Coveting Thy Enemy

Chapter Four: Sleeping Alone

By Elani


Harry lay down quietly next to Craig, pulling the covers over himself. He tried his best to relax and not to wake the sleeping man next to him. Craig had gone to bed early that night, clearly displeased with the new living arrangement, and Harry had taken his time in the bathroom, hoping he would be asleep when he came to bed. All Harry’s hopes were for naught, though, when Craig rolled over and turned the light on.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on, now?” Craig asked. He was sitting up with his arms crossed, waiting for an answer.

Harry sat up, too. “I told you already, Draco got into some trouble . . .”

“What kind of trouble?” the brunette interrupted.

Harry took a gulp of air, “His wife was murdered, and her father thinks he did it. Her father’s a very powerful man in the world of magic, so Dumbledore sent Draco here to stay with me until the situation’s resolved.”

Craig raised both his eyebrows, “So, we could have a murderer living under our roof?”

“No. Draco is not a murderer, believe me.”

“Fine, he’s not a murderer, but he is an insensitive, egotistical . . .”

“Yes, I know,” Harry agreed before Craig could finish.

“That still doesn’t explain your situation at Hogwart’s, Harry. What is he to you? I know, you said he was a friend, but I have a feeling there’s a lot more you haven’t told me. Were you lovers?”

“I think you already know that,” Harry said, simply. He squared his shoulder as if preparing for battle.

Craig’s face turned a shade that Harry didn’t think was humanly possible until he saw it. “You’re telling me, we not only have a suspected murder in our apartment, but your ex-lover as well?” he asked, his voice taking on a pitch that made Harry grimace.

“Well, yes, but he really doesn’t remember anything about us.”

Craig’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but I think you should leave.”


“You heard me,” Craig said, getting out of bed and opening the closet. He pulled out a blanket and an extra pillow. “Go sleep on the couch, lover boy,” he said, jamming the linens against Harry’s chest.


Draco curled up in the armchair, staring at the fire. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he tried, so he decided to sit up until he was tired. Today had been a very eventful day, and his head was still spinning about the strange turn of events he was now engrossed in. There were a lot of questions spinning about his brain that he did not want to answer, but he knew he had to. If he was going to stay here one more day, he had to put his thoughts into order. He had let years go by without facing the truth, but now here it was, staring him back in the face. He could either turn his back on it, or he could face it once and for all.

He had been involved with Harry Potter. There, the world didn’t stop spinning on its axis, the walls didn’t cave in, and the sky didn’t come tumbling down. All this time he had been denying the evidence that a relationship had existed, and what did it help? It didn’t help at all. He had married a woman who could have been no more than a friend, he was a suspected murderer, and now he had to live with his ex-boyfriend and his bastard of a lover. Things probably would have been a lot different if he would have accepted Harry all those years ago. But, it really hadn’t been that easy. When he woke up in that hospital cot and couldn’t remember an entire year of his life, it had unnerved him. Then, Harry rushed in, kissed him, and he found out he had lived a completely different life than had expected that year. He had coveted his enemy, his enemy for Gods sakes. Who would believe that? Not only that, at that point he didn’t even know he was gay. And, to add insult to injury, he had killed his own father. Who wouldn’t insist that it was all a fairytale?

Draco realized he had probably lost any chances he had had with Harry. After all, the Gryffindor had moved on with his life. But, still, he couldn’t deny the stab of jealousy that had hit him when Craig had all but attacked Harry in the kitchen. He also couldn’t deny how beautiful Harry’s eyes were, and the fact that he had found his green. Christ, he was becoming a mad man! Still, he could lose himself in those eyes. He could drown in that vivid shade of green and hope that no one would try to save him. His thoughts were put to a halt when Harry entered the room and flopped onto the couch.

Draco noticed the pillow and blanket Harry was situating around him, and couldn’t help but to make a remark. “Troubles in the bedroom, Potter?”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” said a very disgruntled Harry.

Draco stood up and took a seat closer to the couch. “I’m sorry, you know, about being here, causing problems between you and him,” he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bedroom.

“It’s all right,” Harry said, fluffing the pillow behind his back. “Like you said, you really had no choice in the matter.”

“Yea, but you did,” Draco said softly. “Why did you agree to it, Harry?”

“Dumbledore asked me to,” Harry said simply. “Besides, we may not get along, but I really don’t want to see you killed, Draco.”

Draco arched an eyebrow, and Harry wondered where he picked up that expression. “So, are we on first name turns, then?”

“I guess so.”

The two men were silent for several minutes, both gathering their thoughts. Finally, Draco spoke. “I should probably get to bed. You’re probably tired.”

“No, I’m not. I never really sleep much to be honest. You can stay,” Harry said, refusing to admit to himself that he didn’t want Draco to go.

Another gap of silence, and then, “Why did you marry Corinna Fudge?”

Draco rested his chin on his fist and replied, “I really don’t know. I guess it was expected, you know, a Malfoy to marry someone of the right status and all.”

“Did you love her?”

“No. Not in the way I should have, anyway. She was a good friend, and it hurt when she passed away.” Harry noticed Draco’s eyes were a little shinier than usual, but the Slytherin would not let the tears fall. He rubbed his eyes with his thumbs and forefingers to stop himself from crying. “She was allowed to do whatever she wanted, see anyone she wanted.”

Harry nodded, “The Prophet said . . .”

“I know, it said the baby wasn’t mine. It wasn’t. I would have accepted it though, as an heir.”

“Why? You could have children of your own . . .”

“Christ, Harry, you damn well that I’m gay,” Draco said, with a bitter laugh.

Harry blushed, a shade that seemed even brighter when hit by the glow of the flames in the fireplace. “You’re right, I do. Does that mean you accept everything, everything that happened that year?”

Draco’s smile had a hint of sadness behind it. “Yes, I guess so. I mean, I can’t remember a damn thing about it, but all the evidence seems to suggest that it’s true. Maybe you can tell me about it, fill me in on the gaps that no one else could fill. After all, you were a big part of it.”

Harry sighed deeply, “It was a long time ago.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Were we . . . Were we in love?” Draco asked, the tips of his ears were turning a bright pink.

“Yesss,” Harry said softly, hissing the word.

Draco didn’t reply. His heart had skipped a beat when Harry had answered his question, and he really didn’t know what to say next. So, he decided to let Harry speak.

“Your father and Voldemort tried to use it against us. Lucius was going to kill me, but you offered yourself instead. When he tried the Avada Kedavra on you, it reflected back on himself.”

“I know,” Draco said, rubbing his scar that was hidden beneath his silk pyjama top. “The question is - why didn’t it kill me?”

“Because, I saved your life. Earlier in the year, the giant squid attacked you, and I went in and rescued you. Since I risked my life for you out of love, the Avada Kedavra couldn’t harm you. That’s also the reason why it didn’t hurt me when I was a baby. My mother risked her life for me, but died.”

“So, it really wasn’t my fault my father died?” Draco asked, his eyes wide.

“Well, no. Why, did you think that?” Harry asked with concern.

“Yes. Thanks, Harry. You’ve cleared a lot of things up.”

“No problem,” Harry said, leaning back against his pillow.

Draco stood up and looked down at the Gryffindor. Gods, I want to kiss you. I want to run my fingers through that wavy, unruly hair and kiss you until you love me again. “I should get to bed.”

Harry looked up into silver eyes that were reflecting the flames of the fire. I wish you would kneel down here and kiss me like you used to. But you can’t, that was a long time ago, and you don’t remember, and I have someone else now, someone who I don’t want to hurt. Gods, I still love you, and I always will. Damn fate, damn it to hell. “Good night, Draco,” he said quietly. The silver-haired man padded into the guest room, and all three men spent the night alone.

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