Title: Matchmaker
Author: 
winterthunder
Team: EWE
Prompt: Justice
Wordcount: 8960
Rating: R
Warnings: Semi-public sex, implied gender bending
Summary: What happens when the requirements of ancient protective spells put Harry Potter in the position of matchmaker to Draco Malfoy?
Author's Note Disclaimer: not mine, no offence intended, all over 18, etc. Many thanks to my lovely team members for supporting me through the writing and revision of this piece.
Come my friends, do gather round, for there's a lovely warm fire and cocoa and snow outside. What shall we do to pass the time?
What was that?
My. That's quite a story you ask for. Well, that snow isn't going to stop any time soon, so I suppose that one will do just as well as any other.
Gather closer, my friends, and let me tell you a tale. For this is the story of how one man came to know what we women endure for the propagation of our kind. This is the story of how, and why, Harry Potter came to spend nine months with my shape…
˜*˜
Harry Potter swallowed nervously as he approached the gates of Malfoy Manor. For all that the war was five years gone and the Malfoys had, thanks to Narcissa's subterfuge in the Forbidden Forest, regained much of their status in society, approaching the Manor still brought back memories of being dragged there against his will.
It was silly, really, Harry thought, trying to reassure himself as he passed through the gates and up the perfectly manicured lawn. He'd spoken up for the Malfoys in the aftermath of the war, making sure that everyone knew what Narcissa and Draco had done for him. He'd not been able to keep Lucius from serving an 18-month sentence in Azkaban, but the place was sans dementors now, and none of the family seemed to harbour any ill will for it. In fact, he'd found Narcissa to be downright chatty the past few times he'd seen her.
The door opened almost before he had raised his hand to knock, and before he knew it the house elf was ushering him into the entry way and Narcissa was descending the stairs.
"Mr. Potter, how wonderful of you to come! You're well, I hope?"
"Err, yes, fine, thanks. And you?"
"Quite well, dear, thank you for asking. If you'd just come through here, I've had tea set out for us." She led the way into the tastefully decorated sitting room and slid gracefully into a chair as Harry settled himself across from her. She seemed in no hurry to bring up the reason for the visit, instead commenting on the weather, the state of politics and how much Teddy had grown since her last visit to Andromeda's. Harry, while enjoying the meal, found himself growing more and more confused as to exactly why she had asked him to come. He took his chance during a lull in the conversation.
"I believe you wanted to speak to me about something?"
"Yes." Narcissa rested her teacup in its saucer and stared at the wall behind his left shoulder. "I hardly know where to begin." Harry bit back his suggestion of "at the beginning" and waited for her to speak.
"I trust that this conversation will go no farther than this room, Mr. Potter. I'd rather not see my family's private affairs splashed over the Prophet like common gossip." Harry nodded.
"Lucius is dying."
"What? I mean, I'm so sorry! Would you like me to see if there's anyone at Mungo's-" Narcissa cut him off with a wave of her hand.
"No, no Mr. Potter, nothing like that. We've paid for all the best Healers and they all say the same thing. The best prognosis gives him five years."
"Oh." Harry couldn't really think of anything else to say. Narcissa got up and walked over to the window that overlooked the gardens.
"The Malfoys have been on this land for close to a thousand years, Mr. Potter. Parts of this house date back to the 12th century." Harry thought of the dungeons and shivered. "There are powerful charms protecting the Manor and its family. The land protects us, and in turn we must act in the best interests of the land. My husband neglected this and it will, in due time, be the cause of his death. The Manor knows who is worthy and who is not. There are stories of brides who did not meet the standards of the Manor."
Narcissa's tone made it clear that these stories did not have happy endings. She turned from the window and seated herself across from Harry once more.
"These lands requires more than our stewardship. They must know who is to care for them through the generations. The next in line must always be present. At no time may there be only one heir. The land will not allow it. Right now, Draco is the only one who can inherit the role. If Lucius dies without Draco having an heir, the family will have violated the charms."
"And what will happen then?" Harry asked.
"The last it happened was in 1703; Septimus Malfoy and his wife were but days away from the birth of their first son when his father died. I believe Muggles call it the Great Storm of 1703- an eight day storm with winds that reached 193 kilometres an hour."
"Why don't the responsibilities pass to you?" Harry asked. It seemed a reasonable question; he was certain Narcissa could order the trees pruned and the lawns mowed as well as Lucius or Draco could. But Narcissa looked at him scornfully.
"These charms were set around the time that the first parts of the house were built, Mr. Potter. The heir must be male, and there's no way around it."
"Then why is Malf- why is Draco not married?" Narcissa sighed at this.
"I've tried. He's turned his nose up at every eligible female I've pushed in his direction. Every single one has some imagined quality making her unsuitable for his lifelong companionship. I was hoping you could help."
"What exactly do you think I'll be able to do?"
"You've been separated from Miss Weasley for months now. I've seen some of the offers you've gotten and surely you must have thousands more. And the two of you seem to get along well enough now, despite your school days. Perhaps you could nudge him along, go out as a group, something along those lines?"
Harry sat still, unsure of what to say. His break with Ginny, while far from still painful, had been under circumstances that didn't particularly make him want to begin dating just yet. Not women, at any rate. And to complicate things further, he'd caught himself thinking that Draco was really rather attractive the past few times they had encountered each other. He tried to figure out how to put this all into words.
"I don't think I can do exactly that, Mrs. Malfoy," he began, but she cut him off.
"Oh, but I think you will. There is the life debt to consider, after all." He winced.
"What I meant to say, Mrs. Malfoy, is that double dating isn't going to be fast enough." Narcissa's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Harry replied, trying desperately to make it up as he went along, "if Draco needs an heir before Mr. Malfoy dies, having him meet women one by one will waste time. I don't suppose adoption is an option?" Narcissa said nothing, merely looked at him. "Erm, right, then we need him to meet lots of women at once and pick one. Like in Cinderella."
"What is Cinderella? It sounds quite vulgar. I'll have you know that Draco will still be marrying a girl with a good background."
"Oh, no, I mean yes, I mean-" Harry cut himself off and tried to collect his thoughts. "Cinderella is a muggle fairy story where a prince chooses his bride from all the eligible girls at a ball. Perhaps we ought to set up something like that."
Narcissa was quiet for a moment, her face contemplative. Harry rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and hoped she didn't know the part of the story where the prince's chosen bride turned out to be a servant girl.
"Yes, I suppose that might be acceptable. We felt it … unseemly to hold a ball in the aftermath of the war, but I believe enough time has passed. Lucius should be strong enough to entertain for one night and if you are associated with the event it will be well attended. Yes, I believe that will do nicely." Narcissa pulled out her wand and Summoned her planner. "Have you plans for New Year's Eve, Mr. Potter?"
˜*˜
New Year's Eve was only six weeks away, and that, as Narcissa had insisted, was next to no time with which to plan a ball. So it was that Harry found himself once again at the doors of Malfoy Manor the next morning at nine, which was, in his opinion, much too early for a Saturday. Narcissa met him again in the entryway and this time ushered him into the library, where he was surprised to see a long table covered in parchment.
"I've been working on a guest list, Mr. Potter, and I trust you've brought suggestions of your own."
"Erm-"
"Surely you've saved at least a few of the many owls you've received? I'll own that the vast majority are unlikely to be suitable, but surely there must be some from well regarded families."
"Mrs. Malfoy, I don't read mail from people I don't know. It's dangerous." Narcissa wrinkled her nose in well-bred distaste.
"Well, I suppose it can't be helped. Draco will join us presently. I must ask you, Mr. Potter, not to mention the magic surrounding the Manor. Lucius and I have decided not to burden him with the information. We've made our wishes clear to him and I'll expect you not to inform him of the reasons we desire him to produce an heir."
Harry's head spun. He wasn't entirely sure how he had gone from looking forward to a festive Christmas season to facing the prospect of spending the season planning a ball in order to find Draco Malfoy a broodmare.
"Let me get this straight, Mrs. Malfoy. You want me to help find Draco a girl to knock up without telling him why?"
"Such crude language, Mr. Potter! We are in search of an appropriate bride in order to produce an heir. Lucius and I see no reason to tell him just yet. He had a bit of a rough patch after the unpleasantness a few years back and we see no reason to risk his emotions until the situation is dire. No, you will not overload him with something such as this."
"Such as what, Mother?" Draco strolled through the door, dressed in tight breeches and a loose collared shirt that complemented his body perfectly. He nodded a greeting to Harry and seated himself on the other side of the table.
"The colour theme for the ball, dear," Narcissa responded without missing a beat.
"Quite right, I shouldn't like to deal with that at all. So, Potter, I see you've been pressed into service. What precious titbits of ball-giving wisdom do you have to share with us today?" Draco's voice was utterly without malice, though his eyes danced with laughter.
"I dunno, Malfoy, I know just about as much about this as you do." Harry replied, a bit distracted as he tried to suppress the thoughts that Draco's appearance had given him.
"Less, I would wager," Draco said.
"Now, Draco," Narcissa chided. "Mr. Potter is here to lend his name to the proceedings and make suggestions regarding the guest list. It is our first ball in several years, after all, we want it to be a success. Now, Mr. Potter, if you could look through this list and tell me what you think." She pushed several pages of parchment towards him, each with at least fifty names on it. He sighed and set to reading.
Several hours later he had diversified the guest list to include at least as many Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and international families as Slytherins and insisted that the proceeds of the ball go to support the Hogwarts Bursary Fund. The colour theme had been determined to be a dark purple accented with tasteful silver and Narcissa had produced a draft of the invitation.
"I don't believe I have further need of you today, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said finally, not looking up from the page in front of her. "But I'll have these ready for you and Draco to deliver tomorrow."
"What?"
"I'll have the invitations ready for you and Draco to deliver tomorrow." Narcissa looked up from the table, her features annoyed. "It is traditional for the host of a ball to deliver the invitations, and since your name is included as a host it is only proper that you go along with Draco."
"He's never done this before, Mother; you'll have to forgive him if he's a bit dense about it," Draco said, glancing between the two. Harry gritted his teeth. He wondered briefly how rude it would be to say that he didn't think it was the best idea for him to spend that many hours with Draco Malfoy, but then decided it wasn't worth the explanations he'd have to give. There was the life debt to consider, and the consequences of not paying it back ought to be more than enough to keep his thoughts in line. He sighed.
"What time do you want me?"
"Nine will do," Narcissa said. "Draco, will you see him out?"
Draco was silent as he walked Harry towards the front door.
"It's really not that bad, Potter," he said once they had gotten out of earshot of the library. "We use a time turner and most of the people give us something for our troubles. We've moved past the unpleasantness of our childhoods, right?"
"I suppose so," Harry said, and extended his hand. Draco shook it and nodded.
"See you tomorrow, Harry."
It wasn't until Harry had passed through the gates that he realized exactly what it was that had been different about Draco's farewell.
˜*˜
Harry appeared once again at Malfoy Manor the next morning in a nice pair of dress robes that were, after a few slight alterations, approved by Narcissa. She handed Harry and Draco a bag with the invitations, charmed to be weightless and automatically produce the exact invitation a person was reaching for.
"These cover the families residing in the northern half of Britain; come back when you've finished and I'll give you the southern half and turn you back to this morning so that all the deliveries can be done in a day," Narcissa instructed. "Your first stop will be over at the Changs."
"Wouldn't it make more sense to start with the Parkinsons, Mother?" Draco asked. "They're closer."
"I'll take care of that one, darling; Christine and I are good friends."
"All right. Well then, Potter, shall we head out?" Harry followed Draco out the door and onto the lawn.
"How do we get to all these places?" Harry asked.
"The invitations are two-way portkeys," Draco replied, pulling the first out of the bag. "They transport us to deliver them and then activate night of the ball to take our guests to the Manor." He held out the envelope to Harry. "Touch the sealing wax at three, all right? One, two, three!"
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel and had a split second to contemplate how odd it was to be tugged through space with Draco Malfoy squeezed next to him. And then it was over and they had been neatly deposited in front of a tidy, compact little house nestled between two towering, snow-covered elm trees. Harry only had a moment to feel thankful for landing soundly on his feet before the door opened and Cho Chang walked out, her body twisted as she called over her shoulder back into the house.
"I'm off, Mummy, I'll be back in a few hours." She closed the door behind her and caught sight of Harry and Draco as she turned. "Oh, hallo! You startled me!" She smiled as she moved down the path towards them. "I didn't expect to see the two of you in my yard. It's been, what, three years now? How are you?"
Harry and Draco answered at the same moment, and the result was a jumbled "I'm we're fine how about fantastic and you?" followed by a rather awkward silence in which Harry tried to keep from laughing.
"Well, I was just heading out to an appointment," Cho said finally, "but I'll be back in a few hours- would you like to talk over tea?"
"I'm afraid we'll have to come another time; we're just here to deliver an invitation." Draco had regained his composure and smiled as he handed her the envelope. "My family and Harry have teamed up to give a ball on New Year's Eve to benefit the Hogwarts Bursary Fund. We would be honoured if you would attend. You'll find information regarding dress and contributions in the invitation and the sealing wax will activate as a portkey on the evening of, should you wish to attend."
"Well, we don't have any plans of yet," Cho said, taking the invitation. "I'd love to come, but I don't know about my parents. They're rather insistent on sticking to the Chinese traditions."
"Ah, yes, I understand entirely," Draco said. "Well, we'll let you get about your day. Good to see you!"
"Yeah, good to see you," Harry echoed. Cho smiled at him and waved before Disapparating.
"I think we might want to decide beforehand who talks," Draco remarked. "Not all of our guests will be quite as amused by our talking over each other."
"I was just trying to—" Harry cut himself off, thinking that the actual explanation, which was something along the lines of 'trying not to look stupid in front of someone I used to sort of date' was probably not one he wanted to go into with Draco.
"Trying to what?" Draco asked.
"How are you so good at making conversation like that?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.
"It's sort of a requirement when one grows up in an upper class family," Draco responded. "Don't worry though, you'll get plenty of practice today. Would you like to do the next one?"
"Not really," Harry replied.
"I'm not planning on doing all of these," Draco said, reaching in the bag for the next invitation. He looked at the name and made a face.
"Avery. Actually, you're right, I'd probably better do this one."
˜*˜
After the two boys had disappeared from the front lawn, Narcissa smiled to herself and turned back into the house.
"Are they off, Cissy?" Lucius' voice still carried through the house, despite his snakehead cane now being used for more than show. He descended the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister and Narcissa moved towards him to offer her support as they moved into his office.
"Yes, they've left. I expect we'll see them back in about seven hours for the next half."
"That's one task that I don't mind leaving to the next generation," Lucius chuckled as he settled into his chair. "I'm glad we managed to purchase another time turner. I doubt they would have agreed to deliver invitations without it, what with the number of eligible females you've included on the guest list."
"If he doesn't pick one of these, he'll have rejected everyone in Britain and a good number from the Netherlands and France!" Narcissa's eyes were serious. "I wish you would consider telling him, Lucius. We're running out of time."
"No, Cissy. I loved you when I married you and I want him to have the same chance. That one healer, whatsisname, he mentioned something about forestalling by resuming my duties. I've had the orchard pruned and today I plan to order the outlying buildings to be whitewashed. I'll find a way to appease the land and give him as much time as possible."
"But-"
"No buts, Cissy!" Lucius placed a finger over Narcissa's lips and drew her down into a soft kiss. "I want him to love someone as much as I've loved you." Narcissa smiled sadly.
"I know, Lucius. I just wish he would find someone to love soon." She let her fingers trail the length of his face, then straightened up and stepped back. "I'd best be delivering this invitation to the Parkinsons."
"Not leaving that one to the boys, are you?"
"Not on your life! If I know Christine Parkinson, one whisper that Draco is on the lookout for a bride and it will be common knowledge by the end of the day. I will have this ball full of women actively trying to win my son."
"Ah, there is none more devious than you, my dear," Lucius said. "Well then, off with you!"
Narcissa walked out of Lucius' study and closed the door behind her. She paused by the mirror hanging in the hall to wipe the few clinging tears from her lashes. When she was satisfied with her appearance she moved to the nearest fireplace, tossed in a pinch of Floo powder and stepped into the emerald flames.
˜*˜
The day hadn't been nearly as bad as he had feared, Harry mused as he reached into the bag for the last invitation. He was still going strong, even as the task had stretched into its fourteenth hour, thanks in part to the endurance potions that a few of their invites had offered them over tea and conversation. The effort of trying to be social had dampened any inappropriate thoughts he might have had. Plus Draco had turned out to be quite a good companion. He had outgrown his classist tendencies and it turned out they had more in common than Harry had thought possible. Chatter about Quidditch teams had filled up the first three hours, and from there the conversation had moved into potions, politics, the value of divination and whether snails were actually edible.
"My mother always serves them whenever people come over and everyone eats one and no more," Draco was saying. "Personally, I think it's a gigantic joke. Some rich wizard with a really strong stomach must have served them to his guests centuries ago as a trick and he had so much money that no one dared say they tasted hideous and slimy. So now they're some twisted symbol of class and no one dares not serve them."
"Well, we won't be having any of those at the ball," Harry stated emphatically. "Or if you must, keep them as far away from me as you can!"
"Perhaps if we band together we can overrule Mother on serving them. I know she'll try. What's the next place?"
"Angelina Johnson and George Weasley, and they're the last. She and George must be on holiday near the coast, their flat is in London and we've been there already to deliver to the Bulstrodes and the Tonkses." Harry held out the invitation to Draco and felt, once again, the tug of the portkey. They were deposited outside a little rental cottage in what looked to be the Isle of Wight. As they approached the door they were hailed from behind, and they turned to see George and Angelina approaching with little Fred from the beach.
"Oy, Harry! What's up, mate?" George called out as they got closer.
"Nothing much, George. We're just delivering these invitations and you're the last on our list."
"Invitations?" Angelina asked. "For what?"
"New Year's Eve ball to benefit the Hogwarts Bursary Fund," Draco responded. "Up at the Manor."
"Ooh, Malfoy Manor!" George whistled. "Gee, Harry, you moving in higher circles nowadays? Pretty soon you'll have forgotten the rest of us."
"Of course not, George, it's just that it's a good cause and all."
"Aw, I know Harry, only teasing a bit. Say, do you two want to stay to dinner?" Harry hesitated, unsure if George's wife and son had had any effect on his tendency to test out new products on unsuspecting dinner guests.
"Don't worry, Harry, we're going down to the town for something quick, he won't have the opportunity to try anything," Angelina said, smiling reassuringly. Harry glanced over at Draco, who shrugged his shoulders.
"Why not?" he asked.
"All right then," Harry said. "Where were you planning on going?"
A half hour later they had settled into a booth down at the local pub and little Fred had been installed in a high chair. Harry and George were both working on a pint, Draco had a glass of wine and Angelina had been congratulated on her reason for drinking water.
"So, Harry, met any nice birds since you and Gin parted ways?" George asked amicably.
"No, I haven't been dating much, actually," Harry replied. "To tell the truth, I don't think that's where my interests are."
"Ah. Well then, I've plenty of nice bloke friends I could set you up with, Harry, if you're interested," George offered.
"Thanks, George, but I think I'm happy to be single, for the moment. Still working things out, you know?"
"Fair enough. If you change your mind though, just say the word," George said. "What about you there, Draco? Birds or blokes?"
"Err, well, my parents expect me to marry and produce an heir," Draco said, looking flustered for the first time Harry could ever remember.
"Pity, that," George commented. "Not that I regret my marriage at all," he hastened to add as Angelina glared at him, "but it's not something to be hurried in to." Angelina nodded and Harry and Draco agreed that yes, marriage was something to be taken slowly, and the conversation moved to other topics. Harry enjoyed the evening, though he did wonder exactly why Draco kept looking thoughtfully at him whenever there was a lull in the conversation.
˜*˜
Harry saw very little of Draco or Narcissa over the next six weeks, as Narcissa had informed him that she could handle the details of the ball quite well on her own and he therefore had no reason to come by. Draco sent him regular owls to keep him up to date on the plans and the inevitable presence of the snails on the menu. Harry was surprised to find his thoughts stealing towards Draco as the days went by and he found himself looking forward to the missives since he really couldn't come up with a good reason to simply show up on the other man's doorstep. It was quite inappropriate, he told himself each time the blonde appeared in his fantasies. He was tasked with finding Draco a bride, not imagining ways to get into his bed.
The days immediately preceding the ball included a memorable luncheon in Diagon Alley with Narcissa during which she tested him on the names and pictures of the women she had chosen as likely prospects so that he could find them at the ball and make sure to properly introduce them to Draco. He'd performed miserably, and, as such, had written up flashcards with the names and key facts of each girl on one side and a wizarding photo on the other. He patted the inside breast pocket of his dress robes to make sure they were still there and gave himself one more look in the mirror before Apparating to the Manor.
The hall was impeccably decorated and mostly empty when he arrived, though a few early guests were chatting awkwardly with each other. As he entered the room, one of the girls gave an audible squeak and detached herself from her companion. Harry sighed inwardly.
"Oh, Harry, I was hoping I'd get a chance to meet you tonight!" The speaker was a short, buxom girl with an overly made up face and artificially blond hair. Her dress robes were cut to show her rather full figure, which she was trying to use to her best advantage. "I'm Theresa Loop and I'm absolutely in awe of what you did for England. I'm a year younger than you, but my parents sent me to Beauxbatons after a year at Hogwarts; they thought things were just getting too dangerous. You're so brave to stay and fight the way you did!"
"Er, thanks. Nice to meet you," Harry said, supremely uncomfortable. This was one of the reasons he didn't go out in public much. He glanced desperately around the room and sighed in relief when he saw Draco heading towards him.
"All right there, Harry?"
"Oh, you're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?" Theresa jumped in. "I heard you helped conceal the heroes during the war and made it possible for them to reach the final battle with You-Know-Who. Theresa Loop, Draco, overjoyed to meet you!" Theresa reached out to shake Draco's hand vigorously, and her attitude seemed to be that Harry would be ideal, but she wouldn't say no to Draco either. Harry glanced over at Draco, and was glad to see that he looked just as uncomfortable.
"Pleased, I'm sure. Harry, sorry to steal you away from your companion, but Mother had a quick question for you. She's in the drawing room, I believe." Harry left quickly, thankful for the excuse. Entering the drawing room, he saw not only Narcissa, but Lucius as well.
"Mr. Potter, pleased to see you," Lucius said smoothly as he entered.
"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry nodded his greetings. "The hall looks fantastic."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said. "Now, I trust you've improved your knowledge of the eligible ladies that will be in attendance tonight?"
"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry replied, thinking of the flashcards. "He's already met Miss Loop, but I would be pretty surprised if that went anywhere."
"What do you mean?"
"She's a bit, erm, embarrassingly forward."
"Ah, yes, that won't do at all," Narcissa said. "We shall keep an eye on her throughout the evening and show her the floo if need be. Now then, Mr. Potter, shall we make our entrance?"
"Make our entrance?" Harry asked.
"We're the hosts of the ball, Mr. Potter; it's traditional that we welcome our guests." Narcissa turned to help Lucius out of his chair and they moved slowly out of the room. Harry, unsure of what he was to do, hovered behind them.
The hall had filled considerably in his absence and gradually fell quiet as they entered and made their way over to a small raised dais in the corner.
"Hello, friends! We're so pleased that you've joined us this New Year's Eve to ring in the New Year." Lucius' voice rang through the hall, belying the slight tremor in his legs. "We're also joined tonight by Mr. Harry Potter, who has helped to organize the section of the evening which will benefit the Hogwarts Bursary Fund. Please, make yourselves at home and enjoy the evening!" Narcissa helped Lucius down and nodded to a group of musicians that had followed them in; they moved to set up on the dais. Then she turned to Harry.
"Well, Mr. Potter, let us go to our respective duties." Harry nodded and moved to the side of the room, pulling out his flashcards to double check the image of Sarah Biddle, the first girl on Narcissa's list. Spotting her standing alone along the other side, he sighed and made his way over.
"Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter."
"As if there's anyone here who doesn't know who you are," she replied, smiling as she shook his hand. "I'm Sarah Biddle." Try as he might, he could find no hint of malice in her face, so he decided to take her words as an ill-conceived joke.
"Well, I just noticed that you were standing by yourself, and since I'm supposed to be one of the hosts here, I thought I might introduce you to a few people. Look, Draco's just over here." He led her across the floor, feeling extremely self-conscious.
"Draco, this is Sarah Biddle. Sarah, Draco Malfoy. Sarah's quite the Quidditch fan, Draco, I thought the two of you might have something to talk about." Draco looked momentarily confused, then amused. Harry saw similar emotions echoed on Sarah's face and realized, too late, that he'd used flashcard information that he had no way of knowing through normal conversation.
"Well, all right," Draco said. "Pleased to meet you, Sarah." As Harry made his excuses and his escape, he heard Draco and Sarah laughing behind him.
˜*˜
Three hours later, Harry was tired and frustrated. He felt like he had pushed every girl in the room towards Draco, all while avoiding Theresa, who had swooped in at every opportunity to point out that she was single and willing until Narcissa had politely intervened. His feet hurt from constantly moving from person to person and his cheeks hurt from attempting to smile sincerely. Not a single girl had spoken with Draco for more than ten minutes, and only one had made it as far as the dance floor.
He leaned against a wall and massaged his temples for a moment. He was nearing the end of his flashcards and running out of ideas. He stopped a passing house elf and downed three flutes of champagne in quick succession.
"Harry! Pretty fancy event you've got going here, mate!" George and Angelina had arrived fashionably late, or perhaps George had simply wanted to make an entrance.
"Hi, George! It's a bit more than I'm used to, but people seem to be enjoying themselves, so that's all right."
"Indeed they do."
"You've dressed up pretty nice yourself there," Harry observed. "I like the gloves." George had on white dress gloves, which were accompanied by a full tuxedo and a top hat.
"Actually, these gloves have a specific purpose," George said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a small, flat stone. "Take a look at this, mate, Fred found it when we were vacationing on the Isle of Wight."
Later Harry would wonder why on earth he had accepted anything from George. He blamed the frustration and exhaustion and, of course, the champagne. He reached out, the words "What is it?" on his lips, and the next thing he knew he was looking up at George from a suddenly much shorter height and the gasps of the startled party guests filtered through his oddly floppy ears.
"Not to worry, Harry, it wears off in a few minutes!" George said gleefully, patting Harry's head before turning to the group. "This is one of our newest inventions over at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, ladies and gents. Similar to our wildly popular line of edible transfiguration crèmes, this particular product embeds the spell in an every day object, which your target need only touch. As you can see, Harry has kindly agreed to model our Delaine Merino Touch Transfigurator; we've all the common barnyard animals and several of the house pets as well."
"Amusing as I'm sure you find this, Weasley, I'm not sure Harry would agree with you," Draco said, pushing through the crowd. He reached down to pick up Harry's glasses and- through the haze of his sheep-brain Harry recognized the shape of his flashcards and realized they must have fallen from his robes during his transformation.
"Baaaah, baaah," he bleated, trying to nudge Draco's hand away with his head. He had no success; Draco not only picked up the cards, but it only took a glance at the top one for comprehension to flash across his face.
"Thank you for that fascinating demonstration, Weasley," he drawled, his voice hard. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll just be helping Harry to change back in private. I expect you'll have found somewhere else to display your wares by the time I've returned." He wrapped his fingers in the wool behind Harry's neck and gave him a push forward. The crowd parted, and as Harry's new hooves clicked on the tile floor of the hall he heard Angelina reproaching her husband.
"You promised not to test any more products on our friends, George! Come on, let's go."
Draco led Harry out of the hall and into a small antechamber across the way. He pushed Harry in ahead of him, then turned to close the door. A wave of his wand lit the candles.
"Harry, what are these?" he asked, his voice annoyed.
"Baaah," Harry said.
"Is this why you've been pushing women my way all bloody evening?" he asked, gesturing angrily.
"Baaah," Harry said.
"You were amazingly transparent about it, you know. Every girl you tried to hook me up with thought so. And now that to find that you even went so far as to make flashcards! My mother must be behind this."
"Baaah," Harry said.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. I'm standing here asking questions of a sheep. How long until you change back?"
"Baaah," Harry said.
Draco sat down in a huff and looked at Harry. Then he looked away, and looked back again.
"You look ridiculous, you know that," he said. "I never thought I'd see a sheep in dress robes appear in the hall of Malfoy Manor."
"Baaah," Harry said. Draco burst out laughing, his head in his hands and his body shaking. Harry transformed back. The next time Draco looked up, he saw him and lunged out of his seat, pinning him to the wall before Harry could object or even move.
"Don't you ever do that again, you fool," he said, and kissed him roughly. Harry was shocked, and then suddenly the pieces fell together. The strange looks during dinner six weeks ago. The string of owls. The way that Draco had always managed to show up next to him after ditching each girl Harry had tried to set him up with. Draco must- but no, Harry was supposed to be setting him up! He had to stop this, somehow.
"It wasn't like I had much of a choice," Harry said when they broke apart for air.
"Not the sheep. Though don't do that again either. I'm talking about trying to set me up all fucking night!" Draco leaned in to kiss Harry again, and this time Harry moved his hands up to Draco's shoulders, intending to push him away. Unfortunately, his body betrayed him and instead he found his hands fumbling with the buttons on Draco's dress robes.
"I don't want any of those girls. I want you. And," Draco said, pressing against Harry and smiling as he felt Harry's cock rising to meet his own, "I think you feel the same way." Harry could only whimper as Draco grabbed his wrist and Apparated them into his bedroom.
˜*˜
Harry awoke slowly the next morning and it took him a moment to register that there was a warm body draped across him and that the warm body was Draco. He stiffened in alarm as the night before came flooding back to him. How on earth was he going to explain this? He set out to find someone for Draco to fuck and ended up fucking him himself. Fuck.
Draco raised his head and smiled sleepily.
"Fuck? You ready to go at it again?" Oh, shit, had he said that out loud?
"What? Oh, no, not that way!"
"What do you mean, not that way?" Draco's voice took on a hint of annoyance.
"No, I mean yes, I mean it was very nice, I mean-" Harry cut himself off and buried his face in his hands. "Your mother's going to kill me," he mumbled.
"My mother's going to- Potter, what on earth does my mother have to do with this? Was she behind you shoving women at me all evening? Why on earth would she care that much?" Harry was reasonably certain that there was no way he could lie his way out of this one, so he decided to come clean.
"It's complicated Draco, I-" Draco cut him off.
"If you complete that sentence with 'I've been sleeping with your mother,' Potter, you won't live to let her kill you," he said.
"No! No, Draco, it's not like that at all!" Harry protested, repulsed at the idea. "I owe your mother a life debt, from the Battle of Hogwarts. Since it's so important that you marry and produce an heir, she asked me if I could kind of, you know, set you up. But instead I ended up sleeping with you!" Harry looked over at Draco, not understanding why he felt that it was so important that the other man accept his explanation. Draco's face had softened slightly, and Harry took that as a good sign.
"Did you want to sleep with me?" he asked.
"Well, yes, but I've wanted that for a while and it doesn't change the fact that I shouldn't have done it!" Harry said.
"How long is a while?"
"Erm, almost a year? I thought you were hot that time we ran into each other in Diagon back in February." Harry couldn't quite believe he was discussing this with Draco, but it felt right to be honest with the man that he'd come to like, appreciate and admire over the past months.
"Really? I never suspected that it was that long," Draco said, looking pleased and surprised. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Well, there was the whole getting comfortable with my sexuality and then the weirdness of 'Hi, I'm your childhood enemy, I want to have sex with you'. Oh, and the fact that I'm supposed to be setting you up, not sleeping with you."
"I wonder why Mother would think this were important enough to share it with anyone else, or even to ask for help," Draco mused. "It doesn't fit."
"It has something to do with the charms that bind your family to the Manor," Harry replied.
"The ones that are killing Father?"
"Erm, yeah. I guess they also have some sort of caveat that requires there to always be an heir?" Harry said, hesitantly. Draco's eyes widened.
"They didn't tell me that part," he muttered. "That makes a lot of sense. If Father dies and I haven't had a son yet…" They sat in silence for a while, each mulling over their own thoughts. Harry saw only one option. He had to remove himself from this process and find another way to settle his life debt to Narcissa. He didn't think he could continue to funnel women Draco's way when he had been in his bed and would honestly prefer that Draco not marry at all. That was a pretty serious conflict of interest. Yes, if he could get out of Malfoy Manor without being AK'ed by Narcissa, he would be better off far away from this mess.
"Well, I guess I'd better go then," Harry said reluctantly.
"What? Oh, no, you have to stay and help me figure out a solution to this," Draco said, reaching out to grab Harry's arm and keep him from climbing out of the bed. "It's really quite problematic."
"How so?" Harry asked. "I just need to get out of the picture and let you get on with finding a wife. Now that you know why, it shouldn't be too hard to find someone."
"Oh no, Potter, it's not anywhere near that simple," Draco replied, smiling slightly. "I don't want just any old woman. In fact, I don't want any woman at all. I thought I made it quite clear last night that I want you."
"Wha- Oh."
"Yes, oh, indeed. Now, I'm assuming you have similar feelings?" Harry nodded. "Then stop being all Gryffindor noble and fight for it!"
"But you need to have a son and I, as you may have noticed, am lacking several key parts to do that!"
"There's always a way!"
"I'm not doing anything Dark, Draco."
"Well, then there might be a way," Draco revised. "Are you at least willing to find out?"
"What does this involve?"
"Fuck, Potter, I don't know!" Draco burst out. "It wasn't like I had a lot of spare time during school to read up on how two men could have children!"
"Well then, who do you suggest asking?" Harry shot back. "It's not like we can spend a lot of time on this without your parents getting suspicious. And even if we do find something, they're not likely to approve!" Draco shoved back the covers and started pacing the room.
"I'll get them to approve," he said. "If having an heir is really as important as they think it is, they can't object if we can figure out how to do it." He sighed. "I wish Snape were still here, I'm sure he would know."
"What about Slughorn?" Harry asked.
"He's an insufferable blowhard."
"He's an insufferable blowhard who knows a lot more about potions than we do. And if he doesn't know then we can ask Flitwick if there's a charm or ask McGonagall if something transfigurative might help."
"Fine." Draco said. "Put on some clothes."
˜*˜
They had slept quite late, so it was mid-afternoon when they arrived at Hogwarts and interrupted Professor Slughorn in the middle of his tea.
"Why, Harry and Draco, my boys, what a pleasant surprise!" Slughorn said cheerily, ushering them into his quarters and into two overstuffed chairs. "Your ball was a smashing success last night; certainly you deserve the highest accolades! Do come in, sit down, have some of this delectable candied pineapple; the under minister himself brought it by not three hours ago! I must admit to being rather surprised to see you moving outside the Manor at all today. What brings you here, of all places?"
"We have a question of a rather delicate nature, Professor," Draco said. "I trust we speak here in confidence?"
"But of course, my dear boy! Not a word of it shall leave my quarters!"
"Harry and I are looking for a way in which two men might bear children."
"My!" Slughorn looked rather taken aback. "That's most uncommon, surely, but not unheard of. I must counsel you though, that adoption is a much simpler and more successful solution."
"Heirs of Malfoy Manor must be by blood, Professor," Draco said. "We can't bend on that one, I'm afraid."
"Well then, there are a few things that come to mind, but the simplest is certainly polyjuice."
"What do you mean, Professor?" Harry asked.
"It's not commonly known, but if a bit of blood from a female who has just ovulated is collected for use in the polyjuice potion, anyone who takes the potion and turns into her will be fertile for that hour, men and women included. If a man taking the potion were to conceive during the time he was in the woman's body, he will not switch back when the potion wears off. He will remain in the woman's body for the duration of the pregnancy, only switching back when the child is born. There is some debate as to whether the form might remain through lactation, but as you can imagine, the circumstances in which this happens are so few and far between that we don't have many examples to work with."
"So if a man polyjuiced to be a woman conceives with the woman's eggs, is the child genetically the polyjuiced woman's or the man's?" Draco asked.
"We don't know, my dear boy, we simply don't know," Slughorn replied. "The last recorded example of this was in 1910. It would certainly be interesting to find out."
"You spoke of other options, Professor," Harry said. "What are those?"
"It's really quite complicated, Harry, any other options I could offer you are entirely experimental or even theoretical. There is some evidence to indicate a similar effect can be experienced during personal transfiguration, but most of the work is based off of the incomplete evidence supporting the polyjuice option. I believe there is an experimental charm being developed by Miss Lovegood, surely you remember her? She mentioned it during a visit to the school, my, almost three years ago now. I don't know if she ever perfected it or not, but I'd imagine she could make quite a lot of money if she had! Your situation is far from unique."
Harry's head whirled with thoughts and the room suddenly felt sickeningly warm.
"Pardon me, please, where is the loo?"
"Just down the hall, my dear boy," Slughorn said. "Are you all right, Harry, you look suddenly pale!"
"Just fine, sir, it's only lack of sleep," Harry mumbled, making his escape. As he left he heard Slughorn exclaim, "Oh, my, of course, how thoughtless of me, I ought not to have kept you this long!"
Harry moved quickly down the hall and into the loo, feeling weak and regretting his and Draco's decision to slip out of the Manor without finding something to eat. Slughorn's candied pineapple had done nothing for his blood sugar. He grasped the side of the sink, the cold metal in sharp contrast to his sweating hands. He heard the door open and saw Draco's reflection in the mirror. His mind flashed back to sixth year, when he and Draco had been in this same situation with the roles reversed. Draco raised his wand and Harry flinched, but Draco only looked at him oddly and conjured a sandwich and a banana.
"Are you all right?" he asked. Harry grabbed the banana and ate it.
"Harry." Draco was concerned.
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I'll be fine!" Harry said. "I just need a minute. That was a lot to take in at once."
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know, some sort of external pod or something!" Draco looked at him.
"Harry, I'll understand if you don't want to do this. I shouldn't even be asking. Never mind, forget it, I'll go find some nameless girl to marry and knock up and do this all the traditional way."
"No, Draco, I don't want-"
"No, really, it's all right, we can even still be secret lovers if you'd like," Draco said.
"No, Draco-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off again.
"We could even write it into the marriage contract, Harry, so I'm only obligated to fuck her when she's fertile and then the rest of the month I'd be with you. I'm sure we could-"
"Draco!"
"What?"
"Draco, I'm not going to spend my life as your whore, nor will I allow you to marry some poor girl and treat her like one," Harry said. "I'll try the polyjuice."
"What?" Draco said.
"I'll try the polyjuice."
For the second time within twenty-four hours Harry found himself abruptly kissing Draco Malfoy. This time he didn't hesitate to respond, to push into Draco's mouth and let his hands roam down his body. He felt Draco's erection rise to push against his belly and the uncomfortable tightening as his own cock rose as well. Draco's hands were fumbling with Harry's belt, freeing his erection, pushing down his trousers and stroking his length. Harry bucked against Draco's hands, and then the blonde's lips left his as he kneeled to take Harry into his mouth.
"Draco, Merlin, yesssss." Harry's breath left him as Draco's lips sucked up and down his cock and his hands pressed Harry's hips back against the cold wall. The temperature change, the warmth of Draco's mouth, the caresses of his hands, his tongue as he lavished the underside of Harry's cock; it all built up until Harry could take no more and came, spurting down Draco's open throat. Draco stood up and Harry could taste himself in the other man's mouth.
"Want to be inside you, Harry," Draco mumbled against Harry's lips. "Turn around." Harry obeyed, leaning over and bracing himself once again on the sides of the sink. He heard Draco mutter the spell for lubrication and gasped as the other man pushed in without bothering to stretch him first. The pain and pleasure served to bring his flaccid cock back to attention, and as Draco began to thrust he reached around to stroke Harry's erection.
"I've wanted you like this for so long, Harry," Draco panted, increasing the pace of his strokes and thrusts until Harry cried out and came a second time, coating the pipes under the sink with his come. Draco came a split second later and their cries mingled.
"Merlin, Harry, that was phenomenal," Draco said softly, still breathing heavily as he slipped out and reached over to pull Harry's hands off the sink and into his. Harry leaned forward and kissed him once more, long and slow.
˜*˜
There's more, of course, my friends, but that's a story for another day. The last flakes of snow are now dancing down in the sunlight; the storm is over.
More? Perhaps a bit. Narcissa was none too pleased with her son's choice, but Lucius' romantic notions brought her around eventually. It took Harry and Draco almost two and a half years to conceive, but they succeeded and it was only two years ago that Harry bore a child, christened James Lucius. Lucius had a few precious months as a grandfather before the Manor took him.
What's that you ask? Well, the child does look more like Harry and Draco than me, I suppose. He has my eyes though. They bring him around every so often to visit, and I do enjoy seeing them all. Oh, look! They're coming up the path right now!
"Harry, Draco, come in! I believe there's a bit of cocoa left and the coals are giving off such a lovely heat."
"Auntie Katie, Auntie Katie, look, I make a snowball!"
"How exciting, Jamie! But let's leave it outside for now, all right? Come in and warm up and talk to Auntie Katie's friends. I was just telling them all about you!"