Chapter 70
It was hard to get away from everyone. In part because Draco kept pushing himself too hard, slowing down his healing. In part because the guards Prince Viktor set on him were probably told to keep an eye on his whereabouts. In part because his friends and family were quite keen on making sure he was well.
It left Draco feeling claustrophobic. Or maybe that was spending so many hours in his room. It was a nice room, larger than his room back at Grimmauld Place with windows that showed the scenic castle grounds. The castle just held so much more weight than Grimmauld Place. It felt like the walls were always at risk of falling in on Draco.
When he decided to get away it was easy to slip his guards. He felt a little bad that they might get in trouble with Prince Viktor, but by now the prince likely knew Draco’s reputation and hopefully he would show his guards grace. Not that Durmstrang leaders were known for showing grace. It would just be hard to blame the guards when Draco asked one to take him to Teddy’s room, and the other dutifully left to report Draco’s movements to the prince. When Erik helped Draco up a staircase and went back for the chair, Draco simply strolled away down a different hall and used his knowledge of the castle’s twists and turns, and which rooms had second exits, until Erik would have to be quite lucky to figure out just where Draco went. Draco didn’t trust his luck, so he pursued a hiding spot where he was certain no one would look for him.
Halfway up all the stairs he admitted to himself this had been a horrible idea. He was sore and his stomach ached. He’d have to stay in bed again tomorrow, if not the following day as well, and his mother would chide him. Only it didn’t feel so horrible an idea when he got to the top. The observatory was grander even than he remembered it. The arched walls reached up to the heavens. The windows were enormous and it felt like Draco was outdoors in the sky. Nothing would crush him up here. In daylight, Draco could examine the intricacies of the murals and the scientific equipment gleamed. None of the furniture looked comfortable, so Draco walked to the center of the room and lay down on the floor. Above him were the zodiac figures, splendidly painted in vivid color that had faded over time. Draco could imagine how they must have looked decades ago when the tower was first built. It was beautiful. Maybe there was still food hidden somewhere in the room and he could stay here until evening and watch the stars come out without fear of anyone stumbling across him and reminding him of… everything.
Draco let himself rest and doze right there on the floor. It was easier to relax than in his room. Down there, people could find him. His mother would come and fuss and be happy. She wasn’t yet whispering suggestions to Draco about how he could build his power at court, but Draco knew it was coming. George and Luna might visit, and very deliberately not fuss, but it was beginning to feel an awful lot like pity. They could tell he was sad and didn’t know how to fix it. Teddy might come and want to play, which was a new sort of heartbreak because, for once, Draco very much didn’t. He told himself he was just tired. He had pushed himself too hard. It was exhaustion, not a dreary sadness dug deep into his chest that was sapping him of his desire to connect. Up here, in the astronomy tower, Draco didn’t have to think about the effort it took to withstand all the people who loved him. He could just rest.
The angle of the sun told Draco how many hours passed. It hadn’t been so long that he expected the sound of the observatory door being pushed open. He had thought it would be ages yet before anyone thought to look for him here. Draco blinked open his eyes and pushed himself to sitting so he could see who it was who’d discovered him.
Draco was right not to trust his luck, because it was King Harry. He wore his formal court attire, but he’d discarded the coat at some point and rolled his silk sleeves up to his elbows. Always, this man pushed the boundaries of what his court would accept from him.
He didn’t walk in like he was looking for anyone. In fact, King Harry looked bedraggled. His own exhaustion could be seen in how he slumped and how he dragged his feet as he walked into the room. The sight of Draco there in the middle of the room must have caught him off guard. He looked far more surprised to see the younger man than Draco was to see him.
“Draco,” the king said it like he needed to confirm what his eyes were telling him.
Draco forced a smile that must have looked bleak. “Your majesty.”
The king didn’t know what to do. He was caught on his feet looming over Draco, who was in no rush to get up off the floor. The king glanced back at the entrance, mentally counting the stairs up to the tower. “How did you get here?”
Ah, the king had not been looking for him then. That calmed nerves Draco hadn’t realized were tensing. It let him relax into a smile and say something foolish. “I am very adventurous and very stupid, you do the math.”
Something in the king eased as well, enough for him to laugh. It was a chuckle, but warm and true. It made Draco think of how the king must laugh so little, and Prince Viktor might call this moment intimate.
“I can leave, if you were looking to be alone,” Draco said at once.
The spark of humor in the king’s eyes dulled. “You’ve been avoiding me.” A statement, not an accusation.
It was true, of course. It had been nearly three days since the King’s return and Draco had made sure they were never in the room together. When he couldn’t be certain the king was occupied in important meetings, Draco had told his guards not to let anyone disturb him. He did not think it an irrational fear that Erik or Yuri would tell Prince Viktor at once if the king was ever alone with Draco in his room. He thought it a certainty that the prince would notice if the king ever followed Draco from a family gathering again for private discussion. There was always someone watching, here in the castle.
Besides, he couldn’t think of anything the king might say that wouldn’t make him feel horrible.
Draco tried to put on a brave smile as a barrier. “Only a little. You have important work to be doing, and I don’t think I want to be playing these court games after all.”
The king made a small, “hmm” noise. For the millionth time, he tried to put his hands in his trouser pockets, only they were too small. He sighed at the offending clothes and Draco smiled at the familiar routine of it. The king glanced around, as if looking for an alternative, but nothing presented itself. So he gave up on comfort and instead plopped down on the stone floor next to Draco. They were nearly even, then. Draco was taller, in a beanpole sort of way, but the king was large and stout and it was impossible for him to feel like the shorter of the two. “I’ll let you in on a secret,” the king said conspiratorially. The intrigue of it pulled Draco closer, even though he knew better. Draco watched the king’s eyes flicker over the line of Draco’s body, noting the proximity. The king’s eyes settled on Draco’s, bright and close. “I hate the court games, too.”
Surprised, Draco laughed. “That’s not a secret, your majesty. Every lord, lady, and scullery maid could tell me that.”
The king’s lips had tilted up when Draco laughed. “If I’m this bad at keeping secrets it’s no wonder I’m so bad at court.”
“Psh,” Draco huffed. “You’re bad at court because you keep putting horrible people in charge of everything and they surround you with things that make you miserable.”
That hint of a smile went away, leaving the king’s face grim. Everytime Draco spoke the king oscillated between emotions and it left Draco uncertain. If this was a masquerade, the king would be fascinated by Draco’s statements. It would leave the king chasing him, trying to understand. Now, Draco was only Draco. The king’s eyes may gleam as he looked at the younger man, but Draco couldn’t understand what emotion lay behind the emerald gaze.
Draco shifted uncomfortably. In an effort to be conciliatory he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Except he absolutely had.
King Harry’s eyes furrowed. He leaned closer to Draco and moved his hand to rest atop Draco’s. “You’re the only person who talks to me like that,” King Harry said. Draco’s hand was right behind him so he could lean back on it as he sat. The king’s attempt at comfort meant he was very, very close. Draco could feel the heat of the king’s body. It brought up memories of the last time he and the king had been alone in the observatory together. It reminded Draco of how good it felt when he pressed their bodies close. “Don’t be like them, Draco. Just be yourself.”
The king’s eyes were so close to Draco’s. Deep wells of green that yearned for something Draco didn’t think he could provide. A wiser man might pull away, but Draco was not wise.
Well, he was wise enough to say, “You’re getting married to Prince Viktor.” Draco had to say it. He needed to hear the words aloud, to remind himself that this temptation wasn’t real. Whatever the king was asking for would hurt too much, in the end.
King Harry leaned into Draco then, but only to hide his face on Draco’s shoulder. He was breathing deep breaths that didn’t seem to calm him. His fingers tightened on Draco’s hand, as if he was afraid Draco would pull it away. “I don’t want to marry him.” King Harry mumbled it into the crook of Draco’s neck. It sounded like a real secret, something no one was meant to know.
Draco cleared his throat, careful not to dislodge the king. “But you’ll marry him anyway?” It was so foolish to have the conversation like this, but he still hoped for a different answer. Then this would be alright. With the right answer, he could turn into the king and hold him for real.
“Draco.” He said it so softly. Almost a request not to have to say anything more. The king heaved a breath again. “I’m trying to find another way.” Ah, the reason it had been three days and the treaty was not yet signed.
It was excruciating, for the king not to be able to give Draco an answer. Excruciating and infuriating. Draco snapped without thinking. “You don’t want to marry him. He certainly doesn’t want to marry you. The other way is telling each other that and then not getting married.”
Astonishingly, the king laughed. He nuzzled closer to Draco as he did so. “The world would be much easier if we all just listened to you.”
Draco was glad the king couldn’t see him blush. “Of course, I give excellent advice.”
The king huffed. He rested against Draco just a moment longer, as if he wanted to stay, but in the end he didn’t. He pulled back and left Draco’s neck and shoulders feeling cold. The king kept his hand on Draco’s though, clutched tight. “I’m trying to find another way.”
It was hard to stomach this half affection. That was probably why Draco growled out, “The way were you’re honest and don’t make yourself miserable?”
Draco could feel the king stiffen. This was it then, the moment the king would yell at him and tell him he’d crossed over a line. Draco had a way of being too forward and the king only let him go so far before pushing back.
Only, what the king said was, “I’m not miserable.”
Draco’s laughter was not kind. “Are you joking?” He asked.
“No, I’m not joking,” the king was sounding frustrated now, right on cue.
“You spend all your time in meetings you don’t like, you surround yourself with people you hate, they put you in outfits everyone can tell you despise, the folks you put in charge are such pieces of shit that they don’t believe queer people are real and try to force you into marriage in preparation for when you realize you actually like women,” Draco was counting reasons off on his fingers and held up all five with his last fact, “and you proposed to an anonymous stranger because you thought he was the only person in the world who would treat you like a normal human being!”
The king was peering at Draco like he was the mad one. “Those aren’t… Draco, none of that matters to me.” He paused to reconsider a little. “That last one isn’t even true.”
“Isn’t it?” Draco demanded.
The king hesitated before looking away. “If I have to get married, I want it to be with someone who will care as much about my people as I do. You cared, Draco. You always care more than you should. It’s ridiculous, and you’re often stupid about it, but I’d rather have that than the alternative.”
More half praise. Like the king appreciated him, but didn’t want him. Draco’s face burned red and he lashed out once more. “The alternative of Prince Viktor?” He’d meant to rub it in, and immediately felt bad for doing so.
Either way, it backfired.
“It was Viktor’s idea to get married,” King Harry admitted. Draco hadn’t expected that. Draco looked back to the king so he could take in the king’s words fully. King Harry did look miserable as he explained. “Even though he’s the youngest son, he’d always been his father’s favorite. He thinks his father would back off on the war if we married.”
“But he doesn’t like you.” Draco didn’t mean to be cruel, he just didn’t understand.
The king threw Draco a self deprecating smile. “He likes me fine, he just doesn’t trust me.” He shrugged as if it couldn’t be helped. “But he loves his family and he loves his people. He fought in the last war, too, when Voldermort attacked Durmstaung. Their army had every advantage, and Voldermort’s men were killed five to one, but it was still a high cost to pay. Then Viktor’s eldest brother was killed, and, well, Voldermort fell soon after and we made peace.”
Draco had known abstractly about the war and how his father advised King Voldermort on different actions. He’d known his father did not want to go to war with Durmstaung, but the king would not be dissuaded and Lucius never would push too hard against the king’s choice, lest he be the one the king turned on. Draco hadn’t considered the cost of that decision. King Harry obviously had. King Harry was staring into the distance like he could see the past and it was still real to him.
“If that’s true, it makes no sense for them to attack us now. Surely their king doesn’t really want war.” Even as Draco said it he wasn’t certain. His mother had met the Durmstrang king, but she’d never told him what sort of person he was. He could be like anyone. Like Voldermort, even, who never needed a reason to make someone bleed.
King Harry blinked out of whatever vision he’d been immersed in. He shook his head to shake the dark thoughts off. He still looked grim when he turned his attention back to Draco. “Viktor thinks he’s just proud. One of his generals, Igor Karkaroff, is eager for war and conquest, and is telling the king I’m weak and can’t be trusted. Then there were the rumors of me snubbing his son, and then the bigger rumors that the kingdom was bankrupt after my Overseer of Finance stole all my money…”
Draco felt the strong need to defend Percy’s honor. “But he didn’t! Percy said he found it all.”
King Harry nodded. “Yes, it’s not true. And Viktor has mostly forgiven me embarrassing him, and if Durmstrang did attack they’d soon find their trade routes blockaded by our Beauxbaton allies, and their northern cities plundered by giants, and of course my army is far better trained that Voldermort’s ever was. This isn’t a war they could win, but I don’t want the cost of proving that.”
“No,” Draco murmured his agreement. “Even with all that, it would still be very bad.” The king squeezed Draco’s hand, but it wasn’t reassuring. It felt like a point of connection that could never grow. “And marrying Prince Viktor would stop it?” he didn’t have to ask, but he didn’t know what else to say. The king pursed his lips, not willing to say yes.
What the king cared most about was his people. He’d be miserable for them. He didn’t even care that what he did was miserable. He thought it was worth it, if he could keep other people safe. No wonder he was angry all the time, if he lived like that. Not that it was okay, how he acted. It was awful, but if he wouldn’t take care of himself he’d never get better. Draco certainly would never be the person to care for him. Only, he did have some ideas of how he’d take care of King Harry, if he could. Put Percy in charge of the kingdom’s money and let him find a way to pay for all the king’s social programs. Find a reason to banish Umbridge to somewhere wretched so he’d never have to see her again. Stop throwing big parties that he’d have to get drunk at in order to stomach attending. And little things. Give away all the fancy clothes the king hated and replace them with his own designs. Something elegant but practical, with big pockets. Take him on silly adventures, fun things filled with puzzles that Draco knew the king would like. Draco would invent new games for him and the children, and at the end of every one the king would laugh. No one would ever be surprised again to hear King Harry laugh.
That would be stepping over a line, though, and Draco had learned better.
“You should sign the treaty,” Draco hadn’t expected his voice to be horse when he said it. Like the words didn’t want to come out.
“Draco,” King Harry said plaintively.
Draco cleared his throat before speaking again. “It’s the right thing to do,” he said. “To take care of your people.”
The king leaned back against Draco’s side. “Please, Draco,” he said. Please what? Maybe just stop talking.
“Many people find happiness in political marriages.” he meant it as a consolation but it sounded like another dig.
“Don’t be like this,” the king asked. It may have sounded more like begging. “Don’t be like them.”
Draco turned to the king and suddenly their faces were too close. His throat was too dry and his heart beat too fast. “Them?”
King Harry lifted his free hand and stroked the side of Draco’s face. This truly was too intimate. Draco should stop the king, but he didn’t. “There has to be another way.” He spoke with enough conviction that Draco almost believed it. “I’ve never seen you settle, Draco. Not even when you should. You’re too stubborn and too clever.”
Draco licked his lips. “You forgot foolish, prideful, and brash.”
The king couldn’t help but laugh. “Right. All of those. You never do anything by half.” He looked at Draco like he saw more than all those things they’d named. Like whatever he saw was something he liked, and for a moment Draco believed maybe the king could want him. Then the king’s small smile grew into a grin. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Imagine how fun it will be, when you show me how quickly you can solve this.”