Chapter Twelve
"Come on Draco. Rise and shine!"
"Is there sunshine?"
Harry looked out the window. "No, not yet."
"Then I'm not rising!" yelled the stubborn voice beneath the blankets. Harry sighed and went over to the bed, climbed on top of the mound of fabric and boyfriend, and grabbed handfuls of the lump, pinching and squeezing until squeals of outrage muffled through.
"Come on, you lazy snake, you. Today's the day!"
"Vagay?!" shouted the bump, which Harry roughly translated to 'what day?' or 'lunar bay?' His pillow talk was a little rusty. Yanking the covers off to reveal a very ruffled Draco, his blonde hair sticking off his head at every angle imaginable, Harry grinned encouragingly into his face and told him what day.
"Race day! Get up you lazy sod, how are you supposed to do a marathon on your back?" Draco openly grinned and went to say something, but Harry cut him off, "There is no such word as a sexathon."
Draco raised an eyebrow that clearly said that he begged to differ, and once his energy was not divided towards the marathon, then he would prove it. Harry flopped on the mattress and buried his head and hands into Draco's back, trying to push and butt him out of bed. "Get up!"
"I might move faster if you pinched a little lower…"
"If I did, then neither of us would be moving from this bed. Get up!" Harry gave one final push and Draco dropped gracelessly off the side of the bed in a roll of limbs and blankets. His head popped up a second later as he sent the Malfoy death-glare across to Harry, who found him adorable. Like a hissing kitten. "Get ready. We'll leg it round the park before we drive up to the starting line."
Draco paled a little, but nodded. Their run was done in silence.
xxx
Sometimes he twitches when he is trying particularly hard to get to sleep. It's unintentional; his body would be so tired that all the command signals from his brain would go haywire and make his leg twitch. Sometimes, it twitched and ended up kicking Harry. Harry swore that Draco did it on purpose, but Harry didn't have Twitchy Leg Syndrome, so he couldn't understand.
Sometimes, Twitchy Leg Syndrome carried into his subconscious, and as he dreamt about a whole harem of Harrys…a Harry harem, his leg would suddenly twitch, waking not only himself from the wonderful dream, but Harry as well. Harry assumed this was purposeful, as well.
Now Draco's legs were twitching and yes, he was doing it on purpose. To hide the nervous shakes. By jiggling his legs in a vague rhythm that could convey impatience better than nerves. If Harry knew he was nervous, then he would suggest that Draco back out, and as the car neared London, Draco was more than likely to agree.
As Harry changed gear, Draco wished he had stayed in bed that day.
xxx
Draco checked that his number was pinned upon his chest securely for the third time, then bent down, dipping below the bent bums doing stretches, to check his laces. Brian had once told him a story about a man who jogged with untied shoelaces and Draco wasn't going to make that mistake! Definitely not. Stretching his legs a little, rotating each ankle, and tapping each foot on the ground, he was beginning to feel anxious. He stomach felt like it was in his left trainer, flopping about every time he looked at the large start line.
A Draco checked the plasters on his nipples, he heard his name through the noise of the crowd and he turned his head for the source. The sight that met him made him laugh with surprise. They were all there, and had somehow managed to push their way to the front of the spectators. Harry was clenching the railing, smiling at him with what Draco dared to assume was pride. Around him were Seamus, Dean, Hermione and Ron. The Weasley twins were chanting his name and holding up a banner. He squinted over the heads of the other runners and made out the silver and green words waving in the light breeze, Draco: Champion of the Muggles! Standing next to the twins, clearly irritated that elbows were being waggled in front of his face, was Blaise, looking terribly uncomfortable to be surrounded by so many blood traitors, half breeds, Mudbloods and Muggles. But he was there, nevertheless, shooting glares at everyone around him. When he caught Draco's gaze, he smirked and tilted his head. Looking a little way down, Draco's surprise was almost tangible. Standing there, with his arm wrapped around a woman he had met once before, was Brian. Both of them waved to him.
Spinning his eyes back to Harry, he let the grin that had been threatening to break free finally mar his face. Harry smiled back, joining in with the twins chanting. "Draco, Draco, he's the best, we love him more than all the rest! Draco! Draco!"
"Contenders. Please move to the start line." Draco stood, letting the rest of the runners shuffle forward. Once he was further back in the bulk, he got ready for the run he had been waiting for. This was his time to prove that he was not just a pretty face, though damn, am I pretty, he was going to be the winner. He was going to be loved by all and he was certainly not going to collapse before he reached the finishing line. "Ladies and gentlemen…on your marks…get set…GO!"
The shuffle was madness, like the buffalo run of the Serengeti; every runner made to step forward, then jerked to a halt because the person in front hadn't been able to move for the person in front of them. Draco would have hexed his way through or shot a couple of Stinging Hexes to get people moving, but before he had left the flat he hadn't solved the problem of one wand, a Muggle marathon, and a skimpy pair of shorts. So with the false patience only achieved from his aristocratic upbringing, he waited for the hustle. Waving his hand at Harry and the others, he began his long run.
xxx
Harry watched Draco disappear out of sight in the bustle and Harry could only smile. Turning around to the others, he clapped his hand and said, "Alright, let's go. We've got to get to Tower Bridge and then to The Mall."
"Can't we just Apparate Harry?" whined Ron as he was hit over the head with the banner by the twins.
"What about my car?"
"Come back for it after the race." Ron was like Draco, a pureblood and though. He wasn't as blatant as Draco, but they both had the same distrust for all things Muggle. If the car didn't have an invisibility booster, then it was obviously a death trap.
"Alright, we'll Apparate, but where are we going to do it where Muggles won't see us?"
"On top of the bridge," said Hermione. Everyone looked at her like she had just told them she was quitting S.P.E.W. She rolled her eyes. "We can stand on one of the towers - no one will see us there." They all looked at each other.
xxx
"Ouch! Bloody hell Fred, get off me!" snapped Ron, kicking his brother off him.
Pop! "George!!! ARGH! My legs!"
"I'm not that heavy!"
"Please, shut up you three. Look, the racers are coming this way!"
"Get off my bloody legs!"
"Gosh, what a lovely view from here!"
"Like to see you park your car up here, Harry!"
"Out of my way, Weasel! Let me have a look."
"Charming, Zabini."
xxx
His skin felt like wallpaper. Sticky and thick, his own skin dragged him down, but all things considering, he felt pretty good. His left foot ached and he had swallowed a couple of bugs, but he was coming up to the twelve mile mark. Draco stepped his first step onto Tower Bridge with crowds cheering from the path.
He ignored the hand that had anonymously reached out from the spectators to pinch his bum as he moved closer to the railings to get to the water station. Never mind the horny fans, he needed water goddamnit! Snatching up a plastic cup that contained such a small amount of water in comparison to the Thames flowing under his feet, he took great gulps and wondered briefly what colour his pee would be at the end of the race.
Still jogging, Draco went to sip the last of the water from his cup, his head tilted back completely as his Adam's apple bobbed the droplets down his throat. As he was making supplication to the cup, he opened his eyes to the sky between the overhead walkways of the two towers. He saw a few whispy clouds, but none heavy enough to promise him a cool downpour while he ran. As he looked up at the suspended walkway between the two towers of the bridge, he gasped in surprise.
Peering over the edge of the upper walkway were three very distinctive red heads that could only belong to Weasleys. The big bushy brunette had to be Granger, and the two black heads must be Blaise and Harry. The blurry distanced figures waved at him and he smiled, feeling thoroughly superior to the rest of the runners. None of the other supporting fans were as high as his.
Dropping his eyes back down, he was surprised when he looked straight at someone's arse. Each cheek was divided by a leopard print thong and jiggling with each step, Draco was hypnotised. It seemed that the contestant in front of him had opted for minimal attire. Oh the horror…
Quickly overtaking the scantily clad sprinter, Draco dropped the plastic cup on the floor and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
xxx
His Twitchy Leg Syndrome was back. Annoyingly so. Every other step, his thigh would spasm and make his would leg involuntarily jig, making it awkward to settle his foot back onto the floor for the next step. He had just hit the twenty six mile mark and he was coming into The Mall, that silly pretentious Muggle palace that would be dwarfed by Malfoy Manor. It was looming up from the horizon.
Why couldn't the race finish at Tower Bridge instead? That way he would have plenty of water on hand to quench his sand dry mouth and he could dive into the Thames and no one would notice him peeing. Had he really just contemplated pissing in the Thames?! Eugh, I'm delirious!
He was so close. It felt like yearning. He could see the finish line, the yellow arch with the time meter ticking away the seconds in big block numbers. Though he was quite near the front, Draco felt the whole body of runners pick up their pace from the inattentive zombie shuffle to something that resembled jogging. They were out to win.
Trying to pump determination back into his unwilling bones, he also picked up his pace, dodging around a man dressed up as a nurse, and for once was too focused to toss the pansy a disparaging comment.
At the last hundred yards, Draco was disheartened to see people already crossing the finish line, but he started in a flat out run to keep his advantage against Mister my-uniform-reveals-too-much. His knees hurt and his muscles melted on the marrow as blood rushed to his ears. Each step was like walking on wood flooring after jumping on a trampoline for three hours. It felt too hard, and the soles of his feet were raw, and he couldn't breathe. He almost went into a panic attack when the sun spots started to blur his vision again, but then he rationalised that it was because he was looking up to the sky.
The whole year's accomplishment felt very anticlimactic as he finally put his foot over the finishing line, passing beneath the clock which proclaimed his finishing time of 2 hours, and 18 minutes, 56 seconds. Staggering across the line, he went to collapse on the ground, his steps coming to a shuddering arrest as he tried to stop his legs from their automated movements.
"DRACO!" Grappling around widely, breathing harshly through his nose, mouth and eyeballs, he spotted his familiar house colours a little way off by the railings.
"Sir! Sir! Stay behind the railings! SIR!"
Harry ran over, his arms eloping around Draco's waist, taking his whole dead weight as he finally gave out. "Hi," he said softly, pushing back the sweaty hair off Draco's face. Harry planted a kiss on his lips, but Draco could only keep the contact for a second before he had to pull away again to draw in beloved air. "I can't believe you came in twenty first!"
"T-t-tw…"BREATHE DAMNIT! "T-t-twenty…firs-s-st only?!"
"SIRS! SIRS! This area is for contestants ONLY!" Draco shuddered as ice cold water was poured over his head, making several young women beyond the railings scream.
"Slytherin wins!" cried the twins, each grabbing one of Draco's arms and holding it above his head, "Champion of the Muggles! WOO!" Both Harry and Draco laughed at the twins antics, then Harry turned his attention to his boyfriend.
Ana, the shop assistant, turned to Lauren, the gym secretary, and asked, puzzled, "What's a Muggle?"
"You are," stated Cheryl, watching as her ex-patient got snogged senseless, and cast a quick Tripping Hex in the direction of those bloody dancing ginger twins who were getting in the way of her view.
xxx
End-eth Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Everyone avoided looking at the end of the table, opting to talk to one another about an eventful day rather than look towards Draco, who was doing naughty things with his fried chicken leg at the end of the table. "Oh Merlin, I've missed you so much. Just wait till I get home! I'll order a whole bucket of you and eat you in bed…god, don't ever leave me again!"
Harry would have felt hurt by Draco's blatant affair with his fatty meal, but he was honestly too happy and proud of his boyfriend's accomplishment to do anything but smile till his cheeks hurt. Draco had managed to raise a good few grand for charity, had ran the whole twenty six miles much faster than Harry had predicted, and had worked himself into quite the sweaty, sexy little runner that Harry wanted to take home straight away and ravish. Instead they sat a restaurant in London, with Draco still sitting in those devilishly tight lycra shorts that Harry was currently feeling the contours of under the table.
"Draco, stop serenading your chicken. SPEECH!" yelled Fred, banging his knife and fork on the table in a state of petulance. George copied his brother and soon the whole table was demanding a speech, creating a noise that was likely to get them chucked out.
Draco didn't try to stand up because Harry's hand was doing a number on him, so he merely raised his pitcher of ice cold water that he had insisted upon when entering the establishment. "All I want to say," began Draco. The table hushed down, and everyone grabbed their glasses for the toast. "Is that that marathon…is a bloody long run. Thank you."
Everyone laughed and clashed their glasses together, taking swigs of alcohol in Draco's name.
"So," said Harry, turning in his seat slightly to look at Draco. Everyone else stopped to hear them interact, because they were nosy blighters. Running a hand over the encaged bulge under the table, he continued, "At least it's over now, eh Draco? No more diets, and jogs, and definitely no more personal instructors."
"Here, here!" yelled the twins. Everyone toasted to a calmer year ahead.
Draco didn't join in. He poured out a glass of water from the pitcher conveniently placed at his elbow and took a sip. Placing the glass back on the table, a little water ring appeared in the paper tablecloth as he looked up at everyone with a smirk on his face. "I think I'll try again next year."
Harry groaned.
xxx
End-eth the Epilogue and the whole bloody fic! Ta da!
Author's Note: So...That's the end. What did you all think? As you may have all realised, Draco has been Loved By All since the very beginning, making this whole marathon business and my fic completely redundant, lol! But someone's got to write about the completely pointless stuff, and it might as well be me for my first novel-ish length fic. Once I get another plot bunny, I am sure there will be the return of Crazy!Draco! Whether as a new story...or maybe...cough as a sequel...we'll never know. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the fic! Review if it pleases you! Bye! Neville for President, WOOOO!