Chapter 46
It became abundantly clear to Draco that he definitely should have left when the king gave him the chance. Staying meant sitting in the cavernous Hogsmeade Chamber, crammed with three others at the end of a table big enough for twenty, while the three others hunched over documents while saying increasingly technical things, and Draco had only his cold cup of tea to hold onto.
Draco wouldn’t look at them, because when he tried he found his eyes drawn to King Harry. The king had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. It made him look all approachable and showed off the muscles of his forearms. He’d jerked his eyes away before the king could catch him watching, only to meet Hermione’s eyes instead. Draco knew she was smarter than King Harry. Her contemplative expression was terrifying.
So Draco looked down at his tea cup, with the untouched biscuits on the plate next to it, and wondered what he was even doing there. He wasn’t smart like these three. Percy, especially, was coming across excessively competent. Draco couldn’t measure up. Yet, he was the one the king had been willing to see. It made Draco suspect he knew exactly what he was doing here. What Percy could see even if Draco hadn’t been able to. The king was attracted to him, enough to make time for him and put up with his nonsense because… why? Did he expect to get something out of it?
Draco gripped his tea cup. He had no interest in finding out what sort of hate sex, or worse, apathetic sex, the king would be interested in with Draco. Certainly it would feature the king’s strong, chiseled body giving and seeking pleasure, but when the pleasure was over Draco imagined the king would just leave. Not in the masquerade Draco way, where Draco panicked over making a giant mistake and being found out and ruined. Just because, once finished, the king’s curiosity would be satisfied and Draco could be just another of his past lovers. Like Charlie or Colton. People who wanted more from the king than the king wanted in return.
It’s just, even knowing that, Draco had the intense wish that he had experience with literally anyone else so he could tell himself that sleeping with the king wasn’t special. As it was, Draco was distinctly aware of the all consuming feeling of King Harry desiring him. When the king couldn’t keep his hands or mouth off Draco’s body. When the king caught and held Draco’s gaze while they fucked and wouldn’t let Draco look away. Draco recalled it being mind bendingly spectacular. Like, possibly the sort of thing experience he couldn’t get from anyone else.
So now, when everyone was hard at work seeking a way to take down Slughorn, while reclaiming the stolen money, and saving face with the public, a blush was running up Draco’s neck because he realized that if he tried he could definitely get the king down on his knees again to suck on Draco’s cock.
It was madness, because Draco didn’t want it. The king treated Draco horribly. He didn’t even like Draco. And Draco didn’t want to be intimate with someone he couldn’t trust. But he was desperate to know if there was any way the king would be as tentative and gentle with Draco when the king knew who he was. Draco’s mind was buzzing at the notion some part of what he’d experienced could have been real.
Draco couldn’t help but look at him. The king was all strong jaw and broody features, the sort of look that would make a man wonder what deep thoughts the king was thinking, except Draco knew he was just frustrated he couldn’t bring in more people to help without tipping off the enemy. He worried that Percy and Draco hadn’t been careful enough when they arrived so someone might already have seen. He’d gone on and on about political dynamics that left Draco a bit batty when he tried to follow the complex weaving of court alliances. He rambled about fears that fiscal incompetence would be the death knell for his reform programs. The king was in a mood, but he wasn’t being a dick about it. Draco suspected it was because King Harry had wised up and eaten his snack and drank his tea and with reasonable blood sugar levels he was once again able to regulate his emotions.
The king still ran a frustrated hand through his hair, leaving it messier than ever, but not so messy as Draco would manage if he let himself have a go of it. The king had unbuttoned the top of his shirt, likely just wishing he could change into less formal attire, but with the side effect of showing off the sharp line of his neck and collar bone.
Draco tore his gaze away, only to be caught out again by the king’s friend. Hermione was staring. She had one of those serious little wrinkles on her forehead that people get when they’re thinking very, very hard. Draco panicked.
“Just propose to Colton or something.” the words burst out of him unbidden. “It’ll distract everyone and you’ll have the time you need to implement an actual plan.”
Horrified silence fell.
Percy squawked, “But he’s horrible!” While Hermione even looked aghast and said, “you couldn’t do that!”
Draco looked at the king, who suddenly had a sickly tint to his complexion as he considered it. “Didn’t you tell Luna he was on your short list? People wouldn’t think it out of the blue.”
“Harry, you didn’t!” Hermione gasped. More importantly, she didn’t seem to be thinking about Draco at all anymore.
Harry was staring at Draco like the younger man had personally betrayed him. “It was a moment of weakness,” he explained. “I was just… upset.”
“Honestly, Harry, what could have upset you enough to consider him?” said Hermione. Her scathing tone brought Draco an uncharitable amount of joy.
King Harry sighed and looked at her. She stared right on back. The king lifted his eyebrows and did a sideways nodding thing. The sort that might say, “Please let’s not discuss it in front of these two strangers.” Hermione quirked an eyebrow and pursed her lips. The sort of thing that might say, “You’re not getting out of this so easily.” Harry narrowed his eyes and scowled. The sort of thing that might say, “I’m about to be a royal dick and say something I’ll regret later.”
As bad as it was for the king to yell at Draco, he was absolutely against the idea of watching the king yell at someone else and doing nothing about it. So Draco panicked, again. He picked up a biscuit and chucked it at the king’s face.
Even Draco would have admitted he was being an immature twat, but that would mean backing down. The king slowly turned his scowl in Draco’s direction and Draco knew he wouldn’t back down.
Draco narrowed his own eyes and leaned forward. “Don’t. Be. A. Dick.” He made each word its own sentence.
The king’s eyes flashed with anger, then the oddest thing happened. He pursed his lips and let it go.
King Harry turned back to Hermione and said, calm as a daisy. “I ran into Luna the morning after the ball. She asked if I found anyone to marry.” He grimaced unhappily. “I just threw out the name of the scavenger hunt winner. I was being bitter that it was the only name I had.”
Draco couldn’t tell if Hermione looked more shocked that the king answered her question almost directly, or that he completely moved past Draco throwing food at him. Her wide eyes swiveled back and forth between the two men. Draco could almost see the cogs moving in her too-brilliant head. Worrying about it was enough to keep Draco’s mind off of what the king had just said, almost.
“Did you tell anyone else?” Draco tried to refocus the conversation.
The king shrugged. “We were in a hallway. There may have been people around, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“If so, they’d think you were serious. There would be rumors.” Finally, Hermione got what Draco was suggesting. “Are there rumors?”
Out of nowhere, the most unexpected person answered. It was Percy who said, “Yes.”
Draco grinned wickedly. “Percy, do you have gossip?”
Because it was Percy, he looked embarrassed. But Percy was always one to put duty first. The flood gates opened and he told the group everything.
It still took another hour to come up with a plan, and an hour more to sort out the details. Draco had courteously asked Dennis the secretary for more tea and some light provisions. He did his best to be respectful in order to make up for being so pretentious earlier. Dennis was unamused, but delivered. This time Draco relaxed and Drank his tea while everyone else was hard at work.
“We can’t all leave at once. It’s too suspicious,” Hermione said, when all the work was done. They were convinced there were spies everywhere watching them and Draco honestly couldn’t tell if the drama of it all was real or in their heads. Had his father been this dramatic about court dealings? In either case, the question launched a new round of deliberation since too many people had seen Draco and Percy come in together. It would be quite suspicious that they spent the entire day with the king. It had somehow gotten very late and Draco yawned over their worries.
“Are we boring you?” the king asked drily.
Draco nodded. “Quite a lot, actually. Plus I’m starving. Surely you have a secret passage we can use to sneak out or something. Let’s just do that.”
The king stared at Draco flatly. “I do not have a secret passage.”
“Really? I always thought this castle must have one,” Draco admitted.
“It did.” Hermione affirmed. “We closed them up.”
Draco frowned in an exaggerated fashion. “That was short sighted of you.”
The king rolled his eyes. “Just go home, Draco, I’ll figure it out tomorrow,” he said dismissively. He was already getting to his feet and making to leave.
Draco was reminded of how the king could spot him in a crowd at the equinox ball and then wouldn’t look away. It was exceptionally petulant, but Draco resented knowing that the king was seriously interested in shagging him, but not in the same way. Draco lurched into one of his stupid choices without thinking it through enough to talk himself out of it. “What if just Hermione and Percy leave? It would be less noticeable, and if Percy is ever questioned about it he can just say I talked him into coming so I’d have an excuse to visit.”
There was another one of those exceptionally awkward pauses. Hermione looked ruffled. Percy looked concerned. The king looked suspicious, but willing to hear more.
Percy cleared his throat before speaking. He looked exceptionally uncomfortable. “It would be dishonorable.”
That drew out a laugh. Draco couldn’t help himself, he wrapped an arm around Percy and gave him half a hug. “You’re so sweet. Think about it, though, no one thinks of a Malfoy as honorable.”
“You’re exceptionally honorable,” Percy insisted.
Draco’s eyes softened and he hugged his friend again. “It’s nice of you to say. You should get home, though. Mother and Aunt Andromeda were to meet us there. You should go catch them up on everything.” Percy was looking flustered and like he would commit to arguing over saving Draco’s virtue, so Draco hugged him a final time and said. “Remember when I trusted you unconditionally? This is one of those times you need to do that for me.”
Hermione was giving one of her unreadable looks to King Harry. “Are you certain about this? It’s quite unorthodox.”
The king didn’t look certain. He glanced at Draco, looking him up and down from head to toe. There was a flash of something heated before the king pulled himself back and put on a pleasant face. “They gossip either way, ‘Mione. Let’s put it to use for a change.”
Neither Hermione or Percy liked it, but Draco and King Harry were far more stubborn.
“You are alarmingly good at coming up with lies,” Hermione said to Draco on the way out the door.
It was intended to be pointed, but Draco grinned cheekily and winked at the king. “She thinks I’m good at lying,” he said smugly.
The king looked as unimpressed as ever. “Try it. Right now. Tell her two truths and one lie and see if she can tell.”
Draco could blinked in astonishment at having been put on the spot. The king was gazing at him steadily, daring him to do it. It was the most the king had looked at him since the two had walked in together and sat down on opposite sides of their friends.
“Um,” Draco said, uncertain but committed to trying. “Um.” He glanced at Hermione, then to a very interested looking Percy. He tried to think of anything to say other than how he had danced with a feathered Hermione a year ago, or stole Percy’s spring invitation, or repeatedly slept with the King.
“My first dog was named Princess.” he paused. “I spent two months shoveling horse shit out of the stable.” he tried not to pause too long. “My socks today don’t match.”
There was a brief pause, and then Hermione and Percy said together, “Socks.”
Draco’s jaw dropped even as the king roared with laughter. The king’s entire face lit up with the sort of lighthearted levity Draco wasn’t used to seeing in real life. It reminded Draco of what the king had said - that when Draco acted difficult they thought the king found it charming.
Still, Draco argued. “I can lie just fine. I’ve lied to all of you.” he regretted it, of course, because Hermione gave him another terrifying look that Draco swore saw through him to his core.
The king paid her no mind. He smirked at Draco, his point made. He gestured for the other two to leave the room first, before he stepped up to Draco and led him out, one hand resting on Draco’s lower back.
Which is how Draco ended up on the most déjà vu walk of his life. The king removed his hand from Draco once they reached the hallway. Still, Draco followed King Harry down the castle corridor until they reached the king’s private chamber. Today the room was bright, lanterns lit and glaring at Draco as he entered. It tugged and shifted Draco’s memories, turning the space he recalled as romantic into a sparsely decorated utilitarian chamber. The sort of place a gloomy man who could have anything he wanted would choose to live in. The tapestries were old and uninspired. The rugs were well worn and faded. The desk held only the most basic necessities of paper and pen. There was a long, hardwood table where the king likely took his meals. It was bare, save for a few haphazard items at the end. The king had begun talking but Draco didn’t hear it. His entire world narrowed down to the few items out on display.
A couple books. A few folded papers. A wolf necklace. A muddy pair of golden shoes. A black handkerchief with constellations embroidered onto it in silver.