FIC: Harry's Pockets (Part Three)
See previous entries for header. Now completed.



Part Three

Harry awoke to the sound of pounding at his door. Sitting up suddenly, he was filled with an eerie and disturbing sense of déjà vu. Looking through the peephole, though, he remembered his missed appointment. "Oh, shit!"

"Good. You're alive," Severus said, deadpan, when Harry swung open the door.

"Where's Teddy?" Harry asked, as Severus followed him into the sitting room.

"I took him home as soon as we saw the shop, then came directly here. I wanted him out of the way until I found you…or what was left of you," he said dryly. "So, tell me everything."

Harry told him all of it, from start to finish, leaving out one particular detail.

"The bloody development bastards," Severus said darkly at the end of it, clearly enraged. "Well, it's a good thing you weren't sleeping in the shop. Who knows what might've happened? Not that I doubt your ability to protect yourself," he added, watching Harry's face. "It appears your instincts were correct, however. You were being followed."

Harry relished what he was about to say. "Yeah, I was, but not by those lunatics." He paused when Severus raised an eyebrow, then delivered his shocking discovery. "It was Draco Malfoy," he said intently, gratified when Severus' mouth dropped slightly open.

"Draco?" he repeated. "Why would Draco be following you?" he asked, perplexed, setting his tea to the side in concern.

"Because…he's the clown, Severus."

"The clown?"

"My clown. Pockets." When Severus still looked at him as if he were speaking another language, Harry told him patiently, "The one who's been working in the shop for the past two months."

"Ah. That clown," Severus said slowly. "How odd," he said with a shrug, then picked up his cup again.

Harry eyed him suspiciously. "You don't seem surprised…that he's a clown. Why is that?"

"I knew about his…clowning. Have known for years," Severus told him blandly.

"You knew? You never said a word!" Harry protested.

Severus gave him a look of disgust. "Why would I? I had no idea he was your particular clown, of course, but I'd never divulge details of his life to you, just as I'd never let on to him about yours."

Harry had to reluctantly agree that this made a sort of sense, but still… "Well, he had to come clean after the fire. A right shock, that was," he complained. The thought suddenly occurred to him. "You didn't put him up to following me, then?"

"Certainly not. If you'll recall, I offered an Auror, not that it would've helped, seeing what they did."

Harry told him how Luna and Draco had presented a united front, and convinced him to at least keep his commitments of the summer. He ended by casually mentioning that Draco had been there the night before, that he'd heard the story of why Draco had become a clown, and then awkwardly admitted that the air between them seemed to have been cleared, for the most part.

"I'm a bit surprised," Harry admitted. "He's changed, Severus."

"I know, but he's not the only one."

When Severus stood to leave, he asked Harry, "What about your shop? You're going to rebuild, I take it?"

Shrugging, Harry said, "It's a bit early for that. I'm still getting used to…everything."

Severus eyed him almost disapprovingly, then said, "You remember the first rule of dueling, when you're disarmed?"

Harry sighed. "Rearm yourself as quickly as you can. I know. I just…need some time to think first."

"You've faced greater obstacles than this," Severus reminded him dourly. "You have friends who're willing to help you, money to begin again; so take the time you need, then get on with it."

Smiling, Harry saluted. "Yes, sir."

***

On Monday, Harry sat down and made himself a schedule of what to do with his free time. He had books he'd been meaning to read, magazines piled high in a corner, and letters to write. In the evenings, someone always showed up to drag him out to supper; he'd been to Ron and Hermione's once, and Fred and Luna's twice. Draco had put in an appearance several times, but still…Harry felt set adrift in a life where he no longer had days at the shop and evenings with his telly and computer.

By Thursday, he'd called and arranged for the hook-up, then set out to purchase a new computer, and small portable telly, on impulse. It was a start, he figured, although he still felt no desire to make definite plans.

On Saturday afternoon, the three of them did the first party since the shop had burnt down. Luna's arrangements with Fertey's for supplies went off without a hitch, and Harry found himself enjoying the distraction immensely. The three of them worked so well together, he realized, even without all the props they usually had on hand.

They were packing up at the end of the party, when Harry noticed Luna and Draco whispering to each other, eyeing him as they worked. Suddenly, he was filled with warmth, knowing that he really did have the best friends in the world.

After they'd left and were walking down the pavement, Harry said casually, "Look, I know what the two of you are up to, and it really isn't necessary. I'm a big boy; you don't have to entertain me every evening."

"We know that, Harry," Luna said at his side. "It's just…we don't think it's good for you to spend all of your time alone."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I’m hardly alone. I see both of you almost every day. I'm just saying you don't have to feel like you—"

"Yeah, we know, entertain you. We're not. Remember, we don't have the shop to go to either, so button it up," Draco muttered at his other side. "I've got classes in the morning, but then my days are free."

"My entire days are free," Luna murmured. "Wizarding Wheezes closes at seven, so I don’t usually see Fred during the week anyway. We're not babysitting you, Harry. We're just all trying to muddle through."

Harry wasn't convinced. "Yeah, well, I appreciate it, but we can't go on like this all summer."

They were at Luna's underground stop, so she turned and said, "Whatever you say, Harry." Nodding at Draco, she said, "Supper at my place tomorrow night?"

"We'll be there," Draco told her with a smile.

"You two are unbelievable," Harry murmured as he watched her go, then turned to Draco resignedly. "So, you drew the short straw for tonight, then?'

"I most certainly did," Draco said. "Come quietly now. I'm cooking."

***

"You want to hear something funny?" Harry asked after they'd finished up with supper and set the dishes to wash. "I thought Severus was the one who put you up to following me."

Draco made a face. "You're right—that's funny, but I haven't seen him in almost a year, so no, he didn't."

"Yeah, I know that now, but that's what I thought when I found out he…knew about you."

Seeming slightly uncomfortable, Draco rubbed at his temples. "I was worried…after those two showed up and you threatened to call the police. You know, the time right at closing when you were by yourself. So…I started hanging at the corner, waiting for you to leave. Wasn't a big deal," he muttered softly.

"Well, I appreciate what you did," Harry told him.

"Lot of good it did, though. Should've stayed and watched the shop instead."

"Who knew?" Harry asked rhetorically, then frowned as he thought. "That night when they almost got in…well, I was lucky you were there."

Draco turned on the settee, his eyes earnest. "I'm really sorry about that. I saw them go in, and was just at the door when I heard all the racket. Didn't even think about it—barged in and cast the Protego. Range was too close, though." He smiled slightly. "What a disaster. You on the floor, the two of them trying to get past me. I got them with a Stinging Hex, you'll be happy to know, then I had to decide what to do about you. You were starting to come around, so I propped your head up a bit, then let myself out. But I watched through the window until you were on your feet and went to lock the door. I almost came in and told you that night. Maybe I should've," he finished thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't have made any difference. We'd've never expected them to do what they did, even after that."

They sat quietly for a moment, then Harry had one more question. "When you followed me, I never saw you. How far did you…go?"

Draco seemed slightly embarrassed. "Just to the end of your street. I watched you from there until you were in the door. Then I left."

Harry stared him for a moment, then had to say it. "It's still really weird…but…thanks."

***

The party on Wednesday that next week was winding down. All the children were seated at their tables, eating cake and ice cream as Luna passed out favors and noise-makers. Harry was sitting moodily on the edge of the stairs to the second storey, when Pockets appeared in front of him.

"Good show," Harry told him. "They really liked the origami birds. And the rubber chicken juggling." He snorted, watching as the clown knelt down to face him. "Next time, maybe you could…" he trailed off, perplexed when Pockets put a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet.

First the clown rubbed his stomach, then licked his lips. Reaching into a pocket, he carefully pulled out…something invisible. As he made exaggerated hand motions, Harry realized that Pockets was peeling a banana that wasn't there. He watched, fascinated, as the clown licked his lips again, then tentatively stuck out his tongue, starting at the base of his hand, up…up…up to the tip of the banana, then down slowly, his eyes closed in rapture as he tasted.

Harry held his breath as he watched, while Pockets tongued the entire banana, then slowly plunged it all the way in, top to bottom, until his fist was flush with his face. The clown worked the muscles in his throat, miming sucking motions as he opened his eyes and batted them at Harry.

Looking over Pockets' shoulder to make certain they weren't being observed, Harry leant in close and muttered, "There's a part of my anatomy that finds that truly obscene…and like I told you before, that's one talented mouth. You'll make some lucky man very happy." He smiled then and reached out to tug on one of Pockets' ears.

The clown's mouth was still a round 'O', filled as it was by the banana, until he suddenly bit down, then munched loudly as he devoured the phantom fruit, ending by licking his fingers, one by one, still flirting coyly with his eyes.

Harry laughed out loud then, and clapped twice as Pockets sat back on his heels.

Wiping his mouth, the clown said in a soft voice that no one else could hear, "You really made me work for that one, Potter."

Still smiling, Harry leant in and squeaked the clown's nose. "Yeah, I'm a tough nut to crack, aren't I?"

Pockets didn't smile. "You have something to be sad about, is all. Just wanted you to forget about it for a while."

"Oh, I most certainly did," Harry assured him, and squeaked the nose a second time.

***

The next Saturday, Draco went to Victoria Park with Harry this time.

"World-tilting…seeing the two of you together…and not a drop of blood in sight," Severus said wryly.

Harry glanced at Draco. "Oh, well, we're actually getting on fairly well."

Draco taunted, "Harry likes Pockets better than me."

"That's the absolute truth," Harry smiled.

They spent a pleasurable hour, mostly Severus extracting information from Draco, whom he'd not seen in quite some time.

"So, any news on the investigation?" Severus asked as they were about to say their goodbyes.

"Not at all. They know it was arson; they have their suspicions, but I guess proving Aegis did it isn't so easy."

They were quiet for a moment, then Harry noticed that Severus and Draco were staring at one another.

"They shouldn't get away with it," Draco said quietly.

"No doubt," Severus agreed, seeming to search Draco's face. "But my experience in these matters has been that what goes around, comes around." He held his eyes for a moment longer, then turned to Harry. "You're keeping yourself busy, then?

"Yeah, we're averaging two parties a week, the hospital visit's the week after next, and I've been hanging around the clown school, trying to figure out what makes Draco tick."

Draco guffawed. "He can try all he likes to fathom my clown persona; my mystique is patented and unknowable."

"Mystique my arse," Harry muttered, making the other two men laugh.

Harry had to admit to himself, though, that the more he watched Pockets perform, the more in awe he was of the clown's skill and art: all the more so now that he knew that the man hadn't sprung up from a clowning family, where his mother and father had taught him their craft.

No, in fact, Draco had come from the least funny family imaginable, which Harry had to acknowledge did lend his entire clowning talent a…mystique of its own.

***

The two of them sat so close together that their knees almost touched.

"Try not to laugh," Draco told Harry as he smoothed a hand over Harry's cheek. When Harry pressed his lips together, Draco tsked and tapped him on the side of his neck. "That's no better either. You have to keep the muscles in your face relaxed, as much as you can," he said as he turned to the small table beside them to scoop up another dollop of white face paint with his fingers.

Harry sat with his hands resting on his thighs, back straight, his neck slightly craned forward as Draco, just opposite him, took his time to fix Harry's clown face. Working more of the cream into Harry's cheek, then up onto his forehead, Draco told him, "You already know that being a clown, especially in clown face, is all about being vulnerable."

"Yeah, I seem to remember someone telling me that," Harry said through his teeth. He winced as Draco firmly drew on large black eyebrows, then warily watched as he picked up a smaller pot of red face paint.

"You can talk, just don't move your lips," he teased as he began to paint a one-inch oval around Harry's mouth. "Use your body too. Your gestures, your eyes. All those things…are how you get your audience to identify with you. Because…" He sat back and narrowed his eyes as he turned Harry's face to the left and right, then released it. "…human emotion is universal. Think about it: humor, sadness, rage, elation, frustration, fear. No matter what you do, they'll get it—even children. Especially children."

Pushing his chair back, Draco studied Harry's face, then nodded. "Now for the finishing touches." Standing, he rummaged in a box at the back of the table, then turned and sat again. "How about blue hair?" Fitting the skullcap wig on, he then freed the tips of Harry's ears. After a few minor adjustments, the final addition was the red rubber clown nose. When Draco squeaked it, Harry had to struggle not to laugh out loud. One last dusting with powder, a spritz of fixative, and Draco pulled Harry up by his hands and turned him toward the mirror.

As Harry stared, mouth gaping, Draco watched from over his shoulder. Meeting Harry's stunned eyes, Draco murmured, "God, you're already an open book." Patting Harry on the shoulder, Draco told him, "Practice a bit; try on some expressions. I'm going to make myself some tea, and then you're going to entertain me."

Harry continued to stare at his reflection for a moment, then slowly, he experimented with his mouth. Big smiles, small ones, grimaces and growls. He tried raising his eyebrows and managed a very weak imitation of Pockets, but then discovered that he was adept enough at wiggling his nose to produce a fairly silly effect. The eyes were the hardest part to alter, he found, as he tried to inject them with pity and sadness, joy and terror.

"Ah. Yes, the eyes are the hardest," Harry heard from behind him. He turned and saw that Draco had set a straight back chair in the center of the room and parked himself on it. Gesturing with his teacup toward Harry's face, he elaborated, "The eyes, unlike the other parts of the face, will only reflect emotion from within. Strong emotion. Something you have to dredge up from inside of yourself, and magnify ten-fold for the audience to be able see it." He sat back in the chair. "So, Mr. Clown, show me what you feel. Not made-up stuff, you understand. What's in there right now?"

Standing still just in front of him, Harry considered the challenge for a moment: not to act the way he thought a clown should act, but to use clowning license to show what was actually there, inside Harry Potter, on this particular evening in July. But first, he himself had to figure out what that was.

Harry pondered, grateful that Draco continued to sit silently. He realized that being entirely truthful would make him vulnerable, something Harry wasn't exactly comfortable with, especially in front of this particular person.

From out of his clown-painted face, Harry soberly stared at the man in front of him. Just the sight of those eyes…waiting expectantly…reminded Harry that Pockets had taken this very same risk with Harry himself, day after day, asking for nothing in return except …acceptance, yes, but more specifically, validation.

"Harry, show me what you feel," Draco repeated gently.

Opening his mouth to speak, Harry rolled his eyes as remembered he was voiceless. When Draco laughed softly, Harry was inspired to reach up and pull the corners of his lips down. Sliding his hands up to his eyes, he used his thumbs to grotesquely draw down their lower pockets. He saw Draco set his cup on the floor, then sit up straighter.

Almost in slow motion, Harry contorted his face in a grimace, baring his teeth, then widened his mouth in the caricature of a snarl.

"Use your body too," came the quiet words.

Harry didn't even have to think. Face still twisted, he widened the stance of his legs, then raised his fist and shook it at the ceiling.

"Very good. You're angry."

Next up was an invisible miming of battering a punching bag that repeatedly knocked Harry over, only infuriating him further. He kicked several invisible buckets and landed on his arse. Even though Draco laughed, Harry didn't feel funny at all. But the more he kicked and punched and danced….

"Great eyes. You've got the depth right…the rage…the despair…the helplessness."

Harry bent over at the waist, and thrust his hands into the wig and mimed pulling his hair out, his chest shaking with suppressed anger. He pounded his knees with his fists, rocked from side to side, then stood slowly again, his shoulders slumped, as he showcased his exhaustion.

"Yeah, I do understand. Someone should pay," Draco told him as he stood, then pointed Harry toward the chairs by the makeup table.

"Come here," Draco murmured, then reaching up, he surprised Harry by grasping him by the shoulders and pulling him to the edge of his chair. He searched his eyes for a moment, and then shook his head. Taking a wet tissue from the cream container, he gently began to remove the makeup. "Being bitter is just one more way they make you pay."

His voice was calm, and the action soothing. Harry closed his eyes, the emotion suddenly there without him having to work for it.

"Don't let them do that to you. Putting your life back together is the best way of not letting them win," Draco continued as he wiped carefully around Harry's eyes with the cream.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, then sighed. "So…I guess that's what I'll do, then."

Draco tilted his head to the side, biting at his lower lip as he concentrated. But he spared a slight smile for Harry. "I knew you would. You just needed a kick in the arse, is all."

***

Harry strolled into Kimley's for lunch, spotted Luna and Draco at their usual table in the back and smiled when Luna waved.

"Hullo, Harry," she greeted him as he slid into his chair, then wasted no time in rotating the folded newspaper to rest in front of him. "Look at this," she directed as she pointed to an article near the bottom.

Harry bent in to read, then sucked in a breath. "Aegis Development Corporation Headquarters Building Destroyed in Mysterious Explosion," he murmured, then read rapidly, mouthing the words as he went. Nearly to the end, he read aloud, "No fire…but inspectors speculate that fumes from large containers of industrial-grade accelerants stored in the basement might have contributed to the explosion." He looked up to see Draco watching him attentively.

Looking down, he finished, "Corporate executives of the mega-development company have been called to account for their possession of the illegal substances, especially in light of the recent destruction of five shops on Lassiter Street in June, where an identical accelerant was used. Three of the affected properties had already been purchased by Aegis, who acquired the fourth after the suspicious fire. Charges of malfeasance were subsequently lodged by several of the property owners, but no solid evidence had yet been discovered to link Aegis to the suspected arson. There were no injuries reported in either of the two incidents."

Silently, Harry folded the paper, then looked up to find Draco studiously buttering his toast. "Draco…" He glanced at Luna, who was stuffing a croissant in her mouth. "Draco, you wouldn't happen to know anything…" Harry stopped and shook his head, when Draco looked up at him questioningly.

"About that?" Draco tapped the newspaper. "Oh, I know one thing, and so do you," he said pointedly. "Severus said it best: what goes around, comes around." He shrugged at the stunned look on Harry's face. "You play with fire, you get burned. Simple as that."

Harry ate his sandwich thoughtfully. He didn't like the idea that Severus…or Draco…or whoever had done this had done it on his behalf. But he couldn't deny the perverse pleasure of knowing that a wrong had been righted—perhaps by his friends, perhaps by someone who also bore Aegis a grudge, or perhaps it really was just good old providence doling out justice. All Harry knew was the tight hitch that'd sat in his chest since he'd watched his shop go up in smoke suddenly snapped free, with the satisfying knowledge that he'd somehow been avenged.

When lunch was finished, and Luna bade them goodbye for the day, Draco tossed a folded piece of paper across the table.

"What's this?" Harry asked as he unfolded it. Scanning the short list, he looked up at Draco.

"Time to get you back in business again. Come on—we have a two o'clock appointment at the first one."

When Harry opened his mouth to…he wasn't sure what he was about to do—protest or feign a headache—Draco pulled him up by his shirtsleeve and grinned.

"No time like the present!"

***

The first property they visited was a vacant lot with possibilities. It had a favorable street position, and the price was right, but Harry only listened as Draco asked the questions and led him around, mostly by nudging him rudely with his elbow.

At the second property, also sans building, Harry felt his interest awakening.

By the third, this time an empty shop front, Harry was the one peppering the realtor with questions. He noticed that Draco mostly stood to the side, a small smile on his face as he let Harry do the talking.

But by the fourth, a small shop front that had just been vacated, Harry's eyes were shining, and it seemed that this transformation engaged Draco as well. It wasn't long before they were both seated at the counter with the realtor, haggling over percentage points and payment options. With a promise that his solicitor would be in touch, they bid the man a good day, then stood for a moment outside, looking up at the shop.

"Party Props Two?" Draco asked him.

Harry shook his head. "No, just Party Props," he said softly, feeling that old familiar feeling of anticipation: of having a life to plan, of having somewhere to go in the morning, of having something meaningful to do with his days, and all because….

He glanced at Draco, and found him watching him with a satisfied smirk on his face. Fearing he'd shown too much, Harry muttered, "What?"

"Nothing. Just…you're back," Draco said, then added dramatically, "Finally, thank god for all of us."

***

They celebrated by Fire-calling Luna, and watched through the Floo as she and Fred did the dance of joy around her tiny flat.

There was primo takeaway as well, after a brief argument over which was most appropriate for the occasion: Chinese or Mediterranean.

After they'd polished off every single carton, the two of them slumped on either end of the settee with the bottle of wine stuck into the cushion crevice between them.

"So…Draco," Harry said as he wedged himself into the corner and brought his feet up. "This clown guy you fucked. Is he still around? I know you said you were still friends, but I was wondering…"

"Nah, he's working at the competitor's," he said mockingly. "Traitor." He smiled. "I see him every couple of months. But just friends."

"You're not seeing anyone, then?"

Draco looked at him sideways. "No, just you."

"Ha ha, very funny," Harry retorted, then watched as Draco twisted in his seat to face him, sliding his legs along the inside of the settee, avoiding Harry's lying along the outside.

"No, I'm serious. Not seeing anyone. How about you?"

Harry scoffed, "Oh yeah, as if I had a free night to do that." He sobered when Draco's eyes drifted up to his. "No, just you."

"So…this Aiden bloke," Draco said curiously. "You still miss him?"

Harry had to think for a moment. "Yeah, I do miss… No," he said as he changed his mind. "I don't miss him, per se. It's more like I miss having him around. That make any sense?" he asked.

"I think so."

"I miss…parts of him. Like lying in bed and hearing his key in the lock. And listening to him in the shower." He glanced at Draco, then said ruefully, "He sang off-tune." When Draco laughed softly, Harry went on. "Fighting over the newspaper, taking turns washing up. Those sorts of things. He was mostly just a very good friend."

"What did the two of you do, you know, together?"

Shrugging, Harry admitted, "Well, not much. Except for watching movies, once in a while going out for a meal. And fucking. Now that I think about it, we didn't have all that much in common. He didn't even like Luna. Said she was spacey."

"Definitely something wrong with him," Draco muttered.

Harry smiled. "Yeah…but you and Luna getting along is a bit weird too."

"I adore Luna. She'd make a great clown," Draco mused.

"Oh god, please don’t tell her that," Harry said in mock alarm, then laughed when Draco reached out to pinch his toes.

"I already have, so I guess I've just let the kneazle out of the bag on that one."

Eyeing him speculatively, Harry said, "You two…when I think she knew all along, that it was you."

"Oh, I think she knew long before she let on that she did."

"How did she know?" Harry asked.

"I think it was something about the way I did my magic tricks. She said she could spot a fake a mile away, and I wasn't one. Then she looked me up and down, stared at my face and said, 'Draco, I know it's you.' Nearly pissed myself," he laughed as he remembered.

"That's Luna," Harry had to agree. There were just some things that Luna seemed to have an instinct about, and a person's character was one of them. His eyes became thoughtful as he watched Draco still smiling to himself. "You know, Aiden and I never talked like you and I do. Sort of…"

"Intimate?" Draco supplied for him.

Harry looked doubtful. "I'm not sure intimate is the—"

"Harry, the most intimate thing a person can do is make someone smile when they don't want to," Draco told him rather smugly, his gray eyes sparkling.

"You did make me smile," Harry admitted slowly.

"And laugh," Draco reminded him.

Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud, then sobered suddenly, realizing he'd just made Draco's point. "All right, in that sense, then, I guess you're right. We've been…intimate. But remember, it was Pockets who made me smile…and laugh," he added dryly. "That's different."

Tilting his head to the side, Draco raised an eyebrow. "Is it? A clown is transparent." He shrugged, still watching Harry. "Pockets is Draco."

Harry readjusted himself on the settee, then crossed his arms. "Oh, really? Well, then, Draco, make me smile. No makeup or props, just you."

Draco snorted at the challenge, then stood to his feet, using the opportunity to tweak Harry's toes again. He turned to face the wall for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and turned back, his head hanging slightly forward.

Lifting his head slowly, he met Harry's eyes and held them, as he brought a hand up, then slipped it exaggeratedly down into his trousers. Lewdly palming his crotch, the outline of his hand clearly visible through the thin fabric, he jutted his hips forward as he worked his hidden hand.

Harry stared at him, open-mouthed, as Draco pulled out his hand and held it in the air, motionless for a moment, then let it fall to point at Harry, and then to himself. Raising a questioning eyebrow, he dropped his hand and palmed his crotch once more, this time from the outside. He made a rapid circuit of pointing between the two of them, palming his cock, gesturing between the two of them again, then ended by waggling both eyebrows suggestively, a definite leer on his face.

Stunned, Harry guffawed outright.

Draco smiled triumphantly. "See? Took me less than thirty seconds."

Harry had to snicker. "You're amazing, I'll admit it. More outrageous than funny, though." Sliding a forefinger along his nose, he said with a smile, "You know…I think Pockets just propositioned me."

For a moment, Draco seemed to freeze as he stared at Harry, then shook his head as he sat carefully on the edge of the settee to pull on his shoes. Turning his head to the side, he said quietly, "Yeah, well, time for me to go." He was up again, handed Harry the nearly empty bottle of wine, and was headed for the door as Harry struggled to his feet.

"Draco?" he called out, puzzled.

Draco stopped at the door and turned back, and it was then that Harry saw the misery in his eyes.

"Wasn't Pockets who propositioned you, Potter. It was me."

Harry was still standing by the settee, frozen in place, when the man let himself out.

***

Draco's eyes…

Every time Harry closed his own to try and sleep, he saw them. The way he'd looked at him from the doorway…confused, yes, and almost hurt.

Rolling over in the bed, his feet tangling in the sheets, Harry punched his pillow in frustration. It wasn't only Draco's eyes he saw, though, but Pockets' as well. Flashes of them in the shop…smiling down at children, sparkling at Luna's antics, glittering with rage at Harry's misfortune, filling with tears at the sight of a dying child….

For just a moment tonight, those eyes had been filled with longing…and disappointment. He'd been transparent, so Draco had told him. Pockets' eyes had been watching him for so long, and Harry had to admit that he'd been watching the clown as well…

Harry'd felt longing too, and a surge of lust that had taken him by surprise as Draco'd pantomimed that little gag to make him smile. But…not just lust.

He'd felt desire. Desire that'd had its beginnings in his heart…an emotion that had grown over the past two months as he'd come to know Draco. Oh, he'd realized all of this in that split second before he'd laughed out loud, but hadn't in his wildest dreams imagined that Draco could want him …. How could he? He'd only been trying to make Harry smile, or so he'd thought, but he'd known in that instant, when Draco looked at him from the door, that he'd been seriously mistaken…when he'd seen Draco's eyes.

Throwing the sheet to the side, Harry was out of the bed and had his shirt and trousers on in a matter of seconds. Sliding his feet into his sandals, he grabbed his wand and was out the door in under a minute.

Although Harry almost always used the underground to navigate the city, this time he Apparated carefully to the side of Draco's building. It was the middle of the night, and the streets were nearly deserted, but honestly, Harry decided, I'm a wizard, bloody hell, and this time I'll bloody well Apparate if I bloody well want to!

He ignored the lift and took the stairs, two at a time, then raced to the end of the hallway, breathing hard by the time he pounded on Draco's door. When there was no sound from within for a moment, he almost panicked.

What if he hadn't come home? What if he'd gone to a pub? What if he'd decided to—

Harry was filled with relief when the door was suddenly thrown open. He'd rehearsed what he was going to say, but was brought up short by the sight of Draco's face.

"Draco?" he asked, staring at the half-made up face. No white paint, no red clown nose or skullcap. Just the twin trails of red hearts spilling onto his cheeks like tears….and a large black mouth that was drawn down into a frown at the sides. This wasn't Pockets…this was a…sad-face clown.

"Potter. What're you doing here? It's nearly three…is something wrong?" Draco asked him tiredly.

Harry shook his head, still staring at his face. "No, nothing's wrong. Well, something is, but it's not… Do you mind if I come in?" he asked quietly.

Draco glanced over his shoulder, then back to Harry. "I was just…" He stopped with a sigh. "Sure, c'mon in."

They walked into the sitting room, and just as Harry'd expected, the small light was on at the makeup table. For a moment, Harry was perplexed, wondering why in the world Draco would be painting his face at such an hour, then he turned and looked at the man…and suddenly he understood. Draco was standing with his arms at his sides, seeming resigned to something Harry couldn't put his finger on, until he met the man's eyes.

The longing was still there, though not as intense, but the eyes were…sad, in a way that Harry'd never seen before. His heart wrenched suddenly, with the knowledge that he was responsible. Well, he'd been the one to start this, and he damn well was going to set it to rights.

Pulling another chair over to the makeup table, he pointed Draco to the one where he'd obviously been sitting. "Sit down."

Draco stared at him for a moment, then shrugged before taking his seat.

Harry slid his own chair so they were facing each other, only inches apart. Turning, he picked up the jar of cold cream and motioned for Draco to lean in. "Let's get this stuff off you." Draco hesitated for a moment, then craned his neck forward and shut his eyes.

Talking as he wiped the paint off with a cream-soaked tissue, Harry told him, "I don't think you realize it, but tonight…" He discarded the tissue to pick up another. "…when you did that thing, that outrageous…obscene…whatever that was to make me smile, well, I had this unexpected reaction."

Draco's eyes flew open, but he didn't otherwise move. "You did?" he asked.

"I did. And I think I hid it because…well, I thought it must be only me." Harry's tongue worked at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on removing the stubborn frown from Draco's painted face. "You were in such a hurry to leave, and I didn't understand why…until I saw your eyes." He slid his own up to meet Draco's. "At the door."

Draco took the tissue from Harry's hand and began to wipe around his mouth. "My eyes?"

"Yeah, your eyes. So, I went to bed and I was lying there…thinking about you."

"You think about me in bed?" Draco's eyes had recovered that soft gray, sparkling quality.

"Clueless," Harry told him. "That's me. If I had a Knut for every time Hermione told me that's what I was, well, I'd be a rich man."

"You are a rich man," Draco murmured as he tossed the tissues into the bin, and then turned back.

Harry ignored him to go on. "And what I was thinking was, now that I have a clue, maybe what we need to do is…go to the next step. You know, beyond the intimate smiling part. Because I sure as hell want to, and I think you do too. And besides, Severus said my problem was that I needed to find a wizard."

"I'm a wizard," Draco told him solemnly, then slowly ran his tongue along the rim of his lips, as if to see if the paint was gone; the gesture connected straight to Harry's cock.

Tilting his head to the side, the hint of a smile on his face, Draco said softly, "Are you propositioning me?"

"I sure as hell am," Harry told him soberly, his heart pounding. "I was thinking…just now…that I'd like to make you smile."

Draco moved suddenly, both hands sliding into Harry's hair as he fixed his head in place. Leaning forward, he kissed him, softly and measured at first, then more insistently, causing Harry to bring his hands up to hold onto Draco's shoulders.

Harry groaned when Draco's tongue slipped between his lips, then pushed back with his own. There was an explosion of heat and hunger as they learnt each other's mouths, twisting their tongues, opening wider as the kiss deepened, stopping as they leant their foreheads together to catch their breaths, then starting all over again.

The first to pull completely away, Draco stood and held down a hand to Harry. Hoisting him up, he pushed him gently in the direction of the bedroom. Harry, no longer clueless, but well beyond eager, reached back and grabbed Draco by the hand.

***

Draco had only been clad in boxers when Harry'd arrived, so he was already naked and stretched out on the sheets, watching as Harry undressed.

Harry smiled at the lack of awkwardness between them as he slid onto the bed and into Draco's arms. They'd left a small light on in the room, for which Harry was grateful. He wanted to see Draco, after all those months of wondering what was under that clown suit.

They both groaned at that first flash of full-body skin contact. "God, you're beautiful," Harry murmured into the hair at Draco's ear. "I knew you would be."

Draco rolled them both in the bed, then sat up to straddle Harry at his waist. "You're about to know much more than that," he smiled down at him, beginning to run his hands up Harry's sides, then down across his chest. He leant in then, and fastened his mouth to the skin of Harry's neck, making Harry arch up against him.

He gasped at the sucking sensation, lightly running his fingernails down the center of Draco's back, then shifted slightly to the side so their cocks were rubbing together. He was rewarded by Draco releasing his neck to let out his own moan of arousal. They frotted almost frantically for a moment, until Draco rolled to the side.

His eyes never leaving Harry's, Draco murmured an, "Accio lube," then as he flicked the cap up, he said, "Pull your knees up." Without a word, Harry obeyed, then blushed almost furiously as Draco leant in over his chest, his fingers dripping.

Staring intently, Draco gently thrust his fingers into Harry's arse, muttering, "God, you're tight."

Harry only grunted in pleasure, out of breath and so…wickedly desperate to have the man inside him. He tolerated the preparation, then said breathily, "Draco, now."

First one and then the other, Draco slid Harry's legs atop his shoulders, then caught his eyes again as he nudged the head of his cock against Harry's arsehole. He paused, then braced a hand against Harry's chest, one last question in his eyes as he looked down at Harry.

"Fuck me, Draco," Harry growled, a low guttural sound from the back of his throat.

"Three little words I never thought I'd hear you say," Draco murmured as he penetrated him in a single fluid motion. Harry arched upward off the bed, only vaguely aware of Draco's arms moving down to slide behind his neck.

Draco pulled back, then plunged again, using his arms to pull Harry up off the bed toward him. Bent in half, his lungs crushed by the position, Harry was suddenly caught between emotion and sensation…the picture of Draco, his long hair hanging in his face as he bit his lower lip in concentration…the exquisite feeling of fullness and heat in his arse. Harry reached up and wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders, pulling violently as Draco thrust forward, then jutting his hips forward when he moved back, squeezing the muscles of his arse as tightly as he could, earning him a groan from the man fucking him.

The pace became frenetic, hell-bent on completion as they sweated and pounded, pushed and pulled in a tandem rhythm that was almost effortless, but full of breathtaking effort. Harry didn't want it to ever stop, he wanted it to go on forever, he wanted to make Draco ride him, he wanted to be filled and owned and satisfied, just as he wanted so fiercely to possess and please him. He wheezed out a, "God yes!" when he felt Draco's hand fumble briefly between them, then grab hold of his cock. Harry pumped his hips upward even faster as the hand began to fist his cock—strong, sure strokes that made him suddenly change his mind about going on forever.

He needed to come…he wanted so fucking bad to come, and he felt himself just on the verge of it, when Draco stiffened and let out a low cry, as he emptied warm semen deep inside Harry's arse.

Harry did his best to hold on tightly to Draco's neck, then felt his balls draw up and an explosion of light behind his eyes and he was coming…oh god oh god oh god he was coming…. He lost control of his legs as they jerked and then slid from Draco's shoulders. Draco collapsed onto Harry's chest, and Harry reflexively reached his arms up to hold him, as they both panted, their slick chests heaving against each other.

Harry was vaguely aware of Draco's cock slipping out of his arse, then the sound of a murmured spell. The sheet was pulled up as Draco rolled them both to their sides. The last thing Harry was aware of was being dragged backward in the bed, snug against Draco's chest, then sleep claimed them both.

***

Harry rolled lazily to his side to find Draco watching him. Reaching out, he touched his cheek. "Hey there," he said softly as he smiled. "This is sort of—"

Draco caught his hand and squeezed it hard. "If you say weird, I swear to god…"

Shaking his head, Harry told him, "No, not weird. I was going to say…funny."

"Funny ha ha? Or funny odd? "

"A bit of both, I think. You and me…the clown bit…ending up where we are. I…never, ever would've thought…"

Moving closer in the bed, Draco draped an arm over Harry's shoulder. "I've had more time to get used to the idea, see, and the advantage of knowing who you were. Didn't see this one coming, that's for sure. Sort of crept up on me…wanting you," he said as he buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck and drew in a deep breath.

Harry closed his eyes and savored the moment, then he pulled his face away and came up on an elbow in the bed. Draco looked slightly wounded. "Tell me," Harry said solemnly.

Draco mirrored his position, then took a moment to think. He nodded at Harry, just as solemnly.

"Watching you with the kids…how you cared about every one of them. And then Callie. The way you looked the day I made her laugh. Yeah, that was the beginning…and then all those little conversations between the two of us in your shop. That's when it hit me that you…have the funny. Got to see the real you, I guess. And it didn't hurt that I knew what you were like before, and how you'd loosened up and made this amazing life for yourself."

"Oh, I've definitely got the funny," Harry said wryly. "Luna saw to that."

"So, how did you end up here?" Draco asked, reaching out to stroke his thumb over Harry's lower lip, his eyes dilating when Harry noisily sucked it in for just a moment.

Leaning across all of a sudden, Harry kissed him soundly, then rested back again. "I wanted Pockets first," he admitted. "You…Draco came later."

"Really? You wanted the clown?" Draco asked with a laugh.

Harry nodded. "The first time, I think, was in the lift at the hospital…when you cried. Then when you did that banana thing," he smiled. "I went home and wanked. Had to, thinking of that talented mouth." He had to bite his lip when Draco waggled his tongue at him. "Oh, I'll certainly take you up on that," he informed him, then his eyes narrowed slightly.

"But as for wanting Draco, it's like you said—it sort of crept up on me. After I knew who you were, and the shop was gone, I figured you'd just go back to teaching your classes." His face softened. "But you stuck with me, just like a friend would. Almost every single day…and I realized I was looking forward to seeing you, and then I started to, uh, notice you…"

Draco's eyes glittered. "Notice me how?"

"Your…unfunny bits," Harry muttered, feeling the flush in his face.

"Could've fooled me," Draco said, "because I was watching for any sign at all that you'd—"

"Well, see, that's the problem. I don't have the greatest track record when it comes to blokes, and I couldn't imagine you'd think of me that way." He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "You're…just like Pockets, you know." He glanced sideways at Draco. "Sensitive, funny, considerate…all the things I look for, before the rest of me can make that leap. So, tonight was a surprise because I'm used to wanting people I'm doomed to fail with—people who'll never know who or what I am. So…they lose interest."

Draco leant closer and slid his hand beneath the sheet. "Oh, I'm definitely interested—have been for a long time," he almost whispered as he began to move his fingers. "But…it is weird, isn't it? The two of us?" Draco asked, smiling at the flush on Harry's face.

"Oh, I don't know. We've both got the…funny," Harry struggled to say, his breath short. Stilling Draco's hand with his own for a moment, he asked, "This won't change anything, though, will it? You'll still be my clown? I'll need you when the shop opens."

Nudging Harry's hand away, Draco started to fondle him again. "I'll be your fool if you want me to."

Harry's only answer was a gasp as he jutted upward into that hand.

Draco threw the sheet aside, then slid down in the bed. "Time to put this talented mouth to work. See if I can make you smile."

But Harry already was.

***

Epilogue: One Year Later

"You're late," Draco said curtly as he saw Harry's reflection in the mirror. He continued with the task of putting on his makeup, watching as Harry stripped to his tee shirt and boxers. He smiled at the sight of Harry's arse wiggling as he struggled into the bright yellow clown suit.

"Yeah, I know. I had a last minute customer who couldn't decide on the donkey piñata or the Pac-Man one." He sat to pull on his oversized shoes, then grabbed a towel and draped it around his shoulders, before taking a seat at the makeup table next to Draco's.

"Well, Luna's already dressed and…" Draco rolled his eyes. "…doing that meditation thing." He jerked his head toward the corner.

Harry glanced in her direction before he started to paint his face. There she was, sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring dreamily off into space. Puddles' bright purple one-piece suit ballooned out from her petite figure, the delicately painted face serene as could be, the delightful effect topped off with a bright yellow wig and orange clown shoes. And for some reason, Puddles had insisted on a long striped tail. Harry'd laughed outright, but Draco had bowed to her inspiration.

"She looks great," Harry smiled as he began, then looked up when he felt Draco's hands on his shoulders. Looking into the mirror, he met Draco's eyes, then reached up and gently squeezed his hands. "You look great too. But then you always do," he added philosophically as he dipped his hand into the paint jar. "Even without the clown suit—hell, especially without the clown suit—actually you look best when you're starkers," he murmured, catching Draco's eye in the mirror again.

Pockets' eyes widened as the dual eyebrows shot upwards into his wig. "Don't let the children hear you say that," he threatened, then leant down and placed a kiss atop Harry's head. "So, Patches, are you nervous?"

Harry talked between his teeth now to spare his face paint. "Not really. Did you see who's out there? I tried to take a peek when I first came in."

Draco pulled up a chair to sit beside him. "Everyone who gives a damn about us is out there. And about three dozen kids from the school's invitation list." He sat in silence and watched as Harry worked, offering a word of correction here, a touch of adjustment there, until Harry was completely made up.

Rousing Luna from her semi-stupor, the three of them stood in the wings, awaiting their cue to enter the ring.

Harry's hand found Draco's, then he leant over to say his final words of the next half-hour. "Love you."

Pockets' eyes were solemn as he searched Harry's, then he mouthed the words, "Me too."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, the Alcoma Cooperative School of Clown Arts is proud to present its newest clown trio in their debut event! Welcome them with a round of thunderous applause, if you please—Pockets, Patches, and Puddles!"

They raced out into the arena to the sound of circus music and enthusiastic clapping; the three of them lined up straight across, just opposite the crowd, and took a bow. As Harry looked up, he felt a sudden lump in his throat at the sight of every single person who was important to him, seated proudly in the first row.

All the Weasleys were there as well as their spouses, many of them with children at their sides or on their laps; Fred seemed to be wearing the biggest, proudest grin of his life; Neville and Gabrielle were there, as well as Neville's gran, and right beside her, Draco's Aunt Andromeda and Xenophilius Lovegood. Standing at either side of the grandstand, there was an obvious Auror presence, and just at the end of the row sat Severus Snape, bouncing a four-toothed baby on his knee, with Teddy sitting between his step-father and mother, who'd clearly let her Metamorphmagus side dress her for the occasion.

Harry was suddenly jerked by the hand, as Luna none-too-gently reminded him that they had a show to do.

There was running and chasing, mock-scolding and miming; there were gags that took all three of them, accentuated with acrobatic tumbling and juggling, as well as the classic whiteface clown pitted against his crafty underlings routine, one that was Harry's favorite, as it gave both him and Luna a chance to prank the uppity Pockets without fear of serious retribution.

They danced, they cried, they held their sides as they shook with laughter; there were magic tricks, with Pockets controlling the wand, of course, as well as screams of mock distress from the crowd as they were sprayed with seltzer bottles and squirted by flowers.

It was the very end of the half-hour, and Harry could hardly believe it was over. The music built as Patches stalked Pockets, encouragingly patted on the back by his female partner in crime. Lifting the bucket, he readied himself for the final gag. He would miss the clown, of course, and litter the crowd with its full contents of colorful confetti.

As Pockets turned and caught Patches' eye, about to step out of the way, Harry smiled to himself. Adjusting his aim, he intentionally missed the crowd and instead modified his trajectory so that Pockets was caught off guard with a shower of confetti that covered him, head to toe.

The crowd screamed with delight; the entire front row hooted and hollered and stomped their feet. As the lights came up, and the music cued their exit, the three clowns held hands, swung them forward and backward twice, then took their bow. Leaping and honking their horns as they went, they raced from the ring, the grandstand still wildly applauding.

Breathless, Pockets and Patches and Puddles leant against the wall to catch their breath.

"My goodness, I've always said that clowning is hard work! But the rush!" Luna laughed as she clapped her hands, jumping up and down, then launched herself at the two men, hugging them both at once. "Did you see? Daddy's here!" Her eyes gleamed with pleasure. "Meet you at the shop? My husband wants me to keep the suit on, but I told him maybe next time," she jabbered excitedly as she headed for the changing room. "It's going to be the best party ever!"

"Did you notice she never calls him Fred anymore?" Pockets mumbled in mock irritation.

"Yeah, newlyweds. But…Fred Weasley married to a clown? The gods must be smiling," Patches told him as they watched her skip down the hallway, her chartreuse and orange tail lifted high behind her.

Left alone for the moment, Patches turned to Pockets, completely unrepentant. Biting his lower lip, he made an attempt to brush some of the confetti from the clown's face and hair, but it was a lost cause, stuck as it was in the fixative. "You're a mess," he said hoarsely, trying to hold the laughter in.

Pockets reached out and grabbed his hand at the wrist to pull him close. "You were brilliant. As was Luna. My best students yet," he said, frowning as Harry still tried to pick confetti out of his eyelashes.

"Thanks, Draco. All your doing, though. And to think the three of us can use this in the shop…it's a gift, is what it is. Thanks," he smiled at Draco as he gave up on the confetti.

The clown looked at him, unsmiling. "That last bit…wasn't in the routine. Rule number one: you never change the routine—that's the whiteface's prerogative."

Harry snorted. "Oh yeah? So what's the whiteface gonna to do about it? Punish me?"

Draco reached out and roughly pulled their hips together. "That's also the whiteface's prerogative. So…you can count on it…tonight…at home…after the party."

Angling his mouth to kiss him, Harry murmured, "Funny…I was hoping you'd say that."


FIN