Walking On Glass ∆ Drarry AU

seven ∆ without a trace

Sir Harry hadn't planned on drinking -- it was unprofessional. However, once the pie was in the oven, he'd let some comment slip about how it took way too long to bake, and thus was lured into a drinking competition with none other than Prince Draco himself. Unfortunately, he'd lost.

The knight couldn't tell whether the prince's presence was genuinely enjoyable for once or if it was just the alcohol. It was probably the latter, but in all honesty, he didn't really care.

"So," the prince started. "I was walking through the forest one day -- mind you, this was ages ago -- and I quickly find myself stupidly growing lost. It's not like I was afraid, but once I heard that branch snap I..." he trailed off. "Well, I screamed the most high-pitched scream, and booked it in the opposite direction."

Sir Harry couldn't help but let out a playful laugh at the sight of the scene playing out in his mind. However, he stopped with the light punch to his shoulder.

"It's not funny! The townsfolk thought I had died!"

"What'd you think it was?"

Prince Draco raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"The thing...in the forest."

"I dunno, probably an owl."

"I like owls," said Sir Harry, with no hesitation.

"Oh?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Yeah, 'specially those snowy ones." The knight smiled. "They're not common 'round here, but I saw one once. When I was up in the northern hills during my training." He looked at the floor. "Goodness, that was so long ago..."

There was silence. "You know, Pansy says time is stupid, that you either have too much or too little." The prince shook his head. "I mean, she's also said she no longer wishes to have an intimate relationship with me. Guess she's just been keeping up an act since then."

"When'd she say that?" Sir Harry was genuinely confused. They had seemed to be doing just fine yesterday.

"Yesterday afternoon, after you'd left. She said she had her eyes set on this woman, who apparently she'd met on the other side of the forest. I don't even know when she made the journey..." He scoffed. "I mean, you seemed to have barely made it through yourself, so how the hell did she?"

The knight didn't know what to say, so he just stood there awkwardly staring at the floor.

Prince Draco scoffed. "Speaking of the forest, how's your wound?"

"Uh..." He put a hand to his arm. "Seems to be healing up just fine."

"Could I see it?"

"I guess?" Sir Harry lifted the light brown tunic he'd thrown on, and slowly pulled it off. Standing in front of the prince bare-chested, he couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious.

Before he could do anything else, Prince Draco reached out a hand. "May I?"

"Go ahead..." he replied, hesitancy in his voice.

Carefully, the prince unwound the bandages covering the knight's injured arm. "What's this stuff?" he asked, looking at the crimson substance. "Looks like blood."

"It's not blood; it's an ointment Doctor Snape said I should use."

Prince Draco rolled his eyes. "I didn't say it was blood, I said it looked like blood."

"Oh." Sir Harry didn't know what to say.

The prince looked the knight in the eyes. "Does it hurt?"

Not wishing to make eye-contact this close, the knight glanced away. He felt his face heat up. "No, uh...not really." He couldn't understand why he was feeling so nervous. Maybe it was the alcohol. 

"Good," he murmured, before rewrapping Sir Harry's bandages. The prince then grabbed hold on the other man's hand, and once again looked him in the eyes. "So..."

There was silence as the two stared at each other, until Sir Harry repeated, "So?"

Prince Draco leaned near Sir Harry's ear. "What're we to do now?" he whispered.

"What--" The knight closed his eyes, and swallowed. He was trying his best to stay composed, but the mixture of the alcohol and Prince Draco's hot breath against his neck were making it quite difficult. "What do you have in mind?" 

"This," was all the prince said, before bringing his lips to Sir Harry's.

Reflexively, the knight tried backing away, but Prince Draco pushed forward. He hit a wall, and decided he might as well give in. It's not like a part of him didn't not want this.

But maybe this was all a dream, and he'd wake up to find that none of it had actually happened. Still, he didn't think he'd like that any more than if this was all real, everything.

Sir Harry turned his head away, and bit his lip. He was certain that his cheeks were flushed. "We shouldn't be doing this... We're both drunk, and-- and it's unprofessional."

Suddenly, Prince Draco stepped away. "Okay," he said, as he turned and strode over to the oven. "I think the pie's done."

With a bewildered expression on his face, the knight shook his head. Perhaps it would be best to simply forget this day -- all of it -- had ever happened.

Seemed as though Prince Draco already had.

Maybe Pansy was right -- time is stupid. 

And she was right to end whatever relationship she had with the prince -- who was now reaching into the oven for the pie.

Burn, Sir Harry viciously thought, as he pulled his shirt back over his head, and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, trying his best to remember what life was like before the blasted rumors -- before he was sent away to this wretched kingdom.

The knight didn't even notice when Prince Draco caught his hand on the edge of the hot stone, a red welt quickly forming as he gritted his teeth...