alisanne

Title: Change of Plans
Author:

alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: When a work assignment messes up Draco's plans, he has to improvise.
Word Count: 1530
Genre: Humor
Warnings: None.
A/N: Written for

slythindor100's prompt #66, to use the provided list of words in a ficlet. List is below.
Beta:

sevfan
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

Stress
Kink
Bend
American
Air
Rain
Dishes
Sofa
Line
Argue
Seam
Bread
Want
Height
Bracelet
Leather
Chat
Finger
Greek
Foot

~

Change of Plans

~

Cursing under his breath, Harry stalked to his office. He flung the door open and, in his stress, he kicked it hard with his foot as he walked through it. Unfortunately, the worst possible person witnessed his tantrum.

“Are we going to have to have another chat about beating up your office, Potter? I’m beginning to think you’re a bit kinky.”

Harry sighed. Of course Draco was there waiting for him. That was just his luck.

“Piss off, bent bastard,” he muttered, brushing past.

Draco smirked. “Oh, pot, kettle, Potter. You only wish you could bend me over the nearest desk.”

Harry sighed. Draco was constantly pushing him, and Harry wished again that he could come out to his partner and let him know that he was gay and he didn’t appreciate the slurs. Then he thought about the abuse Draco would no doubt submit him to and he pressed his lips into a firm line, curbing his instinctive response. “Whatever,” he growled, slumping into his chair.

Draco gracefully uncurled from his position propped against the wall and glided over. “Mmm, much as I love the banter, there’s a reason you’re assaulting inanimate objects. Is it our next assignment, perchance?”

Harry nodded. “Tonks has put us on a special case. We’re tracking some bloody American that’s on the run in the Highlands.”

“An American?” Malfoy was inspecting his nails with a nonchalant air. “Is there a reason this Muggle should concern us?”

Harry sighed. “He’s not a Muggle, he’s a Squib. And he’s stolen an artefact from the American version of the Ministry of Magic.”

Draco perked up. “Really?” he drawled. “Crafty sod. What’s he stolen?”

Harry began to answer, but Draco cut him off, checking his pocket watch. “Oh, it’s almost five! That’ll have to wait. You can tell me tomorrow.”

Harry shook his head. “You don’t get it. We start today,” he said. “Best go pack your things.”

“Now? But... it’s raining,” Draco complained. “And I had plans for tonight.”

Harry rolled his eyes. "So sorry to interfere with your social life, Malfoy,” he snapped. “I’ll just go tell our boss we have to put everything on hold so you can get one last shag in, shall I?”

“You think that would work?”

Harry closed his eyes, exasperated. “With Tonks? What do you think? Although, if you really want to see the business end of her wand...”

Draco shot an evil look at Harry before flopping down onto the sofa facing his desk. “Fine,” he muttered. “What time are we leaving?”

“Our Portkey leaves in an hour,” Harry said, holding up matching leather bracelets. “One’s to get there and the other is to return.”

“An hour?” Draco sat up. “Right, I have just enough time. See you in a bit, Potter.”

“What? No...” To Harry’s chagrin, Draco ignored him, not even staying to argue. He walked over to the Floo, and after grabbing a handful of powder, left in a flash of green fire.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered into the empty room. “Whatever. It’s not as if I had any plans.”

~

“Why would anyone hide in these Merlin-forsaken woods?” Draco whinged.

“Shut UP!” Harry growled. “We’re supposed to be sneaking up on him.”

“Oh please. I cast Muffliato on us a while back,” Draco said airily. “Now, are you going to tell me what artefact we’re tracking, or do I have to use Legilimency on you?”

“We’re looking for a set of, um, dishes, or something,” Harry said, distracted.

Draco’s eyes widened and he grasped Harry’s arm tightly, his fingers squeezing painfully. “What? Dishes? As in plates? Are they Greek plates by any chance?”

Harry paused, glancing at Draco before continuing to scan the surroundings carefully. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, they are. Didn’t I tell you that?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “No,” he said, his lips pressed into a line. “So we’re hunting the Samothrace Plates, then?”

“Yeah, that’s the name Tonks said.” Harry was still focussed on the surroundings and so missed the signs of the impending argument. “I guess that means you’ve heard of them.”

“Potter, everyone knows about Samothrace. They are the stuff of legend. Did you even pay attention in History of Magic?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Pretend I didn’t,” he said. “Tell me about these legendary dishes. What do they do?”

“They’re not just dishes. They’re powerful artefacts. They reputedly have untold powers, and it’s said that they boost the magic of anyone who possesses them.”

“So why would a Squib want them?”

“Well, Squibs supposedly have some magic, just not enough to manifest in a useful way. Maybe he wants to have magical powers.”

“Hmm, good thought.”

“I’d really love to know how he got away with them in the first place,” Draco said.

“Mmm. Right now I’d love a sandwich,” Harry said.

“Oh for... We’re searching for possibly some of the most famous magical artifacts ever, and you want bread?”

Harry shrugged. “Even a piece of fruit would do,” he said. “I’m hungry.”

“How can you think about food at a time like this?”

“Skipped breakfast and lunch.”

“Well that was stupid.” Draco pulled himself up to his full height and began lecturing. “I should have thought that your girlfriend would have explained that you cannot skip meals, it’s not healthy.”

“Except I don’t have a girlfriend,” Harry said absently.

“Boyfriend, then,” Draco said, smirking.

“Yeah, I wish...” Harry’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “Erm, I mean...”

Draco had stopped and was staring at him, making Harry nervous with the scrutiny. “Who told you?” he finally asked, voice low.

Harry shook his head. “What? Told me what? I don’t know what you...”

“Someone told you I’m gay, didn’t they?” Draco said, looking away, visibly upset. “And now you’re going to mock me for it, aren’t you?”

“You’re gay?”

Draco blinked. “You mean you really didn’t know?”

Harry shrugged. “How would I know? Actually, I figured you had an inkling about me since you kept making gay jokes...”

Draco, eyebrow raised, stepped closer. “Maybe that was wishful thinking,” he said, eyes focussed on Harry’s lips.

“What? But you have a boyfriend.”

Draco blinked. “I do? Since when?”

“You said you had plans tonight,” Harry replied.

“Dinner at Pansy’s,” Draco said. “She and Blaise take pity on me occasionally. Otherwise I’m just home alone. That may be changing soon, though.”

“What are you...?”

“Shh,” Draco whispered, pushing Harry up against a conveniently placed tree trunk. “You do realize this explains the tension between us, yes?”

“Malfoy...”

“Draco.” At Harry’s puzzled look, Draco smiled. “Since I’m about to put my tongue in your mouth, I think you can call me Draco, don’t you?”

Harry blinked, then moaned as Draco slanted his mouth over his, nibbling at the seam of Harry’s lips. They parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside and wrap tantalizingly around Harry’s. They rocked together, Harry allowing his legs to open and permit Draco to stand between them.

When Draco took his mouth away from Harry’s to scatter kisses along his jaw and throat, Harry sagged against him, struggling to clear his head.

“Fuck, Draco... We have... to finish the... assignment,” he murmured, even as his hand threaded through Draco’s hair, urging him closer.

Draco raised his head. “Mmm, so we do. Better wrap this up, then. So, are you still good at catching things?”

Harry blinked. “Er, what?” he asked, still a bit dazed.

Draco rolled his eyes. “We have to apprehend the Yank and recover the Samothrace plates, yeah?”

Harry nodded.

“And you’re sure he’s here in these woods?”

“Reasonably sure, yes,” Harry said.

“Right. Accio Samothrace Plates!”

Harry had several seconds to prepare before two dishes sailed towards them. Stretching out a hand, he caught one, Draco neatly snagging the other.

“What about the...” Harry paused as a man came running through the woods towards them.

“Incarcerous!” Draco yelled, and the man was down, wrapped snugly in ropes.

Draco reached under Harry’s robes and began feeling about his trousers.

“Draco, he can see us,” Harry hissed, trying to ignore his body’s immediate response to Draco’s explorations.

Draco smirked, pulling his hand out. He was holding the leather bracelet that was their Portkey back. “Relax, Harry,” he said. “I hadn’t planned any exhibitionism, at least not yet.”

Harry was still blushing brightly as he levitated the detainee in preparation to return, but it occurred to him as they stood waiting for the Portkey to activate that they could have recovered the dishes a lot sooner than they had.

“Did you plan this?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Plan what?” Draco asked, looking guileless.

Harry shook his head.

Draco snickered as he stepped close. He cupped Harry’s arse just as the Portkey pulled them home.

When they landed, Draco murmured, “Now would I do that?”

Harry smiled. “Well you did say you had plans this evening,” he said, watching as the prisoner was taken to a cell.

Draco inclined his head, heated gaze raking Harry from head to toe. “Oh, I still do,” he said. “I still think you’re a kinky bugger, Harry. Time to show me just how kinky.”

Harry grinned. The night was looking up.

~