Beren (beren_writes) wrote,

Belated Birthday Wishes - November

This is my last belated birthday post for November.

Happy Birthday for November to:
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Title: Gift Wrapped
Author: Beren
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG13

Harry stumbled through the door to his room and stopped dead. He'd had his own room since returning to school to complete his seventh year because he had rather loud nightmares about everything that had happened. It seemed this was a good thing since there was an almost naked, very annoyed looking, gagged and bound Draco Malfoy sitting in the middle of his bed.

"What the hell?" he asked the room in general.

Malfoy made a noise of derision and glared at him. The fact was, the only thing Malfoy was wearing was a very large bow covering his modesty and yet somehow still seemed to manage cool arrogance.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, deciding that other questions could wait until he had released the Slytherin.

He used his wand to cut the sturdy roped and carefully undid the gag himself.

"What happened?"

"Your friends happened, Potter," Malfoy all but snarled back. "They ambushed me in the dungeons."

"But why?" Harry asked, grabbing the first garment he could find and passing it to Malfoy.

"Clearly they thought you would relish having me gagged and bound and I assume the naked part is some further humiliation."

"I'll bloody kill them," he responded and Malfoy looked startled. "The war's over, we're supposed to be beyond all this ridiculousness now. Or don't you agree?"

Malfoy looked honestly shocked.

"No," Malfoy agreed, "I think you're right."

It had to be the first time they had ever agreed on anything without a fight.

"But," Malfoy added, voice growing hard again, "our compatriots clearly do not agree."

Harry decided not to mention that Malfoy was now wearing a Weasley jumper that had somehow been crossed with a stretching charm in an ill-advised Charms experiment. He didn't want any hysterics in his room.

"Are you okay, they didn't hurt you did they?" he asked and did his best to look away from Malfoy's long, pale, shapely legs that were poking out of the bottom of the jumper.

He might possibly have woken up to a few things since the weight of Voldemort's soul had been lifted from his. One such thing was that boys were as interesting to him as girls and another, that Ginny was an incredible friend and, after all was said and done, made a better surrogate sister than girlfriend. That last one had been something of a mutual discovery.

"The only thing damaged is my pride, Potter," Malfoy replied, "and I believe that will recover. However, your friends will not when I get my hands on them and they do not have surprise on their side."

"I might be willing to help," he said as his hormones tried to get him into even more trouble. "Are you going to tell McGonagall about this?"

He probably wouldn't be blamed, but he knew the disappointed look that the headmistress would get on her face. He hated that look; it was more trouble than Dumbledore's twinkling had ever been. Silence greeted his question and he looked up.

"Potter," Malfoy said in a very even, totally unreadable tone, "were you ogling me?"

With dread Harry realised while his forebrain had been contemplating McGonagall his hindbrain had carried on its own sweet way and had led his eyes back to Malfoy's legs. Normally he could have winged it and denied everything, but he was still recovering from the shock of finding a naked Malfoy on his bed. He blushed and totally failed to deny anything.

"Um ..."

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow.

"Bloody hell, you were," Malfoy sounded surprised and Harry realised he totally would have been believed if he had just said no.

"Sorry," he apologised.

"Why," was not exactly what he expected next, possibly a scathing putdown, definitely not a reasonable question.


"Just answer the question, Potter."

"You have nice legs," he replied lamely.

"Since when do you like boy's legs?"

"Since every part of my life stopped beginning with 'but what if Voldemort...'."

Malfoy grimaced at the name even though the Dark Lord was dead.

"Why do you care?" Harry questioned.

"I make it my business to understand you, Potter; it makes sound tactical sense. How did I miss this?"

"I haven't exactly advertised it."

"Is this why you ended it with the Weaselette?"

Harry frowned at the term to show his displeasure, but he and Malfoy were having a civilised conversation he did not wish to derail, so he did not comment on it.

"No, we just decided we were better friends. If you must know I like the legs of both boys and girls."

It was an utterly ridiculous thing to say, but it made his point. Malfoy smirked at him for his trouble.

"So do I."

He did a double take because he had never in a million years expected Malfoy to admit to something so personal, to him of all people.


"Really," Malfoy replied and sat down on the bed looking surprisingly relaxed for someone who had been trussed up like a turkey only moments before. "Why waste these talents on only girls?"

Harry couldn't help smiling at Malfoy's familiar arrogance.

"Why indeed," he replied and grinned. "So where are your clothes and wand?"

"Under the bed I think," Malfoy replied and so Harry went to retrieve them.

There was a pile of foreign things sitting right there so he pulled them out.

"Here," he said and Malfoy rolled his eyes and sighed.

"You really are hopeless," was the Slytherin's succinct opinion.

Harry wasn't sure what he had done.

"Potter, when a bloke tells another bloke what we just told each other, it's an opening," Malfoy told him. "Especially when one of those blokes is wearing nothing but a very ugly jumper (do not think I didn't notice)."

Harry blinked and tried to catch up.

"Oh, by Merlin's beard," Malfoy said and then grabbed him and kissed him.

It was a very nice kiss. In fact it was a very, very nice kiss and when Harry's brain caught up with what was happening he joined in very enthusiastically. Maybe he wouldn't kill his friends after all, maybe he'd buy them all chocolate frogs instead.

This entry was originally posted at
Tags: info: birthdays, type: fiction

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