Kira O'Hara - Two's Company, Three's a Crowd (Part 4/4)

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July 18th, 2011

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12:35 am - Two's Company, Three's a Crowd (Part 4/4)
Title: Two’s Company, Three’s a Crowd
Author: Kira O’Hara ([info]kiraohara)
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Draco/OMC, Harry/Draco/OMC
Word Count: 26,501
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Threesome, slash, swearing, minor scar!kink, mature sexual content.
Summary: It has been four years since the War, and Draco and Hans have been together for a little over a year now. Out of the blue, Hans suggests a threesome with a famous Muggle that he rather admires. Draco reluctantly agrees. Little did he know that it was simply the strings of fate falling into place.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Part Three

Draco Malfoy was nervous.

He didn’t show it, naturally, but he was still nervous. He’d managed to get backstage just fine – he had no problem buying the special backstage pass. He had figured it would be hard to get access to Harry himself, but then he’d stumbled across one of his bandmates. The man’s jaw had dropped and he’d taken a few moments to blink. Draco wasn’t entirely unused to being stared at, but it still made him wonder if anyone taught their children manners anymore these days. He chided himself mentally when he recalled that, as one of Harry’s bandmates, it was likely that he hadn’t had anyone there to teach him such things.

Draco raised an elegant eyebrow when the man began laughing. His eyes were full of mirth and mischief when he pointed off down a hallway. “Harry’s that way,” he said. “Through the door with the odd-looking creature on it.” He’d given a quick salute and then trotted off in the other direction, laughing again.

It had unnerved Draco at first, but he vaguely remembered Potter promising to show his mates a picture. He idly wondered where Potter had managed to procure a picture of him. …And if it was a good picture.

Well, it was good enough to be recognizable, at least.

He must have paused outside the door with what looked like a cartoonish chimaera pasted on it for a good ten minutes, chewing through his lip. Then he realized he was doing it and scolded himself for the bad habit – his mother would have been furious. Mustering his courage, he opened the door and stepped in, hearing a chime as he did so.

What he encountered inside almost made him step right back out.

There was Potter – Harry, his mind taunted him. Sitting across the couch from him was Draco’s cousin’s child (and the werew- Lupin’s, he recalled), whom he had only seen a handful of times when his mother and Andromeda had decided they were on speaking terms. …And his hair was neon blue and green. Draco felt a frown starting, but kept it carefully in check. He was glad he did when the child – Teddy, he remembered – looked at him quizzically. After a moment, he recalled that his cousin had been a Metamorphmagus and had a fondness for pink and purple locks; the boy must have inherited her gift. Draco smiled gently at him, and the boy smiled back before returning his rapt attention to Harry.

But it wasn’t the child that had frightened him (though he figured it might be a bit harder to discuss the other night with him present). It was Harry. Sitting there, looking for all the world like a man in love. And his voice…bright Merlin, his voice. It was even more gorgeous than he’d ever heard it before.

Draco closed the door softly behind himself to make sure he couldn’t run away. He’d scraped together his courage thus far, but he wasn’t one to tempt the Fates.

The song came to a close, and a sad little smile graced Harry’s still distant features. Teddy grinned triumphantly as Harry fumbled for his glasses, and it made Draco curious as to why.

Harry slid the frames back on his nose and blinked a few times to get used to being able to see again. He didn’t see any of the others in his peripheral vision and Teddy hadn’t moved from his spot (though he looked awfully smug, the brat). Either someone had only peeked his or her head in, or he or she was still standing by the door. From Teddy’s flickering gaze, Harry guessed it was the latter. He turned around curiously. His eyes widened and he inhaled sharply when he saw Draco standing there.

He didn’t trust himself to stand just yet. “Dr- er, I mean, Malfoy? Um, uh, wh-what are you doing here?” He looked almost lost, or like he was trying to not to hope at all, which caused something to constrict around Draco’s heart. Potter had always been rather terrible at concealing his emotions, but Draco was glad for it and let a small smile grace his features.

“Hello, Potter,” he responded. But now he was nervous again. He hadn’t really gotten around to planning how things would go from this point. Not like anything ever went according to plan around Potter anyway, but it would have been nice to have had a little structure to cling to. And Teddy was there now too, so he couldn’t just blurt out what he needed to say and snog the other man senseless. He sighed and was only just barely able to divert the hand heading to rake through his hair to rub the back of his neck instead. He swore inwardly at how much more of a nervous gesture it probably looked like, and at the fact that Potter seemed to bring out his bad habits more often.

Teddy’s eyes flicked between them with curiosity. Harry looked puzzled, but managed to slowly raise an eyebrow, which made Draco realize he hadn’t answered Harry’s question. …Not that he was ready to answer it just yet. At least, not directly.

“Perhaps you noticed, but Hans has a bit of a thing for Muggle culture.” Harry shifted awkwardly, his eyes flicking between Draco and the door as if waiting for Hans to step through it. “Including that blasted television.” Harry looked more uneasy, but was giving Draco his undivided attention now. “And, of course, your band.” He looked like he was starting to get exasperated, sighing quickly and leveling a stare at Draco that said he’d like him to get to the point already. Draco smirked for a second before indulging him. “So, it would stand to reason that he might have, say, been watching a certain interview – even as tired as he was.” Draco grinned at him, not leaving much room for Harry to mistake what he was referring to.

True to form, Harry blushed a bit and looked down at the floor. “Oh,” he said. “You, uh, saw that then, did you?” He looked incredibly nervous now and was furiously worrying at his lower lip.

It was all Draco could do to keep himself from marching closer and taking over that action. He knew he used to have better impulse control at one point, and he wasn’t quite sure when it had deigned to go out the window. Probably when Potter started being so damn irresistible. …Perhaps when I learned there might be a chance. He sauntered forward to stand only a foot and a half away from Harry before he answered. “Yes, I did,” he said quietly.

Harry looked on the edge of panic, his teeth clamped down on his lip so hard that Draco wondered if he would draw blood. His eyes flicked rapidly between Draco and Teddy. Draco was a bit surprised at himself when he didn’t mind that Harry’s attention was split between him and the child. He figured that it was the knowledge of how much Harry cared for the little boy, if his statements during the interview were anything to go by. Finally, Harry forced himself to take a deep breath to bolster himself. “And…you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“…Hans?” he asked quietly, his eyes flicking to the door again.

Draco raised a teasing eyebrow. “Did you want him here too?”

Harry shot a glare at him. “No, you jacka-” He quickly snapped his mouth shut and sent a terrified look in the direction of a snickering Teddy. “I didn’t actually say it, so no telling Andromeda on me.”

Teddy tapped his chin thoughtfully. “…If I get ice cream?”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “Yes. Yes, okay, sure,” you manipulative little brat. “After the show?”

Teddy nodded and smirked up at him, and Draco was hard pressed to stifle a guffaw. There was a small swell of pride that Teddy apparently had enough Black blood to be a little schemer at…four, was it?

After the near-disaster was averted, Harry sighed and turned back to Draco, gulping. He scowled when he noticed that Draco was trying very hard not to laugh. “Oh, sod off. I just don’t feel like getting another lecture on swearing. Merlin, but that woman can make you feel like less than a dust mote when she lectures,” he grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. Draco wondered with a silent chuckle how many times Harry had gotten raked over the coals by his aunt.

“Well, she is a Black by birth. It is only fitting she would make you feel inferior.”

Harry shot him another glare, but it didn’t hold as much rancor as it once would have. “Whatever. As I was attempting to say, no, I had no wish to see him here. Not that he’s such a bad sort or anything, but- just- Draco, why are you here?” He sounded more than a bit desperate, and one hand had come up to yank torturously at his hair. “I-if it’s to tell me to sod off and give up then please just- just say it, okay? I…please just don’t rub it in.” He sounded miserable as he trailed off.

Draco wanted to smack himself – or possibly Harry, but with his luck he’d take it the wrong way. It seemed that the darling little self-conscious Gryffindor needed to be reassured. Then again, he had called him Draco instead of Malfoy this time, so that could possibly be a good sign. “That’s not why I’m here, Harry.”


Draco sighed softly. “Hans and I were friends before we ever became l-” he chanced a glance at the intently curious little boy and figured he might want to reevaluate his wording, “more than friends. We both knew that what we felt wasn’t forever, wasn’t real love. We were content where we were for the moment being, but were both aware it wasn’t the end-all-be-all.”

“…You broke up?”

“Yes.” Trust Potter to sum that up in a few simple words.

“I…um, I’m sor- er, no, I mean, I’m not exactly, but I apologize.” He shifted a bit, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Don’t be. He was the one who broke it off. Apparently he realized something a long time ago that it took an interesting evening, a television interview, and him beating me over the head with the information to make me understand. He knew as soon as I told him what your real last name was.”

Harry looked at him skeptically. “My last name.”

“Worry not, Potter, he’s not the type to go to the press with it.” He noticed Harry relax just slightly. “He has a great deal more discretion than that. He is not such a bad sort, as you said.” Draco smiled. “And we’re still friends and care about each other as such, much like before we were together.” He saw Harry squirming slightly and chewing his lip, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t want to interrupt. “What?”

Harry flicked his eyes to Draco sheepishly. “But…okay, so, you and Hans are…just friends now. …And you’re here. …Why? What…what was it that he realized that you didn’t?”

Draco smirked. “Ah, ah, ah, Potter. I think I’ve answered enough questions for just this moment. Now it’s your turn. I want to know what you meant when you said it ‘explained a few things’ when you saw me.”

Unexpectedly, Harry blushed and started fidgeting. “First off,” he grumbled, “you haven’t really answered any questions. I’ve dragged a few convoluted statements out of you that I had to piece together to figure out anything.” Draco grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes. “I’m still confused as Hell. But…okay, fine. Just…promise you won’t laugh?” Draco inclined his head, so Harry continued. “Um, well…when Hans was talking to me at the club, he described you. I didn’t manage to catch your name, but he told me so many other things about you. Snarky, gorgeous, blond, intelligent, cutting wit. It just...well, it sounded so much like you. I mean, the actual you. I… Well, most of the people I’ve been, uh, more than friends with I dated for their own personalities. But…well, whenever it was one of those ‘just once’ times? It was…me indulging myself. Not that way! Just…they all…well, they all either looked…like you. Or talked like you. Or carried themselves like you did. I…am sure I sound incredibly creepy right now, which is why I didn’t want to explain, just-”

“So you came with Hans that night simply for the chance to…be with someone like me?” Harry shook his head just slightly, refusing to meet Draco’s eyes. “To…fantasize that it was me?” Harry nodded minutely, his face somehow managing to become redder. “And it turned out to actually be me.” A choked off ‘yes’ was his response. “…And was it what you expected?”

Somehow, Harry managed to reply evenly. “No.” Draco felt his own nervousness niggling at him again. He had wondered if Harry had wanted him, but then discovered that it wasn’t really what he wanted. “It was so much better.” Draco’s breath caught. Harry bit his lip hard and winced, still looking at the floor, expecting to get made fun of.

Draco sensed he needed to tread carefully no so as to not allow any room for Harry to believe whatever ridiculous self-doubt he was harboring. “It…was, wasn’t it?” That made Harry glance up at him, and Draco smiled softly. “And…you think I’ll find you creepy for fantasizing about me? Why would I; I could hardly blame you for doing so,” he said in a haughty manner. He grinned as he observed Harry fight hard against the eyeroll that threatened. “But, to answer your question… Apparently, I talked about you quite often. Whenever I would tell Hans stories about my past and childhood, the memories always had you. You might be a part of the story, or perhaps I’d reference you somewhere, or mention what you would have thought about it or done instead. Whenever I talked about something that irked me…or made me happy…somehow I’d have a story about you connected to it.

“Even…” It was Draco’s turn to shift uncomfortably. It had taken Hans awhile to get Draco to accept this part, even though he’d known it to be truth. “Hans is a very upright sort of man. He can be cunning when he wants or needs to be, but usually prefers straightforwardness. His curls? He spends forever making them manageable, and I always preferred them mussed. And…I was often chiding myself when I’d start thinking that his eyes weren’t the shade they should be. I knew that I’d seen eyes…both bright and dark, always vivid, flashing one moment and deepening to the point you think you’re drowning the next. I…tried not to think about it, but it was always there.

“I always wondered where you’d gone to. Sometimes I’d get embarrassed because Hans would see me staring off into space and ask what I was thinking about and...well, it was you. Where you'd gone. What you were doing. While I’d scoff at them out loud, I would always read every detail of any article that mentioned you. Your friends would always say you were fine when they were asked, and they always sucked at lying, so I knew you were, but…” Draco unconsciously gave back in to the urge to bite his lip.

“I…have always been incredibly bad at analyzing myself. I suppose I’m too scared of what my own mind holds. Or that I might figure out that something about me is unsatisfactory. But…Hans knew. He knew that the day Harry Potter ever walked back into my life would be the day he would step down.” He let out a small, weak laugh. “Hell, if he wasn’t so honest and unselfish, I would have spent so much longer trying to convince myself that I was still content with him. He was the one who finally made me realize what it was that I wanted, though.”

Harry’s voice was extremely quiet when he spoke. “…Which is?”

“I think even you can figure that one out, Potter,” Draco teased back just as quietly.

And then Harry was off the couch, standing in front of him. They stood there, barely a foot apart, simply staring for a moment. Both sets of eyes quickly darted over to glance at Teddy, who had gotten bored with all the talking and had started playing with some toys several feet away. When Draco’s grey eyes slowly came back to rest on Harry, they were met with a fierce, burning green. It was the kind of look he had been wanting to be the object of. From the eyes he’d craved so much. From the person he’d craved so much.

“This is mad, you know.” It was Harry who spoke, almost conversationally but with a hint of a tremble. “We don’t really know each other – not really. We could be wrong. You could be giving up everything you had for nothing. It might not work. I want it – so, so much. But-”



“Shut up.”

“Okay.” And then Harry’s lips were on his, and it was bliss. There was no shyness, only exultation. And a few snickers as they figured out where to place their hands and arms now that they weren’t attempting to balance themselves or grope each other. When they finally did break away, it was with a breathless chuckle. They stood there for a moment in each other's embrace, simply smiling at one another.

“It’s still mad, you know,” Harry stated again, though happier this time.

“Harry, when has anything either of us has ever done been sane?”

“Very true. Wouldn’t want to break with tradition and all.”

“And you know how much I so love tradition.”

Harry snorted. Then he kissed him again. And Draco couldn’t have come up with a better birthday present for himself if he’d tried.


When Harry went on stage that night, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It only grew wider when he’d look to his right and see Draco standing there with Teddy, talking quietly – or as quietly as was possible backstage at a rock concert – and smiling at him when he’d catch their eyes. They had gotten along marvelously after Draco had mentioned that Andromeda was his aunt. And, of course, after Teddy had sung the obligatory children’s song about ‘Harry and Draco sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’

When he turned away and toward the crowd, it wasn’t his fans that he was seeing. Instead, in his mind’s eye, he was playing out a scene depicting a bright and early morning pillowfight. He didn’t push it away now, instead letting it fuel him. The knowledge that it seemed more and more possible grew every time he glanced to his right, and he let it buoy him through the performance.

Some would say it was the best he’d ever given.


(Augh, you have no idea how much I keep wanting to write simple ‘a day in the lives’ sort of drabbles with this storyline now, hehe. Hope you enjoyed this monster! :D)

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