Author's Note: Ha ha! I've updated once again. I'm going to tell you truth about this chapter. It could have been out sooner - like last week, probably - but I got sidetracked. But, here it is finally! Enjoy.
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Chapter 26: A Day of Rest and A night of Pleasure
When Harry was released from the hospital wing the next day, he made sure to reassure his friends and housemates that he was okay. He had been asked numerous times during his attendance at breakfast if he was okay, not only by Gryffindors, but Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well. He reassured them all, as calmly as possible, that he was indeed fine. He ate his breakfast like normal, ignored the worried looks and the drivel the Prophet had produced. It wasn't important anyway, not when he knew a bit more than those vultures did.
After breakfast Harry tired to decide what to do next. This Saturday was supposed to be a Hogsmeade weekend, but it had been cancelled in lieu of the attacks yesterday. He knew he wanted to talk to Draco; at least, he just had to find a way to slip away from his friends so he could. That would be hard with them hovering around him so insistently. It was a bit annoying, really. You play a game of Quidditch, out-fly some Dementors and knock out some trolls, and then win said game; aren't you allowed to be left alone or something?
Obviously not, Harry thought with irritation, forcing a smile for Hermione and Ron, who were giving him frequently worried looks. He knew he probably looked bad – he felt bad, truthfully – but he didn't want the continuous looks he kept receiving. Finally, though, he reached his limit and stood from his seat. He felt suffocated and trapped in a way that was all too familiar with this overly expressed amount of sympathy.
"Guys, I'm going to go for a walk – alone," he added, as he saw Hermione open her mouth. She shut it and frowned.
"Harry, it might not be a good idea to go alone," she said worriedly. "Even if the attack was expressly directed at you yesterday, there's still a chance Voldemort will attack again." Harry rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.
"Hermione, I'm not going to let it restrict me. Besides that, I need time alone to think. You're kind of smothering me. Both of you," Harry said with a glance at Ron, not able to hold back the annoyance in his tone.
Ron looked at him. "Maybe she's right might. We don't if he'll attack again or not," the redhead said.
"Don't you think it wise to have someone with you just in case?" Hermione implored.
Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He didn't want to argue with her or Ron and figured he could slip away later to talk to Draco. It wasn't a dire need, or anything, he just had a few things to discuss with the blond. "Fine," Harry snapped, beginning to walk towards the portrait hole. He heard shuffle behind him, but didn't turn to look, guessing that Ron and Hermione were following. He didn't care. Sod them, he thought resentfully, sod them both. He could protect himself and didn't much care for the implication otherwise, though he knew that wasn't true. There was always the kind of situations that required that extra help and having it could always be a plus. Still. He ignored Hermione and Ron's attempts at conversation and continued to walk on determinedly.
Hermione went quiet after a while, as did Ron, and an awkward silence fell between the three. The group made their way out to the court yard and Harry took up residence under one of the trees that dominated the large area. Ron and Hermione took sears as well and Harry leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree.
Despite what he kept telling everyone about feeling fine, he didn't feel completely that way. He hadn't slept well last night; too stressed, too accosted by nightmares. He was edgy and snappy and just in a generally foul mood. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't made more of an effort to seek out Draco; he may have said something too harsh, and then he would feel guilty about it. He needed to cool down first and relax a bit, which was why he had wanted to be alone. He needed time to think and just let go for a moment. Besides feeling edgy his arms itched something fierce. Not for a blade, specifically, but for something. He scratched at his right arm through the sleeve of his shirt, closing his eyes. He had the feeling things were about to get extremely hard for him – had since late last night – and that was also making him anxious. His gut feelings had an uncanny ability to be right too often for his comfort.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice spoke, breaking the silence. Harry sighed.
"Yes?" he enquired evenly.
"What do you think is going to happen now? I mean with Voldemort having regained his followers and everything. He had been pretty quiet so far. Do you think this is the start of it?" she asked quietly. Harry thought about that, but had to disagree. He believed 'it' never really stopped. Voldemort had just been biding his time as he planned and plotted on ways of getting his body back. Fourth year would be when it really started, if a person wanted a more concrete answer. It was when Voldemort had succeeded in coming back – really coming back. He was whole with his own body and everything. He was tangible, and even more dangerous for being so. Harry was mildly surprised at his friend's question. He tilted his head back up and looked at the Ron and Hermione, both of whom sat to his left.
"No," Harry said at last, shaking his head. "I don't believe it ever really stopped. From what I understand, Voldemort had lain in wait for years working out ways to 'resurrect' himself, you could say." Harry paused, and then brushed his fringe from his eyes. "This? This is the start of a new chapter. As to what will happen now? I don't know, but I can assure you that Voldemort isn't going to be quiet any longer. He'll have plans and such." Harry said quietly, grimly. He looked across the courtyard, not seeing anything before him. Each year so far had been a new chapter in the journey of Voldemort resurrecting himself.
This current attack was Voldemort replenishing his forces, though Harry doubted he hadn't been recruiting. This was the start of something bigger, but it wasn't the start of it all, by any means.
"So You-Know-Who is going to start attacking more now," Ron said.
"Voldemort," Harry corrected absently, and then blinked and looked back to his friends. "And most likely, I'd say, especially with him regaining those that had been sent to Azkaban. He's happy and what better way for a sadistic bastard like him to celebrate than by killing a few dozen people?" Harry said cynically, shrugging off their looks. If he was Voldemort he would probably do just that. He shook his head and firmly pushed that thought from his mind.
"Hmm," Hermione hummed thoughtfully. "I don't know. Maybe he'll pull back for awhile and let his recently freed followers recuperate a bit before attacking again," she sounded doubtful of her own suggestion, though.
Harry looked back out over the courtyard and narrowed his eyes. Then, he snorted. "He could do that, pooling all his power and sources – readying them, you know – and then strike. Or, he could strike with his capable Death Eaters now and let the other recuperate. If he cared enough to do so, that is," Harry said. "Then again, he could do neither and completely surprise us."
"All we can do is wait and see," Ron said grimly, scowling at nothing in particular. Harry nodded, but didn't say anything. It was the truth, really. All they could do was sit and wait to see what would happen.
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It was hard to believe that the now empty Quidditch field was overrun by Dementors and trolls the day before. It was hard to believe that yesterday his father had been freed from his imprisonment, but Draco was no longer in denial about that. He was now thinking about other things. Gazing out over the pitch, Draco wondered, not for the first time, why things were going this way for him. He had the feeling that even if he had chosen to still join the Death Eaters that life wouldn't have been easier. Draco sighed and resisted the urge to rub a hand over his face, not wanting to draw the attention of the others.
He, Blaise, Greg and Vince were sitting in the Slytherin section of the Quidditch stands, having come out after breakfast since the visit to Hogsmeade had been cancelled. A little ways from his small group sat Pansy and three Slytherin girls, chattering away annoyingly. They had followed them out there after hearing Draco say where they were heading. It irked him that Pansy had followed him, but there wasn't much he could say. Fortunately, she and her group had taken up residence down a ways from them and Draco only caught their conversation vaguely.
The students were still in a state and the Prophet over dramatized article wasn't helping. It talked about the other places that were attacked along with the casualties, plus what was known of the prison breakout. Draco was sure some of what was written was sorely exaggerated. While who escaped hadn't been mentioned – the Ministry hasn't calculated the full scope on those who have escaped, the Prophet had said – it painted the picture of the potential danger vividly. And it definitely did its job of striking a chord among people.
But this wasn't what was really important to Draco; not at this moment at any rate. He was thinking back to last night and his meeting with Dumbledore. After a few options were presented to him, he had been given time to consider what he wanted to do. Both Severus and Dumbledore had instructed him to think thoroughly and carefully about his decision. And Draco intended to do just that.
"You've been awfully quiet today, Draco," Pansy's voice broke the comfortable silence. Draco held himself from rolling his eyes at the curious tone.
"I realize you have a hard time shutting your mouth, Pansy, but some of us like to have silence while we think. Something you'd know about if you took the chance to do it," Draco drawled sarcastically. Snickers erupted around him, but Draco merely smirked at the indignant look on the girl's face.
"I was only asking because you seemed to have a lot on your mind," Pansy snapped, her nose in the air. Draco did roll his eyes this time.
"Well, then, why not leave me alone?" Draco asked pointedly.
Pansy sniffed, and then looked at him. "What were you thinking about?" she asked. Draco growled lowly. Couldn't she take the hint that he wanted silence? His friends had easily seen this and adjusted accordingly, but Pansy Parkinson? Hell no, she had to pester and prod until he snapped.
"What do you think? Not that it's any of your business," Draco sneered, giving her a dismissive glance. Pansy made a noise in her throat and Draco thought – idiotically – that she would shut up.
"About your father?" she questioned, voice pitched low even though their two groups were the only one's around. "Don't worry, Draco," she said, in a tone he thought was meant to be reassuring and sexy. It made his skin crawl. Her voice was low and drawling, holding the hint of a tease in it. "Potter will get what's coming to him, just you wait and see."
Draco snorted and tossed his head back, an arrogant smirk crossing his face. "I have no doubt of that, Pansy. Do you honestly believe my father will let something like this go so easily? Potter was part of the reason he went to Azkaban in the first place. Really, Pansy; don't state the obvious," he said haughtily, as if the very suggestion otherwise was ludicrous. Inside, Draco was thinking about how much the girl – and his friends, if he thought about it – really needed to grow up. They didn't even know what was in store for them with this coming war, or if they became Death Eaters. Draco, himself, only knew a bit more than them, but what he knew gave him a bit more insight. He had seen from his father's own memories what a Death Eater was expected do; things that made him feel sick and disturbed. He couldn't imagine going those things, not even to muggles and 'mudbloods'. He wanted to choose the best option that would keep him alive, but one that he could deal with best without losing anymore sanity.
Draco sighed quietly and turned to gaze out over the pitch, dismissing Pansy and ignoring her huff of irritation. "Well," he drawled, rising from his seat. "I've got some things to do, so I'm going to head in. I'll see you later," he said, focusing the words towards Blaise, Greg and Vince pointedly. He began to make his way down.
"Where are you going, Draco?" Blaise called out curiously.
"I've got some work I put off doing that I need to do," he replied simply, not stopping his progress. He did have work to do, but he wanted to be by himself for a bit also. He wanted to talk to Harry, too, but knew it would have to wait until he had securely appeased his vast fan club that he was okay. He had seen the commotion the Gryffindor had received upon entering the Great Hall that morning and knew Harry would be tied with reassuring the masses. Besides, Draco just wanted to yell at him for rushing off like that yesterday during the game when the Dementors – and then the trolls – came.
He made it to his room without trouble, where he got settled on his bed, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. He sighed, staring up at the canopy, but not really seeing it. Truth was he had more concern about his decision than he previously acknowledged. He had friends in Slytherin – as much as the other houses thought otherwise on the matter. Slytherins did tend to make friends just like everybody else; those friends just came with the added bonus of being advantageous to you when you needed them to be, especially if they loyal to you. And – even if he hadn't spent much time with them that year – Blaise, Greg and Vince were those friends for him, unbelievable as it was.
He wondered how his decision would affect his friendships, his status and stature and his life in general. Would the actions of the father forever follow the son, just as those of the ancestors? Most likely, but Draco had always wanted to prove he was better. Better than others in general, better than Harry Potter and better, even, than his own father. You could only be compared to someone so much before bitterness starts to set in. it wasn't out of some urge to prove he was good, deep down, though. It was the ambition to prove he was capable of being a mature, competent person independent of his father and all those stereotypes people labeled him with. How would his decision affect all of that?
Draco sighed heavily and turned onto his stomach, pillowing his head with his arms again. There were more factors to this situation that he had considered originally and he hadn't realized the full scale of things until his meeting with Dumbledore and Severus. He wondered how he could have made the decision not to join the Death Eaters, and, yet, not think about all the consequences and factors. Then again, he was always a lot more impulsive than any Slytherin had any right to be.
Draco snorted to himself at that, remembering several comments from his father about his impulsive streak. He had been the same as a child, even though his father had tried to teach him differently. Even as a child his fathers had strived to make him what he wanted him – Draco – to be. And while he had learned most of those lessons, the impulsiveness never quite faded. No wonder so many of his schemes had failed when he was younger.
But now he needed to think. Impulsiveness couldn't rule this decision one bit. Draco just wished someone could make the decision for him; not that he wanted someone controlling his life, as such, but he had never expected to have to make such hard decisions while still young. Of course, before now, he had blindly followed his father's 'guidance' and allowed the man to plan his life, or, more accurately, he didn't do anything to stop him. He would be the one making decisions now, though, and he didn't plan to make the wrong one.
His life depended on it.
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It wasn't until Sunday evening that Harry and Draco finally got together. After slipping the blond a note, Harry had received a reply stating that Draco wanted to see him too. They had decided to meet in a different place, though, as Draco would just be getting off prefect duty. So Harry went ahead and set up the Room of Requirement – something comfortable and relaxing for them. Harry was standing outside the door, waiting for Draco to show up, hidden underneath his invisibility cloak. He was leaning against the wall, knowing Draco would probably be there soon.
The last two days had been filled with talk of the attack and what it could all mean. Even the Prophet was publishing all sorts of articles with the most recent attack. Along with the articles there was much speculation going on about what would happen next. It was causing a lot of added anxiety to the students, who had been giving him odd looks for the past two days that had begun to annoy him. He had to use a lot of self-restraint to keep from snapping at people, because along with all that he was beginning to suffer from his nightmares again. They hadn't affected him in at least two months and he was a bit agitated with the renewed lack of sleep.
Harry shook his head and sighed softly, banishing the thought of his nightmares from his head. He didn't want to think about them right now. He glanced up the hall and felt relief flow through him when he saw the shock of blond hair turning the corner. He removed his head from the cloak as Draco approached and gave the slightly startled blond a tight smile.
"I wish you wouldn't do that. It's creepy," Draco complained quirking an eyebrow at Harry when he simply titled his head towards the door beside him and walked in after opening it. Draco rolled his eyes and followed, shutting the door behind him. "What with the silent, mysterious act, Potter?"
Harry sat on the big, comfortable looking couch, relaxing back into the soft cushions and tilting his head back with a sigh. Draco smiled wryly and stretched himself out on the couch with his head in Harry's lap. Harry looked down at the blond, who looked back, smiling slyly. Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't tell Draco to move. "Nothing much," Harry said, finally answering Draco's question. "I'm just a bit off-center, you could say."
Draco nodded against Harry's thigh. "The attack at the Quidditch game?" Draco guessed.
"Among other things," Harry said, unconsciously slipping his fingers into Draco's hair and stroking them through the silky blond hair. Draco was only vaguely surprised by the action, but it was relaxing so he didn't say anything. "I found out some things the night of the night. First off; why did you never tell me that Snape was your godfather?"
Draco felt shock course through him at the question that was almost an accusation. He breathed out slowly and rolled his eyes at the other boy. He hadn't really thought much to say anything about it, but when he did Draco always kept in mind the hostility between Severus and Harry. "I knew how you felt about Severus, Harry. Besides that, I didn't think it was important. Would it have really matter any if I told you before?" Draco asked, looking up at Harry and quirking an eyebrow.
Harry raised his other hand to rub his face, briefly stopping Draco's petting. He pursed his lips, and then sighed. "I might have thought you had ulterior motives – well, more than I was already thinking anyway. I would have been suspicious if you were telling my secrets to Snape – which I am, by the way. Other than that; no, it probably wouldn't have mattered past that, but I would have been more cautious with what I told you," Harry said, resuming the petting when the blond leaned his head back into Harry's lax hand.
Draco closed his eyes, enjoying the fingers that combed through his hair. "Would it make things better if I told you that Severus doesn't even know we're on good terms, let alone, ah, dating?" Draco asked, sounding a bit unsure. They hadn't actually classified what was happening between them.
Harry gave Draco's hip a squeeze in acknowledgement, but didn't say anything otherwise on the subject. "Yes, it would, because I would hate to have to kick your ass because you told Snape my secrets," Harry said lightly. Draco chuckled, feeling the gathered tension begin to ease again.
"Whatever you say, Potter," Draco said. He knew that when it came to telling his godfather about everything, that it wouldn't be an easy conversation and he wasn't looking forward to it.
"I also had a visit from Dumbledore that night. I think he may know – or, at least have a vague idea – that we aren't enemies anymore," Harry continued. He explained the conversation to Draco, who nodded with a slightly annoyed look.
"Bloody old man," Draco muttered. In a louder voice, he said, "Yeah, it sounds like he might know." Draco debated on whether to tell Harry about his meeting with Dumbledore or not. He saw no reason not to, as he already knew there had been a meeting. Harry just didn't know what it had been about. Besides that, Harry would find out anyways, sooner or later, and Draco rather it is from him that Harry found out. Draco explained about how he went to Severus not long after the game. He told Harry about the talk they had without much detail, which led him to talking about his Easter break and the mission he was assigned. When he felt Harry tense up, he turned to look at the other boy to see him giving him a somewhat suspicious look. Sitting up, Draco gave Harry an irritated look, suppressing the flare of hurt he had felt at the look.
"If I had really wanted to go through with that mission, do you think I would have told Severus, Dumbledore or you, Potter?" Draco snapped.
Harry looked at him for a long moment in which Draco seriously considered hitting him. Hadn't he proven himself trustworthy yet? Obviously, Draco thought, looking at Harry still, he still expects me to betray him. And that hurt more that Draco was willing to admit. He had wanted Harry Potter's friendship since day one, but that hadn't happened. Then, after years of animosity, he found out Harry wasn't all he thought the boy was and they finally became friends, and then something more lately. Even if he wouldn't ever admit it to anyone and would firmly deny it to himself; Draco didn't want to lose what he had finally gained.
Finally, Harry sighed and gave Draco a small smile. "I guess you wouldn't have if you had planned on going through with it," Harry said. Draco continued to glare and Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.
Draco smirked in satisfaction and put his head back in Harry's lap. "You're forgiven," he said, tone smug. "You may continue," Draco drawled imperiously, running a hand over his head for emphasis. Harry snorted, but resumed his early activity. Silence reigned for long moments, before Draco continued on, telling Harry about him and Severus going to Dumbledore and what transpired from the meeting.
"So I've got time to make a decision, but it has to be before the end of the school year," Draco finished, opening his eyes that he had closed. Harry was silent, absorbing all he had been told. He breathed out slowly to gather his thoughts.
"Will you tell me your decision when you've finally made it?" Harry asked, surprised at what came out his mouth a bit. He thought he would have been giving Draco not-so-subtle suggestions on what to choose, not asking to know once the blond made his choice.
Draco, too, was surprised at what Harry said. With a small smile, Draco said, "Yeah I'll tell you what I decide." Privately, Draco thought, you'll be the first to know if I can help it.
There was another silence in which Harry continued to pet Draco and Draco continued to relax against Harry's thigh. Then, Harry chuckled throatily. "Well, Snape won't like this one bit – our friendship or our dating each other. I can't wait to see his face, though, your godfather or not, Draco," Harry said, laughing a bit harder. Draco could feel the vibrations as Harry laughed and couldn't help laughing along with him.
"I'm sure Severus will be furious and will likely rant, but you're right. I can't wait to see his face!" the two had a good bout of shared mirth over that. After calming a down a bit, Harry tugged on Draco's hair lightly and the blond looked up at him. Harry leaned down and kissed Draco, softly at first, but soon the kiss turned into something more passionate and heavy. Draco slid a hand up Harry's neck and gently gripped the hair at the nape of his neck; even as he opened his mouth under Harry's probing tongue. They stayed like this, kissing enthusiastically, until air became a necessity. They pulled apart, both breathing heavily with dark, swollen lips. Draco took this break to sit up and maneuver himself so he was straddling Harry's thighs. Without preamble, Draco dove back into the kiss and the two boys' slid their arms around each other.
Harry's arms tightened around Draco's waist, pulling the blond closer. Two loud groans split the silence as their hard erections rubbed together with delicious friction. The kiss deepened with the action; tongues probing deeper and teeth nipping at tender flesh as they began to rock lightly against each other. Harry slid his hands from Draco's back where they had been idly caressing, down, and cupped Draco's ass in each palm, jerking the blond's hips down against his.
Draco clamped Harry's bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently as he ground down. "Harry," Draco rasped out, and then moaned as Harry latched onto his throat with teeth and lips. A harsh bite was soothed by a tongue gently bathing the area. Harry gave Draco's a neck a firm suck, before pulling back and scattering licks and kisses on the pale throat.
"What do you want, Draco?" Harry murmured, delivering a sharp nip to the underside of Draco's jaw.
Draco took a shuddering breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He knew what he wanted – in an embarrassingly bad way – and was wondering if he should breach the subject or not. He was nervous and he didn't understand why. He'd had sex before; Draco was very much aware of what was involved in the act, so why was he nervous? It couldn't have anything to do with Harry, could it? Draco mentally shook the thought away as Harry placed another nip on his throat. "I want you to fuck me," Draco said, more breathily than he would have preferred.
Harry tensed at the words, abruptly ceasing his ministrations to Draco's throat, even as the words went straight to his groin. Did he really hear the Slytherin right? He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and pulled back to look at Draco's face. He felt anxious, even though he had thought – and dreamed – about doing such with the blond. "Are you sure?" Harry asked, somewhat shakily.
Draco groaned down, and then smirked at Harry. "Yes," he answered simply. Harry's breath hitched, both at the action and words, involuntarily thrusting up and squeezing Draco's buttocks in his hands. Harry finally nodded jerkily, even as he realized why he was nervous. He'd never had sex with another man before – though, he has thought about it – and it had him more anxious then ever. He'd done other things, but full out sex wasn't one of those. Would he be any good?
"I've never done this! With a guy, I mean," Harry blurted out, feeling ridiculously embarrassed. Draco smiled that small smile that crossed his face sometimes when he was with Harry, even as he pressed a kiss to his jaw.
"I have and I'll talk you through it. Now, shut up and kiss me," Draco demanded, pressing his lips to Harry's.
Harry chuckled a bit shakily, but it soon faded and he was kissing Draco back. He was still nervous, but excitement was beginning to work its way through him at the thought of what they were about to do. As they kissed, Harry moved his hands to take off Draco's shirt, running them from his ass up and under the pull over shirt he was wearing. He caressed up a hard torso and firm flanks, inching the shirt up in the process.
Draco pulled back and helped tug off his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the side without a backwards glance. Looking at Harry, Draco put his hands of the other's shoulders, squeezed lightly, and then dragged them down the shirt covered chest and stomach. When he reached the hem he clutched it and began tugging it up, eager to see Harry's tanned body again. Harry let out a breathy chuckle, lifting his arms to help in Draco's mission. His shirt, too, was tossed aside carelessly. Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry again, taking his chance to caress the bare chest and stomach freely.
Harry slid a hand up Draco's back, feeling the bones of his spines under his finger tips. He folded his hand around Draco's neck and pulled the blond in closer, deepening the kiss. He moaned as Draco undulated his hips, grinding down against him, and he reflexively clutched Draco's ass that still rested in one palm.
Draco was breathing heavily, his lips red and swollen and parted slightly as he sucked in breaths rapidly. His arms were locked around Harry's neck; fingers weaved into the hair at the nape. He bent his head and nipped at Harry's ear. "Take it off," he breathed into his ear, before sucking on the lobe. Harry pulled back reluctantly and looked at Draco curiously. "The glamour," Draco said quietly, pulling back to look Harry in the eye. "Take the glamour off, Harry."
Harry's eyes widened at the request, and then narrowed with a calculating gleam that many never saw. "If you remove yours," Harry said resolutely. Draco shook his head and smirked.
"Slytherin," Draco hissed teasingly, causing Harry to chuckle. Slowly, his mirth died and he looked at the blond intently for a long moment, before reaching for his wand on a side table. He pointed it at himself and cancelled the glamour, exposing all the cuts and scars on his arms and upper body. He let out a sigh.
Draco looked him over, taking in everything, looking at some things longer than others. He traced a thumb over the lighting bolt shaped scar on his bicep and gave him a questioningly quirked eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Taking hold of his own wand, he removed the glamour calmly. "Its part of us," Draco said simply; and that simple statement touched a chord in Harry that he couldn't name. He pulled Draco into a fierce kiss, swallowing the gasp the blond made. Draco kissed back just as fiercely, digging his fingers into Harry's shoulders. Trailing his fingers down Harry's shoulders and chest, Draco grazed over flat nipples, pinching them into small nubs. Harry gasped and arched into the touch, suddenly realizing it wasn't enough. He needed more; more skin, more touch, more everything. Harry moved his hand to trail along the top of Draco's pants, before moving them around to unbutton and unzip them.
This would probably work even better with a bed, Harry thought hazily, pulling back to work on getting Draco Malfoy out of his pants.
"Well, that's interesting," Draco drawled. Harry looked up at him as the blond rose to his feet and began removing his pants and underwear and shoes.
"What is?" Harry asked, distracted by the smooth, pale planes of Draco's body.
"That bed that appeared from no where, right over there," Draco replied, pointing in some direction behind Harry. He was now completely naked and Harry appreciated the sight very much, but he was sidetracked by the comment. He looked behind him and was only slightly surprised to see a four poster bed with blue bed cloths.
"The joys of the Room of Requirement," Harry said wryly, reaching out and tugging Draco to him by the hips. "It provides whatever you want. Obviously." Harry ran his tongue over Draco's chest, curiously flicking a nipple and causing Draco to arch and moan deliciously. He nipped gently at the small nub and Draco slid his hand into his hair, cursing harshly.
"Fuck! Do that again, Harry. And when you say 'whatever' do you mean anything a person wants?" Draco asked.
"I suppose so, but I'm not completely sure," Harry mumbled as he tongued Draco's navel. He moved his hands down and cupped Draco's bare ass.
"Mmm, you know the basics, right?" Draco asked rhetorically, sliding his fingers into black hair and leaning into Harry's ministrations. Harry nodded absently as he moved down and dragged his tongue over the head of Draco's cock. "Right; how about we move to the bed," Draco suggested in a strangled voice, thrusting forward lightly. Harry nodded and released the blond, who back up and began heading for the bed while Harry rose from the couch, rubbing at his hard cock through the jeans he still wore. "Take off the pants, then, and get over," Draco demanded impatiently.
Harry chuckled, feeling a bit of nervousness resurface, but not as much as before. He toed off his trainers, and then began on his jeans. He finally pulled off his pants, and then his boxers, before making his way over towards the bed. "You're an impatient little thing, aren't you?" Harry asked, amused.
Draco made a noncommittal noise in his throat and pulled Harry towards him, kissing him hard. "So, how do I get something I want from the room?"
Harry balanced himself on his hand and knees above the Slytherin, circling his free hand around the base of Draco's shaft and stroking slowly. The angle was slightly awkward, but Harry managed. "Think about what you want," Harry breathed into his ear, licking the shell. "It should appear. Be specific."
Draco snorted, but closed his eyes and concentrated. He opened his eyes when he felt a sudden weight in his hand. He looked to see a big tube resting in his palm. Well, then. Draco gasped when Harry squeezed the base of his cock, even as he suckled a nipple and rolled it with his tongue. "Here," Draco ground out, wanting to get to the good part. Not that what Harry was doing wasn't, but Draco was eager to further the proceedings.
Harry looked up to Draco's face, and then to the hand that the blond had lifted. Harry took the tube, trying to suppress his anxiety. He knew what was about to come – not pun intended. While he had been given hands-on teaching of how to give a blow job, he had only been given the explanation of how sex worked between two men. He had been a bit disturbed by the idea at first, but it had slowly grown on him, helped along by dreams and time spent along with his hands. "Right then," he said, and then cleared his throat, embarrassed, when it came out as a croak. "Right," he said more evenly.
Draco lifted his head and looked at Harry, amused. "Don't worry," he said, seeing the look in Harry's eyes. "Think of this like riding a broom," and he grimaced at his choice of words, but continued nonetheless. "only reversed in positions. You were a natural at that – and don't you ever repeat that or I'll gut you alive – so take it all a step at a time."
Harry stilled and looked at Draco for a moment, before bursting into laughter. "That was a horrible description! But it did make me less nervous," Harry said between chuckles, leaning down and taking Draco's bottom lip between his teeth, before moving to kiss him. He pulled back after thoroughly invaded the blond's mouth and sat back on his shins, looking down at Draco and opening the tube of lubrication. He squirted some into his hand, adding a bit more at Draco's instructions. Spreading the cool substance on his fingers, he warmed it slightly, before looking back at Draco.
(Look on one of the accounts in my profile - Not hexfiles, because I haven't updated that in awhile, because I need a beta. Any other site there you can look for the deleted scene if you want to read it.)
Harry shuddered and collapsed onto Draco, sated and exhausted. Draco seemed to be in a similar state as his legs fell limply from Harry's waist. They were both panting heavily.
Draco could feel minute tremors racking his body as he slowly cam back from his sexual high. That had been intense. Harry had hit his prostate enough times to make the experience great. Slowly, his heart ceased its rapid beating and his breathing came under a steadier pace. He shifted and decided to rouse Harry, as the boy's body was finally beginning to feel heavy to him. "Harry, move it, you're getting heavy," Draco said.
Harry let out a weak chuckle at that, but rose and pulled himself from Draco. "Sorry," he muttered, flopping back down on his stomach next to the blond. He had his head turned so he could look at Draco. "You alright?"
"I'm bloody amazing," Draco quipped, turning on his side with a slight wince. Harry eyed him a moment, before nodding and smiling tiredly.
"That was good," Harry said with a sigh. Draco raised an eyebrow at that.
"I think I deserve better than 'good'," Draco teased, the beginnings of a smirk twisting his lips.
Harry grinned at the banter. "What do you mean 'you deserve'? I did all the bloody work!"
Draco smiled full out. "My ass was the one giving all that delicious pressure to you cock, Potter. I think I deserve a bit more credit."
Harry gave a low, rumbling laugh, lifting himself up onto his elbow. "If you say so, Malfoy. It was great, better than I thought sex with a guy would be." Draco simply smirked in satisfaction, before reaching for his wand to clean up the mess. With a flick and a muttered spell all traces of semen was gone. He set his wand aside again and lay back down. Harry scooted closer and pulled the blond near him, feeling the press of bare skin. Then, he pulled the Slytherin into a languid kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. They kissed for long moments, simply enjoying the easy going kiss with lazy satisfaction.
There was silence for a bit, before Draco spoke. "We should probably be heading back to out dorms soon," the blond said quietly. Harry simply nodded and Draco didn't press it. They were both feeling relaxed and too good to get up at that point. Harry slid a hand over Draco's stomach, tracing the contours with his fingers lazily. He mapped an old, faded scar on Draco's side that was about three or four inches long in a slightly ragged pattern.
"Where'd you get that?" Harry asked quietly.
Draco looked at him for a moment, and then sighed softly. "This past summer, at the manor, I used a piece of glass because I didn't want to get my dagger which had been too far away at the time," Draco said, shrugging awkwardly from his position. Harry hummed, before removing his fingers. "And wasn't one lightning bolt scar enough for you?"
Harry chuckled derisively at that and shook his head. "I was feeling particularly bad when I did that. I don't even know why I did it like that."
"I would say you're weird, but I'd feel too much like a hypocrite. I do think it looks cool, though. Much better than your other one," Draco said. Harry gave him a funny look, and then shook his head with a wry smile.
"How we could find something so morbid, so cool, is beyond me," Harry said with amusement in his voice. As if to prove his point, Harry leaned down and licked the scar on Draco's side he had been playing with earlier with one slow, long draw of his tongue. Draco shivered slightly and Harry pulled back with a smirk. "Let's get dressed and get out here, yeah? We do have classes tomorrow, you know."
Draco snorted, but rose from the bed anyway. "Yeah, we should do that," he replied. They dressed, talking and teasing each other good-naturedly as they did so. Harry was amazed at the lack of awkwardness between them. He was sure it would come later, once he really thought about it all, but right then it was nice to just feel relaxed. Once he was dressed, Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map and his cloak.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
"I think that's cool and bloody convenient," Draco said, looking down at the map. Harry had shown it to him not to long ago and Draco had been completely amazed by it.
"See, Gryffindors are good for something," Harry teased, still looking at the map.
"Hmm, yes, they are," Draco said suggestively, leering at Harry. Harry flushed and shifted on his feet. Ah, there's the awkwardness, Harry thought.
"Anyway, the first three floors down are currently clear, including this one. Fourth down has got Filch on it, but he's not where you need to go," Harry said.
"I'll use a Disillusionment Charm to keep me hidden. We can't all have invisibility cloaks, you know," Draco said with a put upon sigh. "I'll be fine."
"If you get caught, I promise not to laugh too much at your misfortune," Harry teased.
"Thanks Potter. Really," Draco drawled dryly. The two walked towards the door, ready to separate. Draco turned and pushed Harry against the wall, attaching his lips to the others. Harry got over his surprise rather quickly and the engaged in a long, hard kiss. Draco pulled back and smirked at Harry, who grinned back. "See you later, Scarhead," Draco said, performing the spell.
Harry donned his cloak with a chuckle. "You, too, Ferret," Harry replied. The door was opened and the two departed from the Room of Requirement silently.
Back in his dorm, lying in bed, Harry thought about what had happened that night. He could feel the – most likely – goofy smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks as he did so. He couldn't believe he'd just shagged a bloke and Draco Malfoy at that. It was such a wonderful experience, but Harry had to wonder. Would it change things between them? Would there be awkwardness there that had faded once they had become real friends? They were questions that plagued his mind, but for now he would simply sleep and be content with the memories of that night.