Sand Castles & Fingerpaints
I've decided I'm not going to post my stories here until they're completed, so that if they're chaptered fics, I can post the chapters all in a row to make it less confusing.
The duo approached the relative safety provided by Remus, Kingsley and Tonks. “You’re certainly dedicated to making a spectacle of yourself tonight, Har,” Tonks greeted, changing her hair to silver and gold.
Draco found himself bristling on Potter’s behalf until Harry squeezed his arm lightly to indicate that he wasn’t offended.
“And you’d know quite a bit about making a spectacle of yourself, eh, Tonks?” he shot back with a chuckle. “Love the newest look, by the way. Very fitting.”
“Ah, silver and gold,” Draco noticed, lips twitching. “Any good grooming expert would tell you they’re not to be mixed.”
Harry winked at him. “Too late.” Leaning in slightly, he murmured confidentially, “The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin.”
Only good breeding kept Draco from shouting out his surprise. “What?” he hissed. Then, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” A pause. “And it certainly explains the multiple personalities.”
Harry elbowed him sharply.
“Hey!” Draco scolded. “How utterly uncouth. Your Gryffindor is showing.”
Their audience of three laughed openly at the duo’s comfortable bickering. “This is a surprise,” Remus said quietly.
“Not to you, Lupin,” Kingsley muttered. “You’re the one that stands to win the bet.” Tonks nodded her agreement.
“What?” Harry demanded. “What bet?”
They looked properly chastened. “You see,” Kingsley began tentatively. “Everyone in the Order has a bet going about how long it’ll take before the two of you can stand in the same room without wanting to hex each other. Aside from Remus, the earliest bet is five years from the end of the war.”
Horrified, Harry turned to Remus. “What’d you bet?”
“Six months.”
“The war ended three months ago,” Draco pointed out.
Kingsley nodded. “Yes, and here you are, not only acting civil, but seemingly enjoying each other’s company.”
Harry growled. “Well, I’m so sorry we turned out to be bigger people than you expected.”
“Harry,” Remus protested. “It wasn’t like that; it’s all in fun.”
At Harry’s downcast face, Draco glared wrathfully at the trio. “You were supposed to be the ones he could count on tonight,” he hissed.
***********************
“I need a drink,” Harry murmured, and Draco let himself be led to the refreshment table. There were several different selections, both alcoholic and nonalcoholic. Harry went straight for the Firewhisky and poured two shots. Handing one to Draco, he raised his in a toast. “To the assassin and the antihero,” he muttered. They clinked glasses and simultaneously downed the burning liquid.
“I can’t believe I’m drinking something as plebian as Firewhisky,” Draco complained. “My ancestors are turning over in their graves.”
Harry poured them each another shot. “That’s fucking fascinating, Malfoy, really, but…” He waved the glass tantalizingly back and forth in front of Draco’s eyes until the ex-Slytherin sniffed haughtily and took it.
“Are you trying to get me sloshed and take advantage, Potter?” Gray eyes met green in challenge.
“Hell yes,” Harry exclaimed breathily, and then burst out laughing.
Draco smirked, letting his gaze pass heatedly over Harry’s body. “Well, now that we’ve got that sorted, let’s go visit with Severus, shall we?” He indicated the dark corner where Snape had hidden himself to glower freely at the proceedings. “He looks rather lonely.”
Harry snorted and agreed. “Sadly, there’s no one in this room I’d rather see.” He grabbed the bottle of Firewhisky and a third shot glass, studiously ignoring Draco’s censorious expression at his uncivilized behavior. They knew all eyes were on them as they approached the Potions master, but the heady burn of alcohol helped the significance fade into the background.
Snape watched them with a raised brow as they plopped themselves down at his table. “Lord Potter, Lord Malfoy,” he sneered witheringly.
“Sev,” Harry greeted equably, causing Snape’s eyes to narrow dangerously.
“Ah, Mr. Potter,” he drawled. “Couldn’t resist playing hero tonight, could you?”
Draco interjected, “He prefers assassin, Sev.”
“Regardless,” Snape replied smoothly, “I wasn’t aware that I resembled a damsel in distress.”
Harry looked at Draco. “Is this still his way of saying thanks?”
“Actually, no. This is his way of saying, ‘I’m embarrassed as hell so I’m going to blame the nearest Potter.’”
“Ah.” Looking at Snape seriously, Harry murmured, “Would it make you feel better if you were to spank me?”
Snape blanched. “What?”
“Well, I’m a naughty student. I deserve to be punished.” Harry winked lecherously.
“Mr. Malfoy, an explanation if you would?” Snape demanded.
Draco chuckled. “I’d like to say it’s the Firewhisky, but somehow I doubt it.”
Harry plunked down the three shot glasses and filled them. Using his fingers to push the glasses in front of his companions, he murmured, “Bottoms up, boys,” and then leered at them both.
“Merlin, Potter, what’s gotten into you?” Draco wondered, nevertheless plucking up his glass. Snape reluctantly followed suit, and they downed the shots.
“I’m possessed,” Harry replied flippantly, fingering his shell necklace.
Draco considered his erstwhile nemesis for a long moment. “I like the necklace, Potter.” A pause. “It’s perfectly you.”
Green eyes burned into gray. “Oh, we definitely need to have sex,” Harry said huskily.
Draco’s entire body burst into flames at his words. Desperately recovering his inner cool, and ignoring the fact that Harry could bring him off by words alone, he drawled, “And the Gryffindor golden boy thinks he’s capable of showing me a good time?”
Harry leaned forward, and was about to answer, when Ginny Weasley approached their table with a defiant expression on her face.
“Harry,” she greeted, ignoring Severus and Draco. “We need to talk.”
He stood reluctantly, eying his companions. Draco’s stormy gray eyes pinned him momentarily, promising worlds, and then turned away. “Sure,” Harry said weakly, following her away from the table.
“Dance?” she suggested, grabbing his arms and making it mandatory. He fell uneasily into the steps of a slow song, and she wound her arms around his neck possessively. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured.
“Ginny…” he began, but she cut him off.
Dark brown eyes boring into his, she said, “The war is over, Harry. We can be together now; there’s nothing standing in our way.”
Harry felt badly. He should’ve been more honest with her sooner, but he’d been so fully immersed in the war that he hadn’t taken any time for self-reflection.
Assured that she was getting what she wanted, Ginny changed directions suddenly, “What were you doing with them, anyway? And what was with that grand entrance you made with Malfoy?”
Harry bristled at her tone. “I’m not going to let the Wizarding world brush off their pivotal contributions to the war just because the things they had to do weren’t pretty.”
“Harry,” she chided. “They’re both Death Eaters. Even as so-called spies, they did awful things. You can’t go back from that. And no one really knows what side they were on.”
“And what about me?” he demanded grittily. “Do I deserve to go to Azkaban because I blew out the back of Tom Riddle’s head?”
“What?” she asked, startled. “Of course not! You’re Harry Potter, the hero. You saved us.”
He glared. “So, because of who I am, I can get away with murder?”
“Harry, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Oh?” he questioned archly. “Everyone has this fantastic double standard about the war. I could’ve cast Crucio on a hundred Death Eaters, and most of the Wizarding world would applaud me for it. But, for Snape and Malfoy, whose information led directly to us winning the war, the same doesn’t apply. They were forced to act the part of Death Eaters to get that information, but we vilify them. They deserve Orders of Merlin, First Class, not me.”
Ginny sighed. “Look, Harry, I know you’re in mourning right now, and it’s affecting your behavior. But, I hope you come back to yourself soon.”
“I’m not in mourning!” Harry snapped, causing the people within earshot to turn and stare. “That’s not what my strange behavior is about!” He tried desperately to explain. “It’s about coming back to myself. Not Harry the hero, just Harry.”
Ginny ignored his words. “Look, Harry, let’s not argue. This is supposed to be a happy reunion for us.” She ran her fingers into his hair and he flinched.
“Can we go somewhere else and talk?” he pleaded.
She shook her head. “No, we can talk here. I don’t want to let you go, and I want everyone to see that you’re mine.” She smiled triumphantly.
“Please, Ginny?”
She giggled. “Nope. Just say whatever it is you need to say so we can spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms.”
Harry flat out refused to do this in public. Stepping away and placing a gentle hand on her elbow, he began to lead her firmly from the ballroom. “We need to talk first, and I won’t do it in front of these vultures.”
“I know you don’t like dancing, Harry, but you’re going to have to get used to it,” Ginny pointed out. “You’re the guest of honor at every celebration party, and now that the Wizarding world is getting back on its feet, we’ll be going out a lot.”
Harry sighed, saying nothing until they’d left the ballroom and entered the room spelled specially for the Order. Moving away from Ginny, he ran his hands through his hair, searching for courage. “I don’t mean the dancing. I mean this, us.” He paused, trying to figure out the most delicate way to proceed. “I don’t feel the same way I did before the war.”
Ginny furrowed a brow and took a step closer. “Of course you don’t, Harry. You went through a horrible experience. But, don’t let that get between us. I’m not in any danger by being with you now.”
Harry hesitated. “This isn’t about the war anymore.”
Suddenly afraid, Ginny asked, “What’re you on about?”
“The fact is,” Harry said softly, “my feelings for you are brotherly, Ginny. It’s possible that I’ve always felt that way, but I was too focused on the war to see it.”
“What?” she screeched. This certainly wasn’t how she’d imagined the reunion of the prince and his princess.
Harry took a deep breath. “I don’t want us to get back together, Ginny. It doesn’t feel right.”
Her eyes grew wide. “What are you saying?” she gasped.
“I think I just said it,” he pointed out gently.
Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t possible, Harry. Everything was perfect before we broke up, and that was for my safety.”
“Things weren’t perfect,” he disagreed. “You were convinced that we’re meant to be, and I do love you, so I assumed it was right. But I don’t love you the way I’m meant to.”
Ginny looked horrified. “You can’t mean that! We’re in love!”
“I’m not.” It was said simply, two devastating words.
She ran a distressed hand over the bodice of her dress. “I… I can’t believe it!” Then, she turned rabid. “I can’t believe you told me this here where hundreds of people are waiting for us to joyfully reunite!”
Harry stared, stupefied. “Why do you care about what they think? You seemed perfectly happy to have them all staring at us while we were dancing!”
“Well I didn’t know you were going to break up with me!” she shrieked. “I didn’t know you’d gone completely bloody insane!” She gasped in a breath. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Harry, but no one appreciates your little act! Living in the dregs of your dead parents’ house, while you fingerpaint the walls and make necklaces out of shells? No one buys it! You have responsibilities! You’re supposed to marry me, and take your place in Wizarding society. When you’re done with your little teenage rebellion, you let me know!” With that, she flounced out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.
The duo approached the relative safety provided by Remus, Kingsley and Tonks. “You’re certainly dedicated to making a spectacle of yourself tonight, Har,” Tonks greeted, changing her hair to silver and gold.
Draco found himself bristling on Potter’s behalf until Harry squeezed his arm lightly to indicate that he wasn’t offended.
“And you’d know quite a bit about making a spectacle of yourself, eh, Tonks?” he shot back with a chuckle. “Love the newest look, by the way. Very fitting.”
“Ah, silver and gold,” Draco noticed, lips twitching. “Any good grooming expert would tell you they’re not to be mixed.”
Harry winked at him. “Too late.” Leaning in slightly, he murmured confidentially, “The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin.”
Only good breeding kept Draco from shouting out his surprise. “What?” he hissed. Then, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” A pause. “And it certainly explains the multiple personalities.”
Harry elbowed him sharply.
“Hey!” Draco scolded. “How utterly uncouth. Your Gryffindor is showing.”
Their audience of three laughed openly at the duo’s comfortable bickering. “This is a surprise,” Remus said quietly.
“Not to you, Lupin,” Kingsley muttered. “You’re the one that stands to win the bet.” Tonks nodded her agreement.
“What?” Harry demanded. “What bet?”
They looked properly chastened. “You see,” Kingsley began tentatively. “Everyone in the Order has a bet going about how long it’ll take before the two of you can stand in the same room without wanting to hex each other. Aside from Remus, the earliest bet is five years from the end of the war.”
Horrified, Harry turned to Remus. “What’d you bet?”
“Six months.”
“The war ended three months ago,” Draco pointed out.
Kingsley nodded. “Yes, and here you are, not only acting civil, but seemingly enjoying each other’s company.”
Harry growled. “Well, I’m so sorry we turned out to be bigger people than you expected.”
“Harry,” Remus protested. “It wasn’t like that; it’s all in fun.”
At Harry’s downcast face, Draco glared wrathfully at the trio. “You were supposed to be the ones he could count on tonight,” he hissed.
***********************
“I need a drink,” Harry murmured, and Draco let himself be led to the refreshment table. There were several different selections, both alcoholic and nonalcoholic. Harry went straight for the Firewhisky and poured two shots. Handing one to Draco, he raised his in a toast. “To the assassin and the antihero,” he muttered. They clinked glasses and simultaneously downed the burning liquid.
“I can’t believe I’m drinking something as plebian as Firewhisky,” Draco complained. “My ancestors are turning over in their graves.”
Harry poured them each another shot. “That’s fucking fascinating, Malfoy, really, but…” He waved the glass tantalizingly back and forth in front of Draco’s eyes until the ex-Slytherin sniffed haughtily and took it.
“Are you trying to get me sloshed and take advantage, Potter?” Gray eyes met green in challenge.
“Hell yes,” Harry exclaimed breathily, and then burst out laughing.
Draco smirked, letting his gaze pass heatedly over Harry’s body. “Well, now that we’ve got that sorted, let’s go visit with Severus, shall we?” He indicated the dark corner where Snape had hidden himself to glower freely at the proceedings. “He looks rather lonely.”
Harry snorted and agreed. “Sadly, there’s no one in this room I’d rather see.” He grabbed the bottle of Firewhisky and a third shot glass, studiously ignoring Draco’s censorious expression at his uncivilized behavior. They knew all eyes were on them as they approached the Potions master, but the heady burn of alcohol helped the significance fade into the background.
Snape watched them with a raised brow as they plopped themselves down at his table. “Lord Potter, Lord Malfoy,” he sneered witheringly.
“Sev,” Harry greeted equably, causing Snape’s eyes to narrow dangerously.
“Ah, Mr. Potter,” he drawled. “Couldn’t resist playing hero tonight, could you?”
Draco interjected, “He prefers assassin, Sev.”
“Regardless,” Snape replied smoothly, “I wasn’t aware that I resembled a damsel in distress.”
Harry looked at Draco. “Is this still his way of saying thanks?”
“Actually, no. This is his way of saying, ‘I’m embarrassed as hell so I’m going to blame the nearest Potter.’”
“Ah.” Looking at Snape seriously, Harry murmured, “Would it make you feel better if you were to spank me?”
Snape blanched. “What?”
“Well, I’m a naughty student. I deserve to be punished.” Harry winked lecherously.
“Mr. Malfoy, an explanation if you would?” Snape demanded.
Draco chuckled. “I’d like to say it’s the Firewhisky, but somehow I doubt it.”
Harry plunked down the three shot glasses and filled them. Using his fingers to push the glasses in front of his companions, he murmured, “Bottoms up, boys,” and then leered at them both.
“Merlin, Potter, what’s gotten into you?” Draco wondered, nevertheless plucking up his glass. Snape reluctantly followed suit, and they downed the shots.
“I’m possessed,” Harry replied flippantly, fingering his shell necklace.
Draco considered his erstwhile nemesis for a long moment. “I like the necklace, Potter.” A pause. “It’s perfectly you.”
Green eyes burned into gray. “Oh, we definitely need to have sex,” Harry said huskily.
Draco’s entire body burst into flames at his words. Desperately recovering his inner cool, and ignoring the fact that Harry could bring him off by words alone, he drawled, “And the Gryffindor golden boy thinks he’s capable of showing me a good time?”
Harry leaned forward, and was about to answer, when Ginny Weasley approached their table with a defiant expression on her face.
“Harry,” she greeted, ignoring Severus and Draco. “We need to talk.”
He stood reluctantly, eying his companions. Draco’s stormy gray eyes pinned him momentarily, promising worlds, and then turned away. “Sure,” Harry said weakly, following her away from the table.
“Dance?” she suggested, grabbing his arms and making it mandatory. He fell uneasily into the steps of a slow song, and she wound her arms around his neck possessively. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured.
“Ginny…” he began, but she cut him off.
Dark brown eyes boring into his, she said, “The war is over, Harry. We can be together now; there’s nothing standing in our way.”
Harry felt badly. He should’ve been more honest with her sooner, but he’d been so fully immersed in the war that he hadn’t taken any time for self-reflection.
Assured that she was getting what she wanted, Ginny changed directions suddenly, “What were you doing with them, anyway? And what was with that grand entrance you made with Malfoy?”
Harry bristled at her tone. “I’m not going to let the Wizarding world brush off their pivotal contributions to the war just because the things they had to do weren’t pretty.”
“Harry,” she chided. “They’re both Death Eaters. Even as so-called spies, they did awful things. You can’t go back from that. And no one really knows what side they were on.”
“And what about me?” he demanded grittily. “Do I deserve to go to Azkaban because I blew out the back of Tom Riddle’s head?”
“What?” she asked, startled. “Of course not! You’re Harry Potter, the hero. You saved us.”
He glared. “So, because of who I am, I can get away with murder?”
“Harry, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Oh?” he questioned archly. “Everyone has this fantastic double standard about the war. I could’ve cast Crucio on a hundred Death Eaters, and most of the Wizarding world would applaud me for it. But, for Snape and Malfoy, whose information led directly to us winning the war, the same doesn’t apply. They were forced to act the part of Death Eaters to get that information, but we vilify them. They deserve Orders of Merlin, First Class, not me.”
Ginny sighed. “Look, Harry, I know you’re in mourning right now, and it’s affecting your behavior. But, I hope you come back to yourself soon.”
“I’m not in mourning!” Harry snapped, causing the people within earshot to turn and stare. “That’s not what my strange behavior is about!” He tried desperately to explain. “It’s about coming back to myself. Not Harry the hero, just Harry.”
Ginny ignored his words. “Look, Harry, let’s not argue. This is supposed to be a happy reunion for us.” She ran her fingers into his hair and he flinched.
“Can we go somewhere else and talk?” he pleaded.
She shook her head. “No, we can talk here. I don’t want to let you go, and I want everyone to see that you’re mine.” She smiled triumphantly.
“Please, Ginny?”
She giggled. “Nope. Just say whatever it is you need to say so we can spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms.”
Harry flat out refused to do this in public. Stepping away and placing a gentle hand on her elbow, he began to lead her firmly from the ballroom. “We need to talk first, and I won’t do it in front of these vultures.”
“I know you don’t like dancing, Harry, but you’re going to have to get used to it,” Ginny pointed out. “You’re the guest of honor at every celebration party, and now that the Wizarding world is getting back on its feet, we’ll be going out a lot.”
Harry sighed, saying nothing until they’d left the ballroom and entered the room spelled specially for the Order. Moving away from Ginny, he ran his hands through his hair, searching for courage. “I don’t mean the dancing. I mean this, us.” He paused, trying to figure out the most delicate way to proceed. “I don’t feel the same way I did before the war.”
Ginny furrowed a brow and took a step closer. “Of course you don’t, Harry. You went through a horrible experience. But, don’t let that get between us. I’m not in any danger by being with you now.”
Harry hesitated. “This isn’t about the war anymore.”
Suddenly afraid, Ginny asked, “What’re you on about?”
“The fact is,” Harry said softly, “my feelings for you are brotherly, Ginny. It’s possible that I’ve always felt that way, but I was too focused on the war to see it.”
“What?” she screeched. This certainly wasn’t how she’d imagined the reunion of the prince and his princess.
Harry took a deep breath. “I don’t want us to get back together, Ginny. It doesn’t feel right.”
Her eyes grew wide. “What are you saying?” she gasped.
“I think I just said it,” he pointed out gently.
Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t possible, Harry. Everything was perfect before we broke up, and that was for my safety.”
“Things weren’t perfect,” he disagreed. “You were convinced that we’re meant to be, and I do love you, so I assumed it was right. But I don’t love you the way I’m meant to.”
Ginny looked horrified. “You can’t mean that! We’re in love!”
“I’m not.” It was said simply, two devastating words.
She ran a distressed hand over the bodice of her dress. “I… I can’t believe it!” Then, she turned rabid. “I can’t believe you told me this here where hundreds of people are waiting for us to joyfully reunite!”
Harry stared, stupefied. “Why do you care about what they think? You seemed perfectly happy to have them all staring at us while we were dancing!”
“Well I didn’t know you were going to break up with me!” she shrieked. “I didn’t know you’d gone completely bloody insane!” She gasped in a breath. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Harry, but no one appreciates your little act! Living in the dregs of your dead parents’ house, while you fingerpaint the walls and make necklaces out of shells? No one buys it! You have responsibilities! You’re supposed to marry me, and take your place in Wizarding society. When you’re done with your little teenage rebellion, you let me know!” With that, she flounced out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.