Can't rain all the time

Title: Marking Time
Author: elfflame
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Sometimes something is worth waiting for. But Draco’s never been good at waiting.
Warning: angst, epilogue kids
Word Count: 4625
A/N: This was the quick little fic idea that decided to turn into an epic. But I suppose that’s what I get for trying to cover the time between the end of the battle and the scene in the epilogue… The style's a bit unusual, because I wanted to try something different.  I hope it doesn't throw people off too much.  Basically, anything that isn't in italics is dialogue.  Lots of help with this, both readers and Betas, so huge thanks to wolfish_cat for encouraging me, and kabal42 and ceria for looking this over. Love you all. :D




As a boy, I never believed that emotions could change. Hate was hate, and love was love, and never the twain would meet. Even when father told me never to take things at face value, I never associated the idea with feelings.

It was only when Potter approached me after the final battle that I realized his truism might apply to them as well.

Your wand, Malfoy.

You're just...giving it to me? Just like that? You do realize it won't ever work properly for me again, right?

He sighed at me, then pushed it towards me again. Just take it, Malfoy. Or do you not want it any more?

I glared back. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Keeping my wand as proof you "conquered" me?

Good, god, Malfoy. For a second I thought maybe you'd learned a bit of humility in the past few years, given what's happened to you and your family. Apparently not?

And what the hell would you know about it, “Chosen One?”

Potter growled, then pushed me up against the wall. Fuck you, Malfoy. You think two years even begins to equate what you’ve been through with my suffering? You know what? Forget it. His rant at me done, he dropped his hand to move away, but I caught his wrist.

No. What? You think you cornered the market on suffering, Potter?

Get your hands off me, Malfoy, or I’ll show you real suffering.

Oooh, threats from the Chosen One. What’s next? Are you going to vanquish me, like you vanquished him? Oh, that’s right, you told him you already had. Wishful thinking?

What the fuck are you talking about, Malfoy?

I moved closer to Potter. Wouldn’t you like to know, hm?

I quickly found myself slammed against the wall once more. Either tell me what the fuck you’re on about, or lay off, Malfoy.

Oooh…touchy, Potter. Tell me, when was the last time that girlfriend of yours spread her legs for you?

I haven’t seen Ginny in nearly a year, Malfoy. Not that it’s any of your business.

I laughed coolly at that. Oh? Did you dump her? I know it can’t have been for being frig— Potter socked me in the jaw before I could finish. I put my hand to my cheek and glared at him. Is that all you know, even now? Muggle ways of solving things?

Maybe I just wanted you to shut up, Malfoy.

Well, there are better ways.

Oh? And what are those, Malfoy?

I smirked at him, then put my hands on his shoulders, pulling him close. Like this. Then I kissed him.

I was quick to take my wand and leave while he was still reeling. After all, mother and father were waiting for me, and it wouldn’t do to have father come looking for me and find me kissing Potter.

Once we had returned home, though, I found I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. I’d been relieved to get away cleanly, but with it, it seemed there had been a change within me I hadn’t expected. Oh, I still hated him. But…there was something else as well. And frankly, that terrified me.

Still, I managed to keep away from Potter for almost a year afterwards. It helped that school was finished. The Ministry had allowed all of us who’d been going through our seventh years to take special NEWTs classes and tests that summer, but I’d only needed to take a few study courses and my make-up tests, while he’d had to make up all the studying he’d lost when he’d been on the run.

So it wasn’t until I came to the Ministry for father’s formal release that I saw him again. He was the trainee Auror assigned to being in the room to make certain father didn’t leave until he was allowed. I avoided looking at him best as I could until father was escorted to an adjoining office to sign his release papers, then I turned to look at Potter.

Before even that could be managed, I found myself pressed against the wall again.

What the hell did you do to me, Malfoy?

Excuse me?

You heard me.

I couldn’t help laughing at that. I believe in the civilized world it’s called a kiss, Potter. And here I gave you credit for not being completely ignorant. Are you telling me you’ve never…?

His voice was strained, and he growled at me as he spoke. That’s not what I’m talking about, Malfoy. I’m talking about the mark.

That surprised me. Mark? What mark?

Like you don’t know.

I wouldn’t have asked otherwise, Potter. Are you referring to your scar, or…?

When Potter started to unbutton his shirt, I was alarmed, and quickly caught his hands, hissing at him, Woah! We’re in a public place here, Potter! Or hadn’t those myopic eyes of yours noticed?

Not even bothering to answer, he shook off my hands and pulled down the right shoulder of his shirt to show me a coiled Eastern-style dragon etched into his shoulder in miniature, about the size of a thumb-print.

I couldn’t help but smirk. If the kiss meant that much to you, Potter, you could have asked for more. I would have turned you down, of course, but…

He yanked up his shirt and continued to glower at me. I didn’t put it there, Malfoy! You did!

What on earth are you talking about, Potter?

It was there that night when I looked in the mirror. Go on. Deny that you did it.

It…was? I stared at him, nonplussed for a moment, before I remembered how I’d been holding his shoulders that day. My thumb had been right over that spot. Interesting. Think it would happen again?

He blinked at me. What?

I smirked at him, then cast a warding charm around both of us that would distract others who looked our way, so that we’d seem just a blur to them. Then I dropped to my knees and cupped him before he could back away, but otherwise didn’t answer as I opened his trousers and began to stroke him. What are you doing?

I smirked wider at that. Ginger never did this for you, apparently? Before he could answer, I ran my tongue over him, drawing a low groan from him, my left hand gripping at his hip as I used my right to guide him while I moved my lips over him, not stopping until I felt him approach climax, then pulled back and stroked him until he spilled over my hand. I then cast a quick cleaning spell on myself before shifting the hand that still held him in place, and couldn’t help grinning when I saw the same mark already appearing on his hip where my thumb had just rested. My theory confirmed, I stood and brushed myself off.

Well, as pleasant as this has been, I need to get going, Potter. Before someone appears and starts asking…uncomfortable questions? You know where to find me if you need me.

As I moved away, I heard him muttering. Right. Like that’ll happen.

We didn’t see each other again for another two years. I stopped waiting for him to appear at the Manor’s door after the first week. Obviously he either didn’t get what was really up, or didn’t care, but I found myself scouring through the books in what remained of our library for any explanation. Found it, too, though it took a long time for me to understand the full implication.

It seemed that there was something more between us, whether because of the fact that he had, as we had both mentioned, “conquered” me, or that it was something between us that had simply always been there. Either way, that connection had shown itself in the marks that had appeared on his skin after both moments. Our magic connecting positively for the first time, and writing itself on his skin. In this case, it seemed to be there to prove to him that there was a connection between our magic. Apparently the marks only appeared on the skin of those fighting the connection in the first place. Since I had initiated both instances, he had been the one marked. I couldn’t help but feel a certain smug superiority about that.

At least, I did until the announcement that Potter had become engaged to the Weaslette. Then, I gave up hoping he might come to his senses so we could truly talk for the first time in our lives. Instead, I asked for mother’s help in finding someone so that I could fulfill the family obligation of having an heir. Don’t get me wrong. I like men, but I’m not bad with women, either. They just aren’t my preferred bedmates. I knew I’d found the right girl when I told her that and she’d grinned at me, telling me she’d wondered how long I would wait before telling her. Our engagement announcement was in the newspaper the next week.

Mellisande, or, as I liked to call her, Mel, was sweet, and funny, and had lived all her life in France, attending Beauxbatons and finishing her schooling the year after I had. When I asked if she missed France, she informed me that she’d always wished for a slightly cooler clime, and that so long as we took frequent vacations to the continent, she would be more than content to live in England for the rest of her life.

We chose not to hold our engagement party at the Manor, as there were still a few repairs ongoing, though I was hoping it would all be fixed by the time we said our vows, so that we could hold the reception there, at the very least. Instead, the gathering was held in the Ministry’s formal ballroom.

It was grand enough for the event, but unfortunately, several “dignitaries” were required to attend, Potter and his bride-to-be being at the top of the list. I urged Mel to stay away from them, but it wasn’t long before Potter himself approached us. That wasn’t the most alarming thing, unfortunately. What was? The fact that both women seemed immediately to take to one another, and soon moved to a small table together so they could gossip, leaving the two of us alone.

Scariest thing I’ve ever seen…

I never thought I’d find myself agreeing with Potter, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that I did. I don’t know which is worse. That they like each other, despite my warning Mel against her, or that they’re likely over there plotting against us.

It’s not like they’d try to hurt us, Malfoy…

Do you even know that fiancée of yours, Potter? She had the whole school running scared for a few months. Until the Headmaster put her on a leash, anyway…

Ginny’s sweet, Malfoy. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Right. That’s why she’s so proficient in that little hex she loves so much?

Potter didn’t even try to hold back his laughter, obviously recalling, as I was, the time she used it on me. Sorry…

I glared at him as I waited for his chuckles to subside. It wasn’t funny.

It was at the time, Malfoy. You were holding us prisoner!

No, I was doing my duty as a member of the Headmistress’s Inquisitorial Squad. You’d have done the same if our roles had been reversed.

I would never have done that to anyone, Malfoy. Not even you.

Right. Because you liked me so much, right?

He glared at me. No, Malfoy. Because I prefer to do the right thing to the easy one.

Aaah. That explains quite a bit, Potter. Tell me, how far along is she?

He flushed with anger. It isn’t like that!

Oh? Then what is it like? Can’t run away from me fast enough?

I’m not running away, Malfoy.

Are you certain, Potter? Because it looks like you are from where I’m standing…

He grabbed my arm, but before he could start growling at me, I hissed, Not here, then dragged him to a deserted alcove in the far corner of the room.

I didn’t want…

I cupped his groin before he could finish, and felt him press against my palm. Really? You certainly seem interested…

Damn it, Malfoy! I’m getting married!

I laughed at that. So am I, Potter. What has that to do with anything?

He didn’t answer, simply let his head fall back against the wall as I began to stroke him gently, his token resistance over for the moment. I worked his trousers open, then my own, and pressed against him. The shock of flesh on flesh made us both groan softly.

Then, to my even greater shock, his hand curled around me—around both of us. My fingers curled around his, guiding him as he sped up, and I pressed my face against his shoulder to muffle any further sounds I might make. It wasn’t long before he came, but his hand barely even slowed until he felt me come as well, then I released his hand, and we pulled apart to clean ourselves up.

We left the alcove separately, me heading towards a small group of my friends, him for the bar where I saw him knock back a few drinks in succession before I turned my attention to whatever it was my friends were discussing. We made certain to avoid each other for the rest of the evening.

I saw him a few times in the next few years. But each time, it was only in passing. We never seemed to find ourselves alone together. To be honest, I was relieved that we did not. The emotions that had been racing through me ever since had been difficult to handle, and I was scared what would happen if the tables turned and Harry—for I could no longer think of him as “Potter,” no matter how I tried—began to press me for more instead. I wasn’t sure what I would do.

It wasn’t as though I didn’t have male lovers. Or that Mel would be hurt if I did. It was just that none of the lovers I’d taken since we’d been married—or ever, really—had meant anything to me. Not the way the few fleeting touches from Harry had. And there was no way I could let myself be that vulnerable to him. No matter what my heart thought it wanted.

It wasn’t until the dedication of the war memorial five years later that we met again, face to face. His wife was pregnant at the time, and Mel oohed and ahhed over her belly, and the two were so wrapped up in their talk of baby booties and christening clothes that they didn’t see me slip away to Severus’s gravestone. Harry did, though. I should have known he would follow, but I had hoped that if I let it go, so would he. My hopes were short-lived.

I’m glad they’ve agreed to recognize him.

Mmm. Your doing?

Yeah.

Thank you.

We were silent for a few moments, then I saw him turn to look at me. Draco…

We’ve nothing to talk about, Potter.

What about this? He held up his hand, and on the back, just below the web between his forefinger and thumb, was another mark.

I huffed. What about it?

You didn’t seem to want to ignore them before. Has something changed?

I’m married, Potter.

I seem to recall your answer to my similar statement went something like, “so am I.” He pulled me behind the monument, then pressed me against it. So, what’s really changed, Draco?

Let go of me.

No. What, the game’s no longer fun now that you’re not the one in control?

I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my wrists. It’s my turn now, Draco. Just…relax and enjoy it.

I panicked. Not because he was forcing me, but because I knew I would enjoy it just as he said, and that because of it, another piece of me would slip away beyond my control. No. Please…

He didn’t respond, just dropped to his knees and began to undo my trousers. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the stone, hoping that nothing of Severus was anywhere near this stone to see me so undone by Harry. Then there were lips around me, and I had to bite back a loud groan that seemed to come deep inside me. It didn’t take long before my climax came, then Harry tucked me away and stood once more. A phoenix…

I blinked at him, still off-kilter and reeling from orgasm. What?

Your mark. It’s a phoenix.

The panic rose in me once more. Up till now, all the marks had appeared on Harry, but if Harry was right… Mark? I looked down at the skin where Harry’s hand had been resting, still revealed because my trousers were undone. Sure enough, the skin there was beginning to show a small mark of a furled but quite obvious phoenix. The sight sent a shudder through me, and I hurried to hide it from both of us. I could handle the idea that Harry might be in denial about this, but if it was happening in reverse… Just…leave me alone.

I was scared to look back as I hurried away.

Over the next few months, Mel seemed to be the only person who could keep me from coming out of my skin. I stopped attending any events where I was certain Harry would show. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle a second time. I used glamours to hide the mark both from myself and from Mel, though she had seen it that first night, and occasionally, I could see her looking at me quizzically, as though she wanted to ask, but she did not.

I relaxed a bit after she got pregnant. We both spent a great deal of time together, dreaming for our son. We also argued quite a bit over a name for him, but in the end, the Black family’s habit of naming for the stars won out, and we chose Scorpius. I assured Mel that even though it seemed a bit much, the boy would grow into his name, as I had with mine.

I was in the room when he was born at St Mungos. Father had wanted him born at home, but Mel’s mother had died in childbirth with her younger brother, and there was no way I was going to let that happen to my wife, so the hospital had seemed the safest bet.

When I held my son in my arms for the first time, everything else seemed to disappear. I refused to let the assistant healer take him to be weighed and washed, insisting on taking him to the pediatric healer myself. Unfortunately, upon stepping outside Mel’s room, I came face to face with Harry once more. It took everything within me not to react harshly at the sight of him.

Draco.

Potter. I shifted Scorpius in my arms, focusing on him rather than Potter.

Congratulations.

Thank you. So, you just came to offer your congratulations? If so, I have to get him to the healer…

No. I only heard after we’d arrived. Ginny’s here for a checkup. She’s pregnant again. Due in about six weeks.

I couldn’t help but scowl at that. That my son and his would attend Hogwarts together. Lovely. Another generation in the same year.

Maybe even in the same House.

I snorted at that. Unlikely.

You never know, Draco…

I glowered at the suggestion, then moved away from him, but he followed me all the way to the healer, and when I passed over my son, I was scared to leave Scorpius’s side. Not because I thought the healer would hurt him in any way, but because I was scared what Harry would do when we were alone.

Still, I left and made my way back towards Mel’s room, Harry at my side, silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. You know, when you kissed me that day…

I stopped and turned to him. I don’t want to talk about it, Potter.

Someday both of us will be up to it.

Don’t count on it. Go back to your wife and leave me alone.

Not yet. He moved closer to me, pushing me into an empty room, and I backed away, pulling out my wand.

No. Not again. I knew I couldn’t let him. It was all I could do to hold on as it was.

And yet, when he pressed me against the wall, I heard myself moan, and I couldn’t help pressing back against him. I just…Please…Draco…Don’t push me away.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. Harry…please…

He lifted my chin. What made it okay before, and not now, Draco? Was it just that I was fighting you?

It took me a moment to find him something resembling an answer. I was free. We were free. Why didn’t you…? I had to look away before I could finish my question. You knew where to find me. Why didn’t you try?

I’m trying now, Draco.

You’re not! You’ve…cornered me. I closed my eyes again, hating how emotional I was getting.

I can’t stay away from you. He pressed against me, and we both gasped, my hands clutching at his arms.

But you could have written. Come to the Manor. I would have met you.

I thought it was a game to you.

I met his eyes again. You were never a game, Harry.

My head fell back against the wall as he ground against me in response. His lips fastened on my neck, and I had a fleeting thought that it might be a bad thing if he managed to leave one of those marks there. I didn’t stop him, though. My hands tightened on his arms, and I moved against him until we both climaxed, then sagged back against the wall, the only thing keeping me from sagging to the floor was his hand in the small of my back.

I wanted to scream at him, to tear into him for doing this to me. I wanted to curl around him and never let go again. I did neither. Instead, I extracted myself carefully from his grasp, then cast a cleaning spell on each of us before turning away. Go back to your wife, Potter, I’m sure she’s waiting for you.

Then I left the room and went back to Mel’s room. I never even told her I’d seen him that day. I think she knew, though. Things were different between us after that. In ways that had nothing to do with Scorpius. Oh, we still cared about each other; still talked…but when we returned home, she no longer seemed interested in spending any time in my bed. Nor did I feel the need to push her into it. Our relationship faded to a simpler sort of friendship than it had before.

We took our son home shortly after his birth, and every time I ventured out into the world, I expected to see Harry each time I turned around. But he never appeared. Shortly after his second son was born, there was a gossip column in the Prophet that he and Ginny were possibly getting a divorce, but when nothing further was mentioned, I assumed it was all talk. Especially when it was announced to the world that Ginny was pregnant with their third child. I stopped looking for him then.

Scorpius took up a great deal of my time. He was still young, and pure delight to spend time with. I spent hours just watching him play with his toys, talking to him about everything I could think of. I wanted my son prepared for that world in ways I had not been. Oh, father had prepared me. Just not for feelings, or for being vulnerable. That was something I couldn’t allow to hurt my son. Not if I could help it.

And then, about a year after Ginny had given birth to their daughter, I was in my study working on some papers when someone knocked on my door.

Come in. I didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was father or Mel, and that they would let me know what it was they needed without prompting from me. When my guest remained silent, that was when I looked up to see him standing there. Harry?

He nodded slowly. Sorry to interrupt.

Is something wrong? Perhaps he was here because something had happened to one of my family? Is everyone all right?

Everyone is fine, Draco. Mel said you were up here. I just…wanted to see you.

It took me a long time to comprehend what Harry was saying. Why?

Because I can’t keep fooling myself that this—you—means nothing to me any more. I haven’t been able to for years.

I looked down at my desk, trying to convince myself that nothing had changed, even though I knew those words meant everything. Then why? Why wait until now?

Because it’s only too late when someone dies, Draco. Ginny and I are getting divorced.

In spite of the rumors, the words shocked me. What about your daughter?

Ginny was sure she could convince me if we only had one more. Not sure what she thought it would prove. I’ve promised to stay in the house until Lily’s off to Hogwarts, but then…

I stood and moved away from my desk. From him. Malfoys don’t divorce.

I know. I don’t care. I wasted that chance. But I can’t waste any more time. Even if it means I have to share you with her.

The words shocked me, and I turned to look at him. You would do that?

He moved to stand in front of me and cupped my chin. If it meant we could be together? Yes. Before I could respond, he leaned in and kissed me. We hadn’t kissed since that day in the halls, and, now, feeling his lips against mine, his thumb stroking the side of my neck, I wondered how I had managed to pull away then.

Harry…

Shh…just tell me I’m not too late.

I met his eyes, but it was a long time before I spoke. You’re not too late.

We made love that night. Oh, I would never have admitted to the word, but that was what it was. And after, as we lay, tangled in the sheets, I noticed something. Your mark…

What about it?

It…moved. They’ve all moved. Changed.

He smiled at me. So have yours. Didn’t you know they would?

I looked down at my chest to see the mark that had settled over my heart, much larger than the three small ones that Harry’d made on my hip, back and neck, then shook my head. I only read that they meant we were connected.

You know Hermione. Has to know everything about something. It shows that we’ve accepted the connection. His fingers traced the lines of the bird’s wings. That it’s been made permanent. He looked a bit cautious as he said the last, obviously worried I’d jump from the bed and order him to leave.

Really? You’re mine? Now it was my turn to reach out and trace the lines of his mark, a smile growing on my face. Ginny might have had him for a while, but he’d been mine all along. And now the world could see the proof of it if we so chose.

Harry flushed. Something like that.

I couldn’t help but smile. Good.