Title: How Tom Felton and Daniel Radcliffe Discovered Drarry

Author: Reiko Katsura

Category: Real People Fiction

Pairing: Tom Felton/Daniel Radcliffe (also Harry/Draco… in a sense)

Genres: Drama, Flangst, Humor, Romance

Rating: NC-17 (for language and sexual content)

Word Count: ~13,850

Summary: In which Tom Felton and Daniel Radcliffe discover Harry/Draco fan fiction, Tom becomes obsessed, and Dan frets over the utter bizarreness of his life.

Disclaimer: I'm a filthy liar who lies, and no one should listen to me. Honestly. Everything you read following this disclaimer is total fiction. Don't believe a single word of it. It's all the mad fantasies of a delusional fan girl who has nothing better to do than think and write about two sexy strangers in getting it on.

A/N: All notes for this story is located in chapter 7. Please enjoy the fic.

PART ONE [1]

The first time Daniel stumbled upon fan fiction featuring Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in a romantic relationship—and what the bloody fuck was up with that?—he nearly died of humiliation. He quickly closed the tab to that particular page and a lot less sleepily continued on his quest to find foods that qualified under "dairy" products.

Let it be said that he never quite felt the same way whenever someone uttered the word "dairy", which was far too close-sounding to "Drarry" for his personal liking.

The second time Dan stumbled upon a Harry and Draco site he had the misfortune of having Tom leaning over his shoulder. The nosy bugger.

"Hold on—what's that?"

Dan groaned inwardly. "Nothing," he lied, and when he made to close that tab (who would have thought that so many Harry & Draco results would pop up on Google™ while looking for viewer reviews of the Half Blood Prince bathroom scene?) Tom shoved him over and stole his seat, making him topple to the floor.

"Oi!" Dan shouted. He scrambled to his feet and made an attempt to take his chair back, but Tom shushed him.

"Apparently," Tom said after a long period of silence, "you and I are a couple."

Dan stuffed his hands into the pocket of his jumper and rolled his eyes. "You and Iaren't a couple," he corrected. Tom's eyes were flashing over the screen, and Dan knew there was no point denying it now. "Harry and Draco are. Supposedly."

Tom shot him a quick unimpressed look and returned his gaze to the computer. "Same thing."

Dan scoffed. Eventually, after realizing Tom wasn't going to budge, he gave up and pulled the extra computer chair beside Tom's. Tom scooted over a bit so Dan could have better access to the screen, and continued browsing.

What they found was shocking. More—it was disturbing. There were stories—"fan fiction", they were apparently called—about Harry and Draco becoming best friends, or blood brothers, or, more appallingly (and this seemed to be the majority), even lovers.Dan honestly couldn't believe that some people actually spent time writing—and, they unfortunately discovered, drawing—such things.

"Can't these people get sued for this?" Dan asked. From the corner of his eye he could see Tom's head swivel towards him. "Copyright infringement and all that?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't think so. And look here," he pointed at a bit of text on the screen, "it says 'I do not own Harry Potter or its respective characters, plot, or settings. They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and her co. I make no money off this (unfortunately); it's merely for fun.' See? They've all got disclaimers above their stories."

"Surely Joanne doesn't condone this, though!" Harry argued, frowning.

Tom shrugged again. "There's no way she doesn't know about this, though. It would be hard not to, considering how much of this stuff is on the 'Net."

Dan grumbled, and when Tom continued to browse, he reluctantly joined in as well.

Fan fiction was weird, Dan thought nearly two weeks after he and Tom had discovered that 'fanfiction dot net' site. He couldn't believe what people came up with for the Harry Potter characters, or the extent of their apparent obsessions with them.

He himself didn't find it at all that interesting, but Tom apparently did. He'd discovered something called "The Sacrifices Arc" by Lightning on the Shore… (or something like that) and hadn't been able to stop talking about it since.

"Lily is a right bitch," Tom told him one day after they finished their work on the set. "I can't believe how gullible she is. And Dumbledore! God, I wanted to wring his manipulative little neck when I saw him today."

And Harry knew it was true. Poor Michael hadn't understood why Tom had been glaring at him so vehemently on the shoot that day, and he probably never would.

"You know that's a load of bollocks," Dan reminded him, impatiently. "It's just fiction—"

"Fanon," Tom interrupted him.

Dan paused. "What?"

"The fans call non-canon, or "unreal" Harry Potter facts, fanon."

Dan exhaled. "You're becoming obsessed with this, Tom. You keep on reading that garbage and you'll start messing up in your work."

Tom stuffed his digital book—which, Dan was sure, was probably stock full of that fan fiction crap—in his bag and crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. He sniffed. "That won't happen. You needn't worry. I'm a professional."

Dan wished he could blame fan fiction for Tom's tendency to act like Draco Malfoy at times, but he really couldn't. Instead, he settled for snorting.

"Well, Mr. Professional, why don't we go get something to eat. I'm starved."

At the prospect of food Tom brightened. "Fish and chips?"

"That stuff is going to kill you," Dan told him, not for the first time.

"No it won't."

"You'll get fat," he tried again.

Tom glared at him and patted his stomach. "I definitely won't."

"You'll be looking like Robbie, soon."

This time Tom positively scowled. "One more word about me getting fat out of you, Radcliffe, and I'll tell Emma what you and Rupert were talking about last night."

Dan gaped at him. "You wouldn't."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Try me."

After a moment or two of them standing there staring, Dan finally sighed.

"Fish and chips it is, then."

Tom smiled at him winningly.

They were sitting on Dan's sofa watching Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and munching on peanuts.

"I don't want to watch a Harry Potter movie," Dan had complained when Tom popped the DVD in, ignoring him and his protests that it was his house and therefore he should be the one to choose what to watch. "We're in it—it kind of takes the fun out a movie when you're made to memorize the thing and act it out hour after hour for months straight.

"Actually, I'm rarely in these movies." Tom didn't sound the least bit resentful about that—he liked playing Draco Malfoy, after all. "So it's not really that boring for me at all."

"Selfish." Dan knew he was whining.

Tom smirked. "Never stated otherwise."

Ten minutes into the movie and Dan remembered his real reason for hating to watch a Harry Potter movie—or any movie, for that matter—with Tom in the same room. Tom, as usual, commented throughout the entire thing.

"Really, Dan, couldn't you have acted that part out a bit more lively? I mean, you just discovered that Voldemort had tried to kill you, for crying out loud. You'd think a bloke would be a bit more devastated."

"I was twelve, Dan."

()

"It's a shame you cut your hair. The bowl-cut 'do was actually rather cute."

"It's a pity you haven't cut yours; you look like a girl."

()

"You're an idiot, Daniel. You should have been sorted into Slytherin. Didn't you hear the bloody Hat? He said you would have been great. Have you absolutely no ambition at all?"

"No. That's why Harry was sorted into Gryffindor."

()

"I never understood that part. Didn't Dumbles specifically say that children were notallowed near the Forbidden Forest? So why the bloody fuck would McGonagall even consider sending a bunch of first years—especially Harry Potter who any dark wizard would have been happy enough to kill—alone in the forest in the middle of the night with a dog to protect them?"

"She was obviously tired after being woken up so late. She most likely wasn't thinking straight."

"That's no excuse."

()

"Gryffindors. I would have never done that."

"That's why Ron is a better person than Draco is."

()

"You know, I will forever hate Dumbledore for tricking the Slytherins that way."

"We rid theschoolofVoldemort! Surely we deserve a few house points for that?"

"…"

"Alright. It was a bit messed up he did it that way."

"You think?"

True to his word, Tom never did make a mistake during a shooting, even with all the fan fiction he was reading. Eventually he even stopped shooting Michael glares. He'd moved on from The Sacrifices Arc—

("It was really rather brilliant, though the author needs to learn a thing or two about my character. You should definitely try to read it sometime."

"No thanks, mate.")

—and was currently reading…er, something else.

"These birds have some serious issues. I mean, honestly, you'd think they'd seen the movies at least one time in their life being the hardcore fans they claim to be."

"What are you talking about?" Dan asked, peeking at the white screen of Tom's laptop.

"This," Tom said, and gestured for Dan to move closer.

Dan did. He followed Tom's finger to where it underlined text in the middle of the screen and read aloud, 'Smiling, Harry hugged the smaller man—'"

"You see!" Tom snapped, scowling. "Where these lunatics got the misconception of me being 'smaller' when I'm clearly nearly a head taller than you—and let's not forget Draco's own 'tallness'—which, by the way, is a canon fact—I'll never know. But they justlove making Draco out to be this small, clingy, needy bottom all the time—"

"Bottom?" Dan cried, alarmed.

Tom stopped his rant and looked at Dan curiously. "Bottom," he repeated.

Dan's mouth opened, then closed, then opened, then closed. The process lasted an entire minute before he was able to choke his next words out.

"What do you mean by bottom?"

The look Tom gave him was as if he was being daft. "What do you think I mean by it?Bottom. You know, the receiver in sex, the one who takes it up the arse, the pillow biter, the—oomph!"

Dan clamped his hand over his mouth to shut him up. Getting the drift, Tom grudgingly did.

"I can't believe you're reading those—those things!" he accused him.

Tom quirked his brow. "Daniel, you knew perfectly well what I've been reading. It's not like I've kept it a secret from you."

Dan spluttered. "I thought you were reading regular fan fiction! Like the ones we saw about Harry and Draco being friends, or blood brothers, or… or…"

He stopped when Tom started to laugh.

"Mate, you must be the slowest person I've ever met. What do you think I meant when I told you about the fic I was reading where Draco was Harry's 'sorely missed' person down in the lake?"

"I thought they were just close friends!" Dan argued.

Tom snorted in obvious amusement. "If they'd been 'just close friends' don't you think Ron would have been better suited for that slot? Or Hermione?"

"But—"

"And what about that fic I told you about where Harry lost a bet to Draco and had to be spanked ten times by him?"

Dan gawked. "I thought Draco was just being a git! I didn't think that they'd…"

"Honestly, did you really think Harry and Draco would become friends, or brothers, after Draco bent Harry over his knees and spanked his arse with his bare hand?"

Dan spluttered.

Tom smiled. "Your innocence is really rather endearing, Daniel."

That snapped him out of it. "I want you to stop reading that rubbage, Tom." He demanded.

Tom gave him a simple stare. "Not on your life."

Dan wanted nothing more than to throttle his pale neck. "But why?" he whined. "Surely you don't find that crap interesting? Or… or…" hot. He couldn't say it.

"Or?" Tom prompted, grinning.

Dan tried to fight back the blush, he really did. He failed miserably.

"Shut up." he snapped, face hot.

Tom's voice was mirthful as he said, "As fun as this has been, I really need to be getting home now. Lunch tomorrow?"

If Dan hadn't been so used to Tom by now he probably wouldn't have recognized the vaguely noticeable hints of uncertainty that edged his words. Despite his current upset with him, he didn't want him thinking their relationship was ruined because Tom became all weird. Or turned into a pou—

Dan stopped that thought right there.

He grumbled under his breath but nevertheless nodded, returning Tom's smile with a small one of his one, and walked him to the door. As soon as he left and Dan locked it behind him, he thumped his head onto the polished wood and groaned, and wondered how his life had taken on such a bizarre turn.

He blamed Joanne for it, entirely.

Now that Dan knew that Tom was indeed reading homoerotic stories of their two characters together—and it still made him shudder when he thought about it—he caught the subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, meanings behind every fan fic related thing Tom said… which was rather a lot.

"Pareseltongue's a pretty interesting talent, don't you think? I wonder what other kind of snakes Harry could command with that tongue of his."

"As if anyone with even a shred of taste would pick a gold-digging ginger over an established blond. Morons."

"This one says that Harry has big feet. Huh."

"Sorry, ladies, but I'm actually pretty versatile."

"Talented at polishing broomsticks, aren't you, Potter?"

"Would you say Lions are incredibly passionate animals?"

"You know what they say about fine lines…"

A month later and Dan was ready to murder Tom. Maybe Harry couldn't muster up enough hate (or, in Tom's case, annoyance) to cast Crucio properly, but Dan was beginning to think that he would be fully capable of it.

Filming was over for the remainder of the month, giving them nearly two and a half weeks to relax and unwind. Dan had planned to stay over Tom's house for at least a week, but the bastard had turned him down. When Dan has asked him why, he had simply stated that he'd "discovered Lomonaaeren". Dan didn't know what that meant, but he was sure it was another one of those fan fic things.

After six days of being completely unable to get into contact with Tom, Dan decided that enough was enough and, as friends usually did under such dire circumstances, came over uninvited.

"You didn't tell me you were coming over today," Tom grumbled when he opened the door to Dan. Dan snorted and moved inside, not bothering to ask to be let in.

"I would have if you'd returned any of my calls."

At least, Dan thought as he removed his coat and hung it on the rack, Tom had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"I told you why I was busy," Tom argued, following Dan into the sitting room.

"No, you didn't. You told me you discovered something fan fiction related and couldn't, apparently, be arsed to put it down to spend time with someone who had thought he was your best mate."

Tom's expression soured. Guilt, Dan knew. He smiled inwardly.

Tom ran his fingers through his hair (Dan wondered when he was going to cut it) and sighed.

"Sorry," he said, eventually.

Dan grinned cheekily. "That's alright. I'm used to your prattishness by now."

They moved to Tom's room and ordered pizza from a nearby parlor. For a while they chatted about any gossip they'd heard (which, surprisingly, wasn't much) and plans for Rupert's upcoming birthday. Draco popped in the first episode of the series Merlin into the player—

("Did you know Arthur and Merlin are considered the Harry and Draco of the Arthurian legend? Their fanbase is pretty wicked, though nothing compared to ours."

Dan took offense at the implicating "ours" and good-naturedly shoved Tom off the bed.)

—and they settled down on his bed to watch it.

Thirty minutes into the show the doorbell sounded and Tom left to pick up the pizza. Dan turned away from the telly—the show wasn't nearly as interesting as Tom had made it out to be—and glanced around the room.

Tom's bedroom was as messy as always. Papers were littered everywhere, and clothes draped over every piece of furniture in the room. Tom was a lot more technology-inclined than Dan was, so appliances and gadgets lined the walls of nearly every inch of the room. Because Tom was a bit of a ponce he had two closets full of clothes and shoes, and a shelf stocked with books situated in between.

His walls were a pale green, almost blue, and his floor was veneered with grayish-black black tiles that Dan had never really seen anywhere else. There were empty candy wrappers scattered everywhere.

Shaking his head, Dan leaned forward and grabbed the nearest thing to him: Tom's digital book. He slouched against the frame of the bed, crossed his legs, and turned the skinny thing on.

As he expected, the page that appeared as soon as the device went on was about Harry Potter.

He's obsessed, Daniel thought as he began to read. He needs help.

Dan was still reading when Tom came back in carrying a large pie of pizza ten minutes later.

TBC.