Renovation in progress
Title: Renovation in progress for hd_cliche
Author: naturegirlrocks
Rating: R
Cliche: Draco helping Harry renovating Grimmauld place.
Words~ 4700
Notes: Sorry I'm a bit late. My wifi is not happy with me at the moment.
Harry looked up from the blueprint spread over the kitchen table when he head the single long ring of the doorbell upstairs. He glanced over at Ron who also had been standing leaned over the table.
“At least he's on time,” said the redhead.
“Did you doubt it?" asked Harry. "There's both money and pride involved."
“The guy has been away for over five years. I heard he swore never to return, and you get him here to help with only one owl.”
“What can I say? I'm a master of negotiation. That's why I'm payed the big bucks."
Ron rolled his eyes and returned to his measurements. Harry put his wand up his sleeve. He really didn't think hat he would need it, but it never hurts to be prepared.
He took the seven-step staircase up from the kitchen to the hallway in three large strides. The doorbell rang out again, this time somehow sounding more impatient.
“Keep your shirt on,” Harry called as he opened the door.
“I don't like waiting," Draco Malfoy pushed himself inside the house passed Harry. "And I don't like being here, so let's get on with it."
Harry was hit over the head with a black robe that obscured his sight and almost knocked his glasses off. When he managed to get free of it Malfoy was already on his way to the second floor. His legs and shoes disappearing at the top of the stairs.
"Come in, by all means," Harry huffed and hung the robe on a hanger. "Long time, no see. Come in let me help you with your robe..."
“Who're you talking to?” Ron came up from the kitchen and looked around the hallway. "And where's his nobs?"
"Upstairs," Harry pointed. "Didn't even bother to say hello."
"You want me to stay?"
"Nah, you get home. Don't forget the hardware store tomorrow."
"Nine-thirty right? I'll pick up up."
Harry was about to confirm when a sharp voice called him from the second floor.
“Potter! Are we doing this or not? And where am I supposed to sleep? Do you ever clean this dump?"
“Good luck," Ron patted Harry on he shoulder and left with a half-sympathetic grin.
Harry sighed, closed the door after his friend, and turned exasperated to walk up the stairs.
"Listen, Malfoy! I just need your blood to break some of the spells, if you want me to get it through a nosebleed that's all fine with me."
"You're going to need much more than blood from me if you're to fix up this place. This is..."
Malfoy stopped talking abruptly as he walked out of Harry's bedroom. Harry also stopped in his stride, unable to utter the sardonic worlds on his tongue. They looked at each other.
Harry tried to regain some of his senses, but it was hard. Malfoy had changed. He had always been handsome, but when had he become gorgeous? He's features seemed to have softened, even though the nose still came to a point. His hair was slightly longer, scruffier, devoid of any product. He was muscular in a slim sort of way that more showed the absence of fat than that of athleticism. And his eyes seemed bluer. Harry closed his mouth that he didn't even know he had open.
Malfoy straightened his back, giving Harry a once over.
“I see that Auror training is treating you well," he said, raising one blond eyebrow. "You are still short though. I'm taking this room."
“Th-that's my room," Harry's tongue started to untie itself.
"It's the only room that's clean. This place is full of stuff and boxes and more stuff. Dusty stuff."
"Thanks, I know. I'm renovating the whole house. That's why you are here. What did you expect it to look like?"
"You do know you are a wizard right? You can still do magic? Or is the great hero all tapped out?"
Malfoy's smirk did things to Harry's stomach that wasn't allowed to be done in this conversation.
“My magic is stronger than ever, Malfoy, so just watch it. And for your information, you can't build houses on magic alone."
"Malfoy manor was build on magic alone," huffed Malfoy, crossing his arms.
"Yes, and where is it now?"
Harry regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He saw Malfoy's face first turn white and
the red.
"That house stood for over five-hundred years until your followers brought it down," Malfoy's sharp finger stabbed hard against Harry's chest. "It would still stand today, just as steady as ever, if you had had even the slightest guts to stop them.”
Harry was almost mesmerised by the passion and angry sadness in Malfoy's face. If he had thought him gorgeous before...
"So I'm taking this room," Malfoy glared down at him. "Sleep in one of your dusty boxes, and if you have forgotten the spell to turn it into a bed then though luck!"
The door was slammed in Harry's face.
“So I guess we're not starting today?"
There was no answer.
"Can I get my toothbrush?"
"Wizard!" came a yell muffled through the door.
"A pillow?”
Harry could have sworn he heard something like a laugh, and he suddenly felt bold and mischievous.
"A kiss goodnight?"
"Go away, Potter."
This time there definitely a laugh.
Harry smiled and returned down to the kitchen and the blueprints. Though he had a difficult time concentrating, thinking about what was probably in his bed at this moment. He caught himself wondering if Malfoy slept in the nude.
Harry slept in one of the guest rooms that night, only bothering to spell the dust away before lying down.
////////////
In the morning Harry knocked on the door to his bedroom and entered without being given an answer, it was his room after all
He expected the room to look ransacked, but it looked cleaner and more orderly than ever. It was a sure sign that it had been ransacked.
Harry looked to the bed. Malfoy was indeed sleeping in the nude. On his side, leaning slightly forward, hugging the covers with arms and legs like it was a person. His pale hair ruffled over the pillow.
Long legs that could have gone on for days if not curving softly to a round backside suddenly stretched, making the foot Harry was staring at contort slightly and make soft cracking sounds.
"Do you often look at your guests when they are sleeping, or do you only save that honour for people you once tried to kill?"
Harry looked up the length of the smooth body. Malfoy was now sitting up, the covers hiding only his left thigh and genitals, though some tantalising hair was visible on the top of the right thigh and lower belly. There, on the lower belly, was the beginning of a red scar like a long caterpillar that searched it's way up over soft muscular skin crossing over the right nipple and ending just under the collarbone.
He met Malfoy's waiting blue eyes. Harry couldn't help but to nervously lick his lips.
"I'm sorry," he said.
It sounded flat. Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"Just do what you came in here to do and get out. There's a lot if work to do today."
"Right," Harry tore himself away from the vision on the bed and hurried over to his closet. "I just need a change if clothes. Ron's going to be here in an hour. We're going to the hardware store. Do you want to come?"
"No," Malfoy rustled the covers as he got out of bed, Harry kept his back firmly turned. "I was planning to look over the house and search for blood magic. I'll tell you this, Potter, you are lucky I'm still alive to bleed for you or this house would be better off being torn down."
"I know," Harry picked out a pair of jeans, fresh underwear, and a sweatshirt. "I actually considered it. But you ware still alive, so..." he shrugged. "It was worth a try."
"You sure know how to make a boy feel wanted," Malfoy huffed.
Harry could hear him leave the room and head off towards the bathroom. He turn around, hugging his clothes, the bed was impeccably made up. There were even decorative embroidered pillows on it that he knew for a fact had been packed in a box on the third floor. It made him feel uncomfortable.
Like this house was more Malfoy's than his.
During breakfast Harry explained the blueprints of the renovation to Malfoy. The other man was wearing impeccable a grey three-piece suit without the jacket, green tie, and rolled up white shirtsleeves. His forearms were unmarked, Harry pretended not to look.
"You can make notes on it if you want," Harry pointed to a room on the blueprint. "I've already marked out some of the spells and curses I found I need help with."
"Fine," Malfoy looked around the kitchen. "You know you should really get some house elves."
"Hermione would kill me," laughed Harry.
"You could pay them," Malfoy shrugged and took a dainty sip of his hot tea. "Free house elves basically work for food and board. They would even thank you for it. There are quite a few out there who has been unemployed since the war."
"I know..." Harry sighed.
They were interrupted by Ron arriving. He and Malfoy gave a cold exchange of each other's names and the continued to ignore each other. Malfoy left the kitchen soon after.
"I still can't see why you can't use Andromeda's blood, or even Teddy's," Ron said as they exited through the kitchen backdoor. "They are both of Black and Purebloods."
"Andromeda was disowned, the house knows that," Harry rubbed his neck. "Teddy's still too young. And since he is part werewolf there is a risk he will add on to the curses instead of breaking them. Malfoy is..."
He trailed off, thinking back to the way Malfoy's body had appeared that morning.
"What?" Ron had caught in the hesitation and was immediately suspicious.
"He has changed, hasn't he?"
"Bugger off!" Ron stopped in his stride, making Harry walk on a few steps before noticing. "You think he's hot! Harry! Seriously?!"
"Don't you?"
Ron made a disgusted face but seemed to consider it. He started walking again, Harry marched his steps.
"He's more of a prettyboy now than last I saw him, if that's what you mean. Though I think he's putting on an act about that."
"Why would he do that?"
Ron just gave him a pitying look. Harry felt confused.
////////////////
Harry returned home about three hours later, he was carrying several miniaturised bags that he unloaded and enlarged in the first floor living room. He called out for Malfoy but got no answer.
Shrugging, he took the bags containing kitchen stuff down stairs. He noticed several new markings on the blueprints over magical hotspots. He moved to look closer at them and was surprised to see that Malfoy had used Harry's own system of making notes.
He turned around when the backdoor opened and Malfoy entered followed by three small house elves each carrying a large box, the smallest elf carrying the largest box. Malfoy gave Harry a look over and a small smile as he directed the elves to place the boxes by the wall.
"What's going on?" Harry frowned and pretended not to look too intensely as Malfoy bent over to adjust the elves' grey waistcoats that they were wearing over different floral pillowcases.
Of course Malfoy noticed him looking anyway and soothingly adjusted his suit jacket as he stood back up. Harry had difficulty knowing which way to turn his eyes, but settled on going between Malfoy's face and the three elves.
"Just some paraphernalia and ingredients needed for the curse breaking. Don't worry, I put it all on your bill. These are Squeeze, Nubby, and their daughter Drub," Malfoy indicated the elves from the largest to the smallest. "They're going to be assisting me. You can of course ask them to help you as well if needed."
The elves gave Harry tentative and hopeful smiles and pulled awkwardly their waist coats.
"Oh," Harry looked them over. "Hello... guys."
"Greetings Mister Potter," said the three of them in unity, their high voices mixing.
Malfoy looked like a proud father, a very good look for him Harry noticed and looked away. Malfoy smirked again. He removed his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, leaving him in his selves again.
"What's in the boxes?" he asked to distract himself.
"All my worldly belongings," Malfoy was rolling up his sleeves, again displaying his smooth unmarked forearms. "I'm between residents at the moment since I just got back into the country."
Harry looked at the three boxes, even with wizard-space they wouldn't even contain a tenth of Malfoy Manor. Again he felt bad for Malfoy. The man had more rights to Grimmauld Place than Harry ever had. He wondered where Malfoy would live when his job here was done.
Malfoy gave him an amused once-over before turning to the blueprints. The three elves began whispering together.
"Let's start with the hearth," Malfoy moved over to the large fireplace and looked inside it, careful not to get soot on his clothing. "Since this is a frequently used entrance to the house I recommend protection- and security-spells."
"There is a difference?" Harry asked.
"I'll pretend you didn't ask me that,"
Malfoy bent down to his knees in front of the fireplace. He motioned to the male house elf, Nubby, towards one of the boxes. The elf made a squeaking noise as if he was honoured to be asked and hurried over to the box. He took up a old book about the size of his upper body and carried it over to Harry.
Harry took it and looked it querulously over. It had gold lettering almost rubbed of by age, but also newer damages like a tare in the binding and the trace of a mending-spell were it had been burned or scorched. Harry didn't dare to ask where it was from, but he had heard that parts of Malfoy manor had been ransacked and burned.
Malfoy placed both his hands on the flat stone.
"Page seventy-five," he said. "Read the spell over me, to the end, don't stop. Be ready if anything comes out and tries to disturb you, but don't stop reading until you get to the end. Or we'll have to do it all over again."
"Like what comes out?"
"The hearth has been protected by blood for centuries, how the hell would I know what's trapped inside?"
"Hang on, what, 'trapped'?" Harry asked but didn't get any answer.
Malfoy had already leaned forward and looked as he was going into a trance, or just slowly falling asleep. Harry wondered if it was an act, though the three house elves seemed seriously concerned. Harry pulled his wand.
The next moment he sensed the magic. He quickly opened the book to the right page, thankfully it was in English, sadly it was Old English in handwritten calligraphy. Harry squinted.
"Ye..."
The fireplace immediately spewed ashes in a large grey cloud over Malfoy and the kitchen. Harry was mostly saved by his position to the side of the eruption. The house elves began screaming and running around, trying to find wet cloths, brooms, and dusters.
"It's pronounced 'the'," Malfoy coughed and looked up at Harry disapprovingly through the grey dust covering his face and hair, his clear blue eyes looked almost unreal in the midst of the mess. "Clearly I overestimated you. As usual," he added as he spat out something black on the floor and curled his tongue in disgust.
He got up to his feet, stumbling a little as he did so. Harry reached out to catch Malfoy's hand and it closed hard around his.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just a bit dizzy. I was concentrating pretty hard. Ugh, it got up my nose!"
"I'm sorry. Maybe we should get Hermione over to read it."
"I'll write it out for you on paper," Malfoy smiled, his teeth were still white. "Lucky for you, we only need the one spell. You can let go now."
Harry looked down to see he was still holding Malfoy's hand. He let go, his hand itched a little at the loss.
Malfoy took out his wand and tried removing most of the dust on his clothing, but it seemed hard to come off. Harry noticed that the wand was the one that had belonged to Lucius, but he didn't mention it. Malfoy's original wand was in the Ministry of Magic's war exhibition.
Squeeze, the largest house elf, was trying to use her own magic to rub out some of the soot on Malfoy's trousers, she was doing marginally better. The other two were busy with the floor. The dust seemed much tougher that regular dust, Harry noticed. Malfoy sighed.
"It's not working," he gently pushed Squeeze away. "I need to take a shower, you can take this and see what you can do with it."
Then he started undressing, right there in the kitchen. Harry tried to opinionate but swallowed down his words as he watched Malfoy pull his tie off and drop it into the house elves waiting hands. Harry looked away, down on his own clothing. His sneakers were ruined. Without really thinking about it he stepped out of them, and thereby dirtying his socks as well.
Malfoy gave him an amused look.
"Let's try something easier next time," he gave his shirt down to Squeeze and started working on his belt-buckle. "Like the bogarts in the attic, or the pixies in the drawing room curtains."
"Yes," Harry was staring at the line on Malfoy's neck were the dust met the silky skin. "I can do that."
"You're so cute," Malfoy laughed as he leaned forward and kissed Harry on the side of his mouth.
He laughed again at Harry's stunned expression.
"Sorry," he said wiping away the soot he'd left on Harry's face with his even snootier thumb.
Harry wondered if he was saying sorry for the kiss or for the soot. He restrained the impulse to lick his lips and settled for just blinking like a loon.
Malfoy turned away and walked up the stairs, only wearing, Harry noticed, a pair of tight black briefs. Harry looked down at the three house elves who were staring up at him as if he was missing out on something very important.
"What?" he asked.
"Mister Potter is needing shower as well," said Drub, tightly holding on to a small broom and a dustpan.
"Squeeze can wash his clothes as well," said Squeeze. "Mister Potter can leave them with her."
"Master Draco is be needing help washing his hair," said Nubby more boldly.
Harry opened his mouth but, again, no words came out. He looked towards the stairs were Malfoy had disappeared and then down at the house elves again. They looked slightly irritated over how long it took him to connect the dots, as far as house elves could pull of that look. It only took him a moment to put things together. He pulled his sweater over his head and corrected his glasses that had become askew.
"Are you sure you can clean this by yourselves?" he asked indicating the sooty mess.
"Is our job, Mister Potter," grinned Nubby up at him.
Harry didn't need to be told more than twice, he stepped out of his jeans and socks, and followed Malfoy.
Outside the bathroom on the second floor he hesitated again. Then he knocked.
"Come in!" came Malfoy's voice from inside.
Harry slowly opened the door and peaked inside. The bathroom had been one of the first rooms he had managed to renovate so it was still sparkling with new white tiles and polished chromed faucets and handles.
Except it wasn't. The tiles were checkered off-white and black with a subtle hand-painted gold leaf pattern, the faucets and handles were polished silver. The frosted shower-stall seemed bigger and the towels seemed of a higher thread count than before.
"You redecorated," Harry looked around before his eyes landed in Malfoy standing in front of the mirror checking over the sooty damage of his face.
He wasn't wearing the black briefs anymore and his pale hip was casually leaning against the sink, making his left buttock slightly less tense. Harry didn't even try to look away.
"Wizard. Though it's simpler when the groundwork is done by hand, I'll give you that." Malfoy turned around to look over Harry appreciatively, stopping momentarily at the growing bulge in the red boxers. "You could move that wall and fit in a bathtub."
Malfoy's cock was about the size of his own, perhaps a bit more slender and of course surrounded by blond hair. It was half-hard, the slick pinkish head tantalisingly peaking out from the foreskin. Harry tried to think of something intelligent to say.
"I'm having a bathtub fitted in the back room downstairs, with a large window overlooking the garden," Harry felt like he was rambling.
"How very romantic of you, Potter," Malfoy stepped closer, the soot making his face look like it had been haphazardly ceremonially painted for a big heathen event. "You should tell me more. Later."
Harry's lips were caught in a real kiss this time. He opened up his mouth, letting Malfoy explore it with enthusiastic care. He was tasting the bitter soot, a sweet bitterness that was Malfoy, and a distant minty flavour that could be either candy or toothpaste.
"You taste like after a thunderstorm," said Malfoy with a sigh, eyes closed, and rubbing his nose against Harry's. "You taste like home and safety."
Harry had no idea what that meant but was reluctant to care since he felt a hand search its way firmly down the back of the lining if his pants, and another kiss on his lips. He placed his own hands on Malfoy's back moving them over the vast expansive of soft skin.
"Shower," breathed Malfoy. "I refuse to get any of this stuff inside me."
Harry was again slow to understand what Malfoy was implying, but it made very much sense when he was grabbed by the cock by a sooty hand left a clear handprint on the stretched fabric of his underwear.
Malfoy grinned dangerously and stepped inside the shower-cabin. Harry didn't loose time to remove his last restating garment and follow inside. He was welcomed by soft lips, groping hands, and a spray of slightly warmer than skin-temperature water. He had no objection to this.
//////////////:.::
Harry had to spend he next day in Auror training, or rather following a senior Auror around taking notes and getting coffee. He had been reluctant to leave Draco (he was calling Malfoy 'Draco' now) alone after what had transpired in the shower, and on the bathroom floor, and in the hallway, and against the bedroom wall, and on the bed yesterday.
But Draco had unceremoniously kicked him out of the house with a 'have a fun day at work, darling' and a peck on the cheek.
"I think he's hiding something from you," said Ron during the half an hour lunch break that they amazingly had managed to share ten minutes of together. "He's moving way to fast. And decorating the bathroom? Something's up with that. He's planning something."
"Like what?" Harry asked nervously.
"I don't know, but you better keep your eyes open."
"I thought that you were going to be more mad at me," said Harry checking his watch.
"Oh, I am mad at you," Ron finished his soda. "But I don't blame you. Who you fancy is your business even if I want to rip you a new one for pure stupidity."
"Thanks, I guess."
"You are welcome."
When Harry got back that evening he was worried of what would await him.
It turned out to be a candle-lit supper for two in a newly renovated downstairs living room and Draco in a flattering dark-purple wizard-cut suit. He was immediately send upstairs for a shower. There was a navy-blue suit waiting for him on the bed.
"I like what you done with the place," he said as Draco pulled out the chair for him at the intimate table. "I should really pay you as an interior designer in addition to being a curse-breaker."
"You couldn't afford me," Draco poured him a tall glass of lemon ice-water since Harry never drank alcohol on a work night, Harry wondered how Draco knew that. "That's why I'm going to let you pay me off in kind."
"How gracious of you," he laughed, their eyes meeting and holding a little longer than necessary.
Harry looked away when Squeeze entered the room with two plates of food, it looked like lasagna made on pumpkin and squash instead of pasta. The elf had to stand in her toes to reach up and place the plates before them. Harry watched her leave, he thought back in what Ron had said. Did Draco have a hidden agenda?
"When you asked me earlier if I wanted to hire some house elves, did you mean them?"
"Nobody wanted to hire them," Draco shrugged, not really meeting Harry's gaze. "They are good house elves, their only fault being born to the service of the Malfoy family. I thought you might wanted to help them."
Harry watched the other man fold his hands and hide them under the table. The atmosphere had begun to get a bit tense. Harry's feelings ranged between pity, anger and concern. He knew Draco was hiding something from him, he knew that he would understand and forgive, but he wished he had known it before they had sex.
"What about you?" he asked.
"I wouldn't trick you to let me stay," Malfoy looked up in defiance, because it was Malfoy again, the fierceness in those blue eyes. "I was going to do the spells, collect my money, and go back to France where I can live and breathe without being ridiculed or repressed. I could have given you a half a pint of my blood and just left... I would could have left in an hour..."
Draco had turned away even more as he spoke, his voice was cracking up. Harry tried to keep calm but his heart was spreading up and his breath was becoming shorter. Inside his chest there was a strange urge just to get up and hug the man opposite.
"Then there you were," Draco spat. "With your disability to organise anything like a wizard, your horrible colour-themes, your stupid broad shoulders, and your stupid cute smile! It was clear that you needed really my help, and I..." he bit his lower lip as he drifted off.
Harry couldn't stop himself anymore but hurried up from his chair to crouch next to Draco. He caught one of his hands in his and brushed away a lock of blond hair with the other. It was clear Draco was fighting back tears.
"I don't mind," he said. "It's fairly obvious that I do need your help, my bedroom had never been so organised and the bathroom is wonderful. I'm sure you would do this old house so much good, it would even be yours if I wasn't in the way," he gave a small laugh. "And you would do me so much good as well. I don't know if I ever enjoyed myself as much as I did last night."
Draco wiped an escaping tear from his eye and chuckled.
"I don't know if I have the strength to keep that pace up for a longer time."
"Me neither," Harry brought up Draco's hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'm a great smuggler."
"We have to change the bed linen of course," Draco straightened up. "And the blankets are just awful. That lamp in the corner must go! And..."
Harry stopped him with a kiss. Draco responded with a content humming noise and folded his arms around Harry's neck.
"Our food is getting cold," he gasped as Harry's lips brushed his neck.
"Wizard," murmured a Harry, placing a spell over the food to keep it warm.
The End.