Author: lady_myriad

Rating: R

Challenge: #22. Draco can't access the family accounts and craves things he can no longer afford. To his astonishment, these things start showing up for him with no note. He can't understand why, but then overhears Harry placing an order for him.

Warnings: Hints of unrequited Blaise/Draco.

Notes: I apologise in advance for any crappiness, as that is entirely my fault and should not be blamed on either of my lovely betas. I took a slightly different take on the approach, in that Draco is actually disowned – not that he is merely unable to access the accounts – and that Draco doesn't overhear Harry placing an order. It's essentially the same, however. I apologise for the cliché of LeatherPants!Draco, but I had to do it. Also, thanks to my betas, Krid and Linds, most especially to Linds, who helped me out monumentally with some of the more... difficult scenes, and basically wrote the smut for me *grin*, and to Krid, who was a wonderful nit-picker. Thank you to you both!

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"It's a bloody stupid idea to begin with anyway!" Draco ranted to an amused looking Blaise Zabini. "Why in the bloody hell would you want to follow that insipid, disgusting sack of flesh – if it can be called that – in the first place?"

"I quite agree," Blaise said, nodding. "Definitely. However, it's well past two o'clock, and we have classes tomorrow, so I suggest we go to sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak," Draco replied, scowling at his Housemate. "Besides, I need to formulate a suitably scathing reply to...to Lucius' letter. Are you going to help me or aren't you?" Draco drew himself up to his full height – which was still a good two or three inches below Blaise's – and glared up at him.

"Sorry, Drake," Blaise replied, deliberately using the nickname that Draco hated, "But even sleep is better than spending quality time with you. I'm going to bed."

"I can't believe you!" Draco raged. "Here I am, an emotional wreck after being disowned, and you have the gall to tell me that sleep is better than helping me compose a letter in reply to Lucius'?"

Draco had a tendency to talk in italics when he was upset.

"Unfortunately, yes, Draco," Blaise replied, covering up a yawn. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, yes? Have fun composing your letter."

"You ungrateful bastard!" Draco said loudly. "Have you no heart whatsoever?! I thought you loved me! I am never speaking to you again! How dare you – "

"Goodnight, Draco," Blaise said over his shoulder as he ascended the stairs to the seventh-year boys' dormitories.

" – after everything I've helped you with, you...FINE! I'll get you back, Blaise Zabini, you mark my words!" Draco yelled.

"I can't heeeear you!" Blaise sing-songed in reply.

It was splashed over the front page of The Daily Prophet the next morning, predictably.

"Can you believe it?" Ron said excitedly in the Great Hall at breakfast. "Malfoy's been disowned! He's never going to be able to tease me again! Oh, this is absolutely classic!"

"Ron, don't be so horrible," Hermione interjected, frowning at him. "That's a very uncharitable approach. Think about how Malfoy must be feeling at the moment!"

"Are you kidding?" Ron scoffed. "Malfoy doesn't have feelings. And anyway, the wanker deserves it! Why are you sticking up for him, Hermione?"

"I'm not sticking up for him, Ronald," Hermione snapped back. "I'm merely pointing out that he probably won't be feeling his best at the moment, and that you ought to have a bit more sympathy for him!"

"What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Hmm, what?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off the newspaper in front of him.

"About Malfoy," Ron replied impatiently. "Isn't fantastic that he's been disowned?"

"Yeah, Ron, fantastic," Harry replied absent-mindedly as he read the lengthy column with an uncharacteristic interest.

"See?" Ron said triumphantly to his girlfriend. "Harry thinks so, too!"

"He does not," Hermione replied. "He's just too busy reading the article to pay any attention to what you're actually saying, and therefore is agreeing with what you're asking so as to placate you and stop you from irritating and annoying him." Once again, Hermione had hit the nail squarely on the head.

"Is that true, Harry?" Ron asked his best mate, looking at him with a wounded expression.

"Yeah, of course, Ron," Harry mumbled. Ron muttered under his breath and glared darkly at the smug young woman next to him.

At that moment, the doors on the other side of the Great Hall opened to reveal Draco Malfoy, backed by all of Slytherin House.

"That's a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" Hermione said under her breath to Ron.

"A bit melodramatic!" Ron replied loudly. "He looks absolutely stupid!"

Hearing Ron's loud proclamation, Draco's head snapped in their direction. Smirking, he slowly sauntered over to their table until he was standing directly in front of Ron, who had turned around to look at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron asked aggressively. "Come over to beg for money, have you?"

Draco laughed. He has the audacity to laugh at me! Ron thought.

"I don't think I've sunk to your level quite yet, Weasel. In more ways than one," he replied smoothly, eyes flickering quite deliberately over Hermione's bushy-haired form. Hermione bristled, glaring up at Malfoy.

"What on earth is going on here?" Professor McGonagall asked, having swept up behind the table. "Why are you wearing that ridiculous get-up, Mr. Malfoy? You ought to know that students are expected to wear only their school uniforms on school days, and you are no exception."

"I'm afraid I have permission from Professor Snape to wear this clothing, Professor," Draco replied, smirking as he handed over a piece of parchment.

McGonagall viewed it with a critical eye, whilst the other students wondered what special exception it was that could allow Malfoy to wear that to class.

Finally, McGonagall passed the note back to Draco, saying as she did so, "I'm very sorry to hear about your loss, Mr. Malfoy." Then, after a quick shoo'ing of the Slytherins to their table, she swept up to the teachers' table.

"His loss?" Hermione asked rhetorically, brow furrowed. "What loss?"

"His mother died," Ginny replied. "It was in the newspaper article."

"But...he didn't seem in the least upset!" Hermione replied. "How could someone not be upset over their mother dying?"

"Malfoy, apparently," Ron said. "I told you the git didn't have any feelings."

"Ron!" Hermione admonished, but without any real feeling.

"How does that excuse his dress?" Seamus asked.

"Traditional Malfoy mourning outfit," Lavender piped up, who seem to be quite an expert on the Malfoys, for an inexplicable reason. "They're required, by obligation, to wear that for seven days after the death of a close relative."

"But wasn't Malfoy just disowned?" Ron asked, his mind boggling.

Dean shrugged. "I guess he'd use any excuse to wear something other than the school uniform. I know I would."

"Who wears a cape these days?"

"And black leather trousers?"

"It looked like leather boots, too."

"And a vest with the Malfoy crest embroidered on it? Honestly."

"Where's Harry?" Ron interrupted, looking around. He was nowhere to be seen.

"He must have slipped out earlier, when we were...talking to Malfoy," Hermione said, frowning. "That's odd."

"Maybe he just wanted to get to Potions early," Neville said helpfully.

"Speaking of which, we ought to be getting there ourselves," Hermione said. "Come on, Ron, we don't want to be late!"

Harry, however, hadn't left the table to get to Potions early; in fact, he'd gone back up to the dormitory to get his Invisibility Cloak, which was now stuffed in his pocket. He hurried down to Potions, not wanting to be late.

"Where did you go at breakfast, Harry?" Hermione asked later that night, in the common room.

"Oh, I'd forgotten my Potions text," Harry mumbled. "Sorry."

Hermione, who knew that he hadn't forgotten his Potions text, as he'd dropped it on Ron's toe on the way down to breakfast, just nodded and didn't press the subject.

"Harry, mate, do you want to play a game of Wizarding Chess?" Ron asked.

"No, thanks, Ron, I'm going to go to bed," Harry replied, the tips of his ears turning pink. "I'm a bit tired."

Ron gave his friend an odd look, but just said, "Okay, mate, maybe another time, then."

"Sure. 'Night, Hermione," Harry said, closing his textbooks and taking them upstairs with him.

Two weeks later, Harry once again went to be early – but not merely to have time to think this time.

Once Harry was sure that everyone would think he was asleep, he covered himself with his Invisibility Cloak and slipped out of the Gryffindor common room, making his way towards the dungeons.

Whilst he was shuffling along with the Marauder's map safely in hand, two dots – labelled Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson – turned around the corner of the corridor he was in. Terrified, Harry pressed himself up against the cold stone of the dungeon's wall, trying frantically to check whether or not he had a stray foot showing.

"It's just going to be a lot more difficult to live in the manner I'm accustomed to now that...well, you know, Pansy," Draco was saying to the other Slytherin, their heads tilted towards each other as they walked.

Harry quietly removed himself from the wall and started following them down to the Slytherin common room, trying not to make even the slightest of sounds. Fortunately, Draco and Pansy seemed engrossed in their conversation.

"I know, Draco, but I don't think I'll be able to help you very much," Pansy replied. "My parents watch my money very carefully, to make sure I'm not using it for anything I shouldn't. I'll do my best, though."

Draco let out a large sigh. "Thanks anyway, Panse," he said, wondering how he'd stooped to asking anyone for financial help after just two weeks.

"Sorry, Draco," the Slytherin girl replied. "Really."

Draco shrugged half-heartedly, already lost in his own thoughts again.

When they reached the common room, Pansy whispered the password – Slytherin habit, Harry thought – and followed Draco through the door that appeared. Harry slipped in after her, his cloak nearly catching as the door swung closed.

Considering it was still fairly early – only 11pm or so – Harry was surprised to see that there was so few in the Slytherin common room. He saw Draco meet the eyes of one or two, inclining his head slightly, and then went straight to what was presumably his room.

Draco left the door open for a while, so Harry was easily able to slink inside, choosing a spot in a dark corner to settle himself cross-legged.

He watched as the Slytherin paced around the room for quite a while, holding a piece of parchment in his hand and alternately gazing at it and muttering quietly to himself. Finally, he sat down at his desk, pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and began to write on it, occasionally staring at the wall before dipping his quill back into the ink and writing again with renewed vigour.

Overcome by curiosity, Harry stood up, trying not to allow the cloak to rustle. Tip-toeing over the plush carpet, he stood behind and to the left of Draco, slightly heady from the closeness of proximity to the other boy. Trying to keep focused on the task at hand, Harry looked down at the parchment and began to read the neatly scrawled words.

Dear Lucius,

I must say, I'm rather disappointed that you thought to put your reputation at stake once again by disowning your only heir. In very poor style, yet again, you manage to show what a fool you are.

However, Harry was unable to read the rest of the letter, as it was snatched away by Draco, who moved it over to the side of the desk and replaced it with a blank piece of parchment. On it, he began to scribble – not in his former elegant and controlled script – a list.

New broom – Nimbus 3000
New school robes
New Potions cauldron
Telescope
Pensieve?

Here, Draco paused, twiddling his quill between his slender fingers. "Pansy says they're quite good," he mused. "But they're so expensive." Sighing, he righted his quill and crossed out the last item on his list with more force than was necessary.

Harry backed away silently, knowing what he was going to do now.

There was a knock on the door, and Harry jumped slightly. Draco cast a curious – and suspicious – look in his direction, but before he could do anything, the knock sounded again.

"Come in," Draco said, shoving his list under a pile of parchment as he did so.

The door opened and Blaise Zabini entered, already dressed in his pajamas.

"Yes?" Draco asked, casting an imperious eye over his housemate's dress.

"I just came in to say goodnight," Blaise said softly.

"Goodnight, then," Draco said.

There was an awkward silence, and Harry realised that this was the perfect opportunity to leave the room, but stayed where he was – what was going on between these two?

"That's – not all," Blaise said. "I – "

"Blaise, we've discussed this," Draco said, a soft hint to his usually sharp voice. "I don't like you like that."

But you said you were gay!" Blaise replied, desperate.

Shockingly, Draco laughed. "And because of my – gender preference, I ought to be in mad love with you, is that right?" he asked, amused.

"Well – it's not that –" Blaise said, trying to save face.

"Listen, Blaise, I'm not in the mood at the moment," Draco said, face hardening. "Can we just drop this?"

Blaise glared at him, his sudden change in character disconcerting to Harry. Blaise whirled around and stormed out of the room, and Harry quickly followed him when he saw that Draco was getting up to close the door.

The next evening, Harry was trying to surreptitiously sneak Wizarding catalogues up to his room without anybody – particularly Hermione – noticing. It was proving to be a difficult task.

Harry let out a huge, obviously-fake yawn.

"Well, I'm dead tired," he said, closing his musty old text book with a bang. "I'm off to bed."

"Have you been feeling okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, worry creasing her brow. "You've been very tired recently."

"Oh, it's nothing," Harry replied quickly. "It's just Quidditch practice – it's been really tiring recently, and I've been so unfit and all...I'm sure I'll be fine soon."

Hermione nodded her understanding, although she still looked concerned. "Will you go and see Madam Pomfrey for some Pepper-Up Potion if you're not feeling better soon?" she asked.

"Of course," Harry replied quickly, eager to get to his dorm. "G'night, everyone."

And with that, he ascended the stairs to the dormitory hastily, the Wizarding catalogues hidden between his library books.

Dumping the books on the end of his bed, Harry pulled out the catalogues and immediately saw the perfect Pensieve.

"I'm just going to send an owl to Hagrid," Harry said the next morning as he, Ron and Hermione made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. "I'll see you in fifteen, okay?"

Harry didn't waste any time waiting for a reply as he speedily made his way to the Owlery - although not to owl Hagrid, as he had told his two best friends.

Clutched in his hand was a order form for a two thousand Galleon Pensieve, to be delivered to one Draco Malfoy.

Seeing him enter, Hedwig flew over and perched on the nearest pillar, holding her leg out expectantly.

"Sorry, Hedwig," Harry said softly, looking around the Owlery to make sure that it was completely vacant. "I have to use a school owl for this, I'm sorry."

He didn't pay any attention to Hedwig's irritation as he went over to one of the school barn owls and tied the parchment to its leg, stroking its beak before watching it fly off and then rushing back to breakfast.

That Saturday, Draco Malfoy arrived at breakfast to see a large box on the table in front of where he usually sat. Although he was more than a little curious, he didn't hasten his pace or change his expression, trying to look as though he'd been expecting the parcel.

Instead of sitting down to eat, Draco swiped Pansy's coffee, picked up the parcel, tucked it under one arm and left the Great Hall.

Trying not to spill the coffee as he sped down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeons, he tried to think of what it could be in the box. He hadn't ordered anything recently, it wasn't his birthday, and it definitely wouldn't be a gift from his parents. And then, he turned to the more important question – what was in the box.

He hissed the password when he reached the common room, closed the door behind him and came face-to-face with Blaise Zabini. Draco groaned audibly.

"Yes, Blaise?" he asked, trying to be patient.

"What's that?" Blaise asked curiously, motiokning to the box trapped under his arm.

"None of your business," Draco snapped, wanting to get to his room so as to find out himself.

Blaise shrugged. "Where'd you get it from, then?" he tried again.

"That's also none of your business!" Draco replied. "Now, would you kindly stop harassing me and leave me to my own affairs? Thank you." He neatly side-stepped the other boy and was able to make it to his room in peace.

Closing the door vigourously behind him, Draco carefully placed his – Pansy's - coffee on the desk and sat on the bed, the box on his lap.

He looked it over carefully, trying to tell if there were any charms or spells on it. He couldn't sense anything, not that that meant there wasn't. Putting his ear tentatively to the cardboard, Draco listened for any suspicious sounds – what, exactly, he didn't know.

After his lengthy inspection, Draco decided that there – probably – wasn't anything suspicious about the package. He began to tear the sticky-tape off the edges, wondering again what on earth he would find inside.

Once he'd cleared away all the packaging, Draco's mouth literally dropped open.

It was a Pensieve. It was gray, but with silver flecks embedded throughout the stone. It had strange carvings around the outside and along the rim.

Draco heard someone – or someones – outside his room. Hurriedly, he displayed the Pensieve on his desk, thought better of it, put it back in its box and stowed it under the bed, lest they come in and see it. However, they just hurried past, and Draco heard one of them say distinctly, "But it's already five past nine!" Draco realised that he was five minutes late to Arithmancy and, after finishing off his coffee, rushed to class.

Hermione jabbed him in the ribs. "Pay attention!" she hissed. "This is going to be on our NEWTs, you know!"

Harry sat up straighter and tried to pay attention, but his mind soon drifted.

"Oh, gods, yes, Draco," Harry moaned, arching his back against the stone wall. "Oh, fuck, that...oh, Merlin."

Draco's blonde head bobbed up and down the length of Harry's cock, and the Gryffindor found it intriguingly arousing that the normally proud and dignified boy was on his knees in front of Harry Potter...

"Mr Potter!" Professor McGonagall snapped, smacking her wand on Harry's desk. Harry's eyes snapped open. "I would appreciate if you could manage to stay awake during my lessons! Five points from Gryffindor."

As she walked away, Hermione looked at Harry strangely. "Harry, what on earth were you doing?" she asked. "You got all flushed and...oh," she finished, her eyes going wide as she realised the possibilty. "Oh. Well. Not in class, please, Harry." Her own cheeks bright red, she turned back to her notes and started writing furiously.

Harry was mortified. Absolutely mortified. Bloody Draco Malfoy, he cursed under his breath.

For the next few weeks, unexpected gifts repeatedly popped up for Draco, which more often than not attracted the teasing from his housemates – Got a secret admirer, hey, Draco? – and leading to awkward questions from Pansy and Blaise. He couldn't explain why he was getting the things he was – rare books and Potions ingredients, new robes and the Pensieve especially – any more than they could, or who he was getting them from. Draco had made up his mind to do a little investigation of his own – and that involved lurking around the Owlery as often as he could spare the time to do so.

The next thing on the list to buy, Harry thought, was the Nimbus 3000. And he knew exactly where to get one of those.

Cutting out the order coupon from one of his many Quidditch magazines, Harry filled it in quickly, wanting to get it over and done with so that he didn't change his mind.

He put the form into and envelope and hurried down to the Owlery.

Just as he was about to tie the parchment onto one of the school owls' legs, though, he heard a sound behind him. Spinning around, Harry was confronted by the person he definitely wanted to see least – Draco Malfoy himself.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Draco asked smoothly.

"Er, er, nothing," Harry replied quickly, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

"If it's nothing, then why are you blushing?" Draco asked, leaning over to pluck the parchment out of Harry's hand, lingering longer than was probably necessary.

"Don't read that," Harry said. "Please don't?"

Draco ignored Harry's plaintive whining and opened the envelope, sliding out the order form and reading it, his mouth opening slightly once he'd finished.

"Oh my god," Draco said. "That's been you, hasn't it? All this time, sending me those things...that's you!"

"Er," Harry said. "No, actually, I just wanted a Nimbus 3000 for myself..."

"You already have one!" Draco cried in reply. "And the name on the form is Draco Malfoy – my name!"

"Er," Harry replied eloquently. "Well."

"Why have you been doing this, Potter?" Draco asked suspiciously.

Harry saw his opportunity, and, summoning up his famed Gryffindor courage, blurted out, "BecauseI'minlovewithyouandhavebeensincesixthyear."

Draco's mouth dropped fully open. After a few moments of incredibly awkward silence, he closed it again, his lips forming a smirk.

"Is that so, Potter," he said huskily, seeing the advantageous position this put him in. He mockingly put a finger up to his chin, as if to thin. "I suppose I could thank you, Potter."

"I...suppose?" Harry asked, bright red now.

Draco walked closer to Harry, a smirk on his face. "A proper thank you requires privacy."

"Privacy?" The Gryffindor squeaked.

Draco nodded and gave the envelope and parchment back to Harry. "Tomorrow night."

"But--What if I want to be thanked now?" Harry turned an even deeper shade of red. "I mean I've been buying you these gifts--"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Good things come to those who wait, Potter."

Harry sighed and called down for Hedwig. He attached the envelope to her leg and sent her through a window of the room.

He turned around to say something else to Draco but found the room empty. Harry sighed again and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

It was dark in the tower. Draco bit his lip as he waited outside the Owlery. He was somewhat nervous as he listened for sounds of anyone approaching, but Owlery wasn't a prefect patrolling area. He let out a sigh of relief as Harry came through a doorway stuffing a cloak into his pocket.

"Ah, Potter--"

"Look, I left Ron saying I was going to bed. Just thank me so I can go back to my bed."

Draco scowled slightly as he quickly crossed the distance between them. The Slytherin quickly dropped to his knees and Harry's eyes got wide.

He hesitated for a moment before moving Harry's robes out of the way. Slender fingers quickly undid the fastenings of the trousers.

"Uh, can't--"

"Shh, Potter. I'm trying to show my gratitude."

Draco quickly pulled down the fabric of Harry's boxers and smirked as his fingers encircled the half-hard flesh. This was no strange sensation to Draco as he began stroking the shaft with his thumb teasing the underside of the head. He could feel it becoming firmer. Harry on the other hand was reeling in new sensations.

It was almost too much for Harry to handle as Draco lowered his head toward Harry's cock and opened his mouth.

As Draco got the the head of the cock into his mouth he moved his tongue, flicking it over the skin. Harry gasped and looked down as Draco's eyes closed and he closed his mouth around the head.

Harry came with a loud cry, spilling come into Draco's mouth. Wrinkling his nose, Draco swallowed, mentally gagging at the taste.

Minutes later, Harry lay in post-orgasmic bliss, his knees having given out underneath him a few minutes ago.

"That...was...guh," Harry said.

"Have you never received a blowjob before, Potter?" Draco replied, slightly more coherently.

"Well, no," Harry said. Draco laughed.

"So...what does this make us?" Harry asked tentatively.

"What do you mean, what does this make us?" Draco replied, confused.

"Well...are we...boyfriends?" Harry asked, blushing.

Draco was about to blurt out, "NO!" when he realised that this could work out very nicely for him. Potter being his boyfriend meant that he would be financially secure for the next however-long.

"I suppose we could work something out," Draco replied.

Harry beamed.

finis