Warnings: pre-slash, language, a wee bit of angst
Word count: 827
Disclaimer: Owned by J.K. Rowling
Summary: Dinner and a bit more!
A/N: Written for jamie2109 and nocturnali's AWDT prompt of I am going to have my way with you one day...if that's okay with you.
Also…this is Part 3 of the Not Quite Perfect arc.
Part 1 here: http://chisox727.livejournal.com/23814.html#cutid1
Part 2 here: http://chisox727.livejournal.com/24447.html#cutid2
Draco had to admit, Potter’s home was classy. After changing and freshening up, he was wandering the living area while listening to Potter whistle to Gershwin music. Currently he was in the main room, admiring a piece of art on the wall and drinking a glass of Riesling.
“Is this a Eugene Delacroix piece?” Draco asked, eyes glued to the artwork above the mantel.
Harry, who had just placed a serving dish of vegetables down on the table in the adjoining dining room answered, “Yes. The original used to hang in my parents home. This is a copy, but I like it.”
“It’s quite lovely. A copy you say?” Draco said, sipping on his wine. “I wouldn’t have known. Do you have any other pieces by him?”
“No. Just the one. Dinner is about to be served, if you’d like to take a seat.”
Draco turned and followed the delicious scents to his seat at the table. He was a bit uncomfortable, if the truth was to be told. Potter was making an effort to make him feel at home, but it was Potter, and Draco was not really ready to be graced by his company.
Harry lit the candles, causing an eyebrow to rise on Draco’s face.
“It’s for ambiance and to balance the smell of the onions,” Harry replied, almost too quickly.
Dinner was served and as they ate, Draco realized that Harry had no idea what to talk to him about. They discussed all the small talk items they could, successfully skating around the topics of war, Hogwarts, Dumbledore and all their dead classmates. The two men talked about Muggle and magical sports, local politics and current literature. They argued over Potter’s choice of familiars and Draco was slowly getting to the point where he had had enough wine to ask the question he was most curious about.
And Potter was right. He did serve a mean onion, tomato and leek pie.
“All right, Potter. You told me you’d give me some answers if I came here tonight and I want some answers. I want to know why you’re here.” He took a sip of wine and waited for the other shoe to drop.
“In New York? In Chelsea? In this house?” Harry said, his smile blooming on his face.
Draco’s eyes closed to mere slits.
“I already answered that at the market today.”
“Listen Potter,” Draco said, his voice rising, “I don’t know why you’re here or who sent you...”
Harry’s eye’s widened in surprise as he questioned, “Who sent me?”
“…but I don’t appreciate you waltzing into my neighborhood…”
Harry laughed, “I didn’t ‘waltz’, Draco.”
“…and what’s with that…’Draco’…I thought I told you not to call me by my name. We’re on a last name basis, Potter, and…”
“Isn’t your ‘last’ name still a name, Draco?” Harry smirked as he asked.
“…I don’t appreciate you waltzing into my neighborhood and mucking up my market and thinking that you can make me Spring Onion Pie or whatever and everything will be okay,” Draco ended in a huff.
Harry stood and came to sit next to Draco, rather than across the table. Draco stiffened but faced him head on.
“Listen, I’ll call you 'Malfoy' again if it makes you feel better, but I really am here only for you,” Harry began.
“You don’t have to call me 'Malfoy',” Draco said, relaxing the tiniest bit.
“I took an extended vacation from my job to come to New York. I really have been here twice before. That much is true. I got the dogs for company because I couldn’t stay in this house all alone,” Harry continued.
Draco’s shoulders dropped as his defensive wall came down. He didn’t know why, but Harry’s voice was calming.
“I’m here, Draco, because I wanted to see you again,” Harry said earnestly. “I am here to see what happened to you. I am here to see why you left.”
Draco closed his eyes, afraid to face Harry’s honesty. He took a sip of wine and savored the tart taste on his tongue. He was afraid to even breathe.
“Draco, I am here because of you. I am here to see if there is any truth to what everyone has always said to me when they said that there was an undeniable energy between us. And I am here because I am going to have my way with you one day...if that's okay with you.”
With those words, Draco spat out the wine in his mouth, nearly drenching Harry, and his eyes went comically wide. “You’re…what? You’re…”
He jumped up and spun around looking for something…anything to ground himself, to make it make sense. Looking into Harry’s eyes, finally, he realized that nothing was okay. None of this made sense.
With those thoughts circulating in his head, he grabbed his keys off the end table and ran out the door.