the cloak. “You never answered my question.”
“Um, which one?”
“Kissing on the first date?”
The smile this time was more honest and definitely not forced. “No, I don’t kiss on first dates.”
“Then when?”
“Oh, on the third. If it’s a good date there might even be tongues.” Harry didn’t know what on earth possessed him to say that and he could already feel his cheeks pink with embarrassment. It must be all the drink, he decided.
“Okay,” Draco chuckled, the sound sending shivers right through Harry. “I’ll keep that in mind.” With that he reached for Harry’s hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it. “Good night, Harry. Pleasant dreams.”
---
Chapter Five ... Justin’s Revelations
Warnings Fluff ... lots and lots of fluff ... and sweetness ... so much sweetness you'll need to clean your teeth. Oh, and later there will be smut, but not yet. Rating Possibly PG-13.
The Handsome Stranger
Chapter Four ... Invitation
The owl was sitting on the windowsill when Harry woke up. It had clearly been waiting patiently for some time and the moment it realised Harry had stirred, it began tapping on the glass.
Harry peered at it for a few seconds before finally reaching for his glasses to bring the creature into focus. It tapped harder as if trying to peck a hole. “Okay, I’m coming.”
Swinging his legs to the floor, he scratched idly at himself before padding across the bedroom. He was naked, but no one was there to notice and five floors up from the London streets meant there were no prying eyes either. He opened the window and moved aside to let the owl in.
The bird spread its wings, gave an annoyed hoot and glided across the room to land on the footboard of the bed.
“You’ve come to the wrong room if you want treats.” Harry petted the bird’s head and untied the offered message. The parchment envelope had his name on one side and on the other was what he remembered as the Malfoy seal. He hadn't realised he’d squeaked until the owl squawked back. “But there are treats downstairs. Be careful if Hedwig’s there, she doesn’t like strangers.”
He sat on the edge of the bed turning the envelope over and over; Draco had written to him. He’d been thinking about the man ever since lunch two days ago. In fact, he’d even wanked to the image of Draco leaning on the pub table and saying, “Do you kiss on the first date?”
Surely you don’t say things like that unless you’re chatting someone up.
Surely Draco had been coming onto him.
Taking a steadying breath he finally broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out a small card. How typical that Draco would already have embossed cards with the Squirrel’s Leap address on them. Harry turned it over and grinned. Draco was inviting him to dinner on Saturday evening. The invitation might be a little formal, but that was probably just the Malfoy way.
Dinner at Squirrel’s Leap.
Quiet.
Friendly.
Intimate.
****
As the owl flew off with his reply, Harry showered, dressed and made breakfast. Hedwig was sitting on top of a cupboard with her back to him, clearly miffed with the other bird eating her treats. She refused to come down even when he offered her bacon.
Waiting for the tea to brew Harry tried to work out why he was suddenly so infatuated with Draco Malfoy. After all, he’d hardly thought about the man since he’d disappeared to Finland so why should Draco’s return have punched so many buttons?
He idly stirred sugar into his tea and finally admitted he’d been infatuated for years and years. Right back to his sixth year at Hogwarts when he’d followed Draco around on the pretext of trying to find out what he was up to. It probably went back before that as well. If he were honest with himself, he’d had to admit to often wondering what Draco was up to in the years he’d been away. And hadn’t Ginny once told him that he had a thing for blonds?
But there was still the question of Draco’s sexuality and whether he would be appalled if Harry actually plucked up the courage to kiss him.
There was a flutter of wings and Hedwig, finally having forgiven him, arrived for her breakfast. He stroked her soft feathers. “It’s story reading at the school this afternoon. I thought I’d read The Owl Who Was Afraid of the Dark.” She pecked at him. “Ouch! I know you aren’t scared. Maybe you could join me. The children would love to see you.”
****
It was Ginny’s turn to put him up for the weekend, at least that was the message Hermione had left for him at the school. Harry wondered if there was a calendar somewhere that all the Weasley clan took turns in filling in. He could imagine the conversation ... “Well, he can’t stay with us next weekend, but we can take him the weekend after if no one else can” ... he really did need to find somewhere permanent to stay.
He was sitting in Ginny’s living room talking to her as Esmond cooked. Molly had been aghast that Esmond did all the cooking, but as Ginny pointed out her beloved husband was French and cooked much better than she ever could.
“So, who is he?”
Harry tried to look innocent. “What?”
She punched at his arm. “You’ve met someone. About time too.”
“It’s not like that, not really.”
"Do I know him?"
Aware of the heat building in his face, Harry finally nodded. “Well, he’s local.”
“Ohhh.” Ginny cuddled up to him and planted a congratulatory kiss on his cheek. “You could bring him here tomorrow night.”
“Actually....”
“We’ve all been invited to some housewarming dinner party at Draco Malfoy’s house....”
Harry felt his jaw drop. Party? We’ve all been invited?
“....so the house will be free. But then you’ve probably been invited as well. Harry, are you okay?”
****
The ‘intimate dinner’ Harry had spent hours contemplating actually consisted of at least thirty people, an exquisite buffet and enough small talk to power a small town.
Draco was the perfect host and Narcissa (for she had finally returned to Britain) the perfect hostess. She circulated, telling people how wonderful Finland was once you got used to the language, but how much she missed Britain in general and Malfoy Manor in particular. The Manor had been closed since the end of the war and she was already planning a grand Easter Ball when the refurbished building would rise, like a phoenix, to stun the Wizarding world.
Harry listened and wondered if Draco actually knew he was even there. He spent his time looking at the few people he didn’t know and wondering if one might be Draco’s wife. Surely Draco would have introduced her if she was here, perfect host that he was.
He was just wondering whether he could leave without anyone noticing, when he saw someone watching through the banisters halfway up the stairs. It was Arlen. Careful so not to scare the child, Harry walked towards the stairs but remained on the other side of the banisters.
“Hello.”
The thumb went automatically into Arlen’s mouth, the other hand holding a banister upright.
“It’s a bit noisy isn’t it?” A little nod. “You must be glad you grandma’s here.” A shrug. “Oh.” Harry reached for an upright. “I bet you wish they’d all go home.”
Arlen nodded. “Daddy promised me a story.”
“Really?” So Arlen was Draco’s son. He glanced to where Draco was currently listening to an animated and rather tipsy Molly Weasley. “You were at the school yesterday when I read for the class.”
The boy finally stopped sucking his thumb and smiled. “You’ve got an owl.”
“Yes. Would you like me to read to you?”
Arlen shrugged, the gesture so typical of Draco that Harry was automatically transported back to his early years at Hogwarts. “If you want.”
“Okay.” Harry followed the boy to a bedroom in the eves of the house. He recognised it from when he’d thought to buy the house. The room had exposed beams and the little windows looked out over the back garden to a small orchard. “Here.” Arlen handed him a book.
Harry smiled at the choice and waited as the boy clambered into his bed. There was a rocking chair in the corner and he made himself comfortable. “Ready?” Arlen nodded, sucking on his thumb again. “The Night Before Christmas ... or A Visit from St Nicholas. ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse....”
****
Beside the open bedroom door, Draco listened. He would like to stay and hear the whole story, but he had guests. Maybe next time. With a smile on his face, he crept away.
****
“Harry.”
Struggling to fasten his cloak, Harry looked up to find Draco just a few feet away. “Hi.” He continued fiddling but now his fingers refused to do anything. “It was a nice party.”
“Here, let me.” Long fingers reached for the clasp. “I’m sorry we didn’t get chance to talk."
Harry forced a smile. “That’s okay. Next time maybe.”
Draco nodded and smoothed a fold on the front of the cloak. “You never answered my question.”
“Um, which one?”
“Kissing on the first date?”
The smile this time was more honest and definitely not forced. “No, I don’t kiss on first dates.”
“Then when?”
“Oh, on the third. If it’s a good date there might even be tongues.” Harry didn’t know what on earth possessed him to say that and he could already feel his cheeks pink with embarrassment. It must be all the drink, he decided.
“Okay,” Draco chuckled, the sound sending shivers right through Harry. “I’ll keep that in mind.” With that he reached for Harry’s hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it. “Good night, Harry. Pleasant dreams.”
---
Chapter Five ... Justin’s Revelations