Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter, and make no money from writing this story.
Summary: AU. No HBP. As he falls asleep one night, Harry reflects on the events of the past two years, and how he came to be with Draco. H/D SLASH. Warning: Lemon and prostitution.
A/N: I'm so sorry that I haven't written for ages! I've been so busy with work and stuff! I've started work on updates for a couple of my other stories, so they won't be long, I swear!
Anyway, this came out of nowhere. It just arrived in my head one day, plonked down its suitcases, and said "I'm here to stay until you write me down!" So I did.
I'm posting this before my other updates, because it's a special fic. It's my sister's first birthday on Wednesday, and it was mine the week before last, so this is dedicated to us! (Well, her mostly) Happy birthday us!
Please review! I'm keen to know what you think!
Harry's Favourite Love Story.
The dimly lit room was filled with soft gasping and the rustle of sheets. There was a quiet moan, and one of the figures upon the bed stiffened as he climaxed. The smaller figure below opened emerald eyes wide as a look of pure bliss spread across his face, and he came with a sigh of his lover's name. They rode out the intense waves of orgasm together, then lay still, staring into each other's eyes.
It was exactly, Harry remembered, as the first time they made love, two nights after Voldemort's defeat.
They left the celebrations early, eyes only for each other. They'd enjoyed the party, but by the end of the day, they had trouble keeping their hands to themselves. Making their way swiftly to the room of requirements, Draco placed a gentle kiss to Harry's lips, then walked three times past the wall, thinking of a place to make Harry his. The door materialised, and the blond took Harry's hand to lead him into the candlelit chamber beyond.
Their feet sank into the thickly carpeted floor, the door sealing itself behind them. Kicking their shoes off, the two boys lay on the bed, kissing softly.
Languidly, they removed each other's clothes, lavishing kisses and touches upon the skin they revealed. Soon, they lay naked together upon the silk sheets, moving gently, exploring, and finding the tender spots on the body before them, as they'd never done before.
It was love. They didn't need to rush, they could be as slow as they wished. They wanted to savour the experience.
Draco ran his hands down Harry's chest softly, reaching the raven boy's erection, stroking gently while he kissed the tender neck below him.
"Oh Draco…more…" Harry moaned quietly.
'I need lube,' Draco thought, and a tube appeared next to his hand.
Picking it up, he slathered his fingers in the substance, and circled Harry's entrance with a single digit.
Harry groaned and thrust his hips. Smiling gently, Draco pushed his finger inside. He waited until Harry had adjusted to the intrusion, before twisting his finger, stretching the passage carefully. Withdrawing, he crossed two fingers together, thrusting them back in and again waiting for Harry. Scissoring his fingers, he searched for Harry's prostate, knowing he'd found it when his smaller lover arched and gasped. Withdrawing his fingers once again, Draco slid them back in, adding a third finger, brushing over the raven boy's prostate again.
Finally feeling that Harry was ready, he lubed his throbbing erection and positioned himself. Pushing in, inch by inch, feeling Harry's tight heat stretching around him, Draco moaned.
After waiting for Harry to adjust, Draco began to move carefully in and out, going as slowly as he could, taking pleasure in feeling Harry's walls squeezing around him. Angling himself, Draco succeeded in brushing against Harry's sweet spot on every thrust.
Tanned legs wrapped around his hips, as the emerald eyed boy's fingers clutched Draco's pale shoulders, pulling him down for a tender kiss. Breaking the kiss when the need for air arose, Draco looked deep into Harry's eyes as he continued to thrust.
They moved together for what seemed like eternity, the sweet pressure building, their gazes wavering only when they placed tender kisses upon the other's face and neck. Soon, Draco reached for Harry's neglected member, wrapping his hand firmly around it, and stroking in time to his movements. It didn't take long for Harry to climax, tightening his grip on strong, pale shoulders, and his legs bringing Draco deeper within him.
"Draco…" he sighed.
Feeling Harry clenching around him, the heat becoming searing in its intensity, and hearing his name leaving the sweet mouth of his lover was too much for Draco. He came hard, filling the Gryffindor with his essence. He shuddered at the pleasure he felt. Never had it been so intense.
Panting, Draco withdrew from his lover's passage, and they lay together, staring into the other's loving eyes.
"What are you thinking about?" Draco's quiet voice broke the stillness that surrounded them.
"I was remembering the night we made love for the first time," Harry smiled.
"The best night of my life," Draco's answering smile was gentle. "Followed, of course, by many other best nights of my life."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.
"Every night with you is the best of my life," Draco explained, kissing away the crease in Harry's forehead. "But our first time making love, was the first best night of my life."
"I think the same is true for me," he whispered.
The blond dipped his head, and his gentle lips met Harry's. For a moment, they moved their mouths, carefully caressing the other, before Draco swiped his tongue across the Gryffindor's bottom lip, begging entrance to the sweet cavern. Harry eagerly opened his mouth to Draco, engaging in a playful battle with his lover's tongue.
Breaking the kiss, Draco rolled to Harry's side, wrapping his arm tightly around the slim waist. Harry moved onto his side too, pressing his back to the strong chest behind him.
"I love you, Harry," Draco whispered.
"I love you too," Harry replied.
He remembered the first time that they had admitted their feelings for each other. It was just after Harry had killed Voldemort, as they stood on the battlefield.
The battle started early in the morning. The entire castle was awoken by the sounding of alarms. The wards were under attack.
Harry leapt out of bed and pulled on his clothes. There was a prickle in his scar that let him know the Dark Lord was near. He knew that the war had to end that day. There was no other way around it. Voldemort was making a direct attack on the school, which meant that he was sure that his power was almost complete. Only Dumbledore and Harry stood in his way.
Going over to the window, Harry looked out over the grounds. Beyond the gates, was a huge mass of black, not the usual grass and dusty road to Hogsmeade. Death Eaters.
Behind him, there was a rustle and the pad of bare feet on the carpet. Draco pressed his chest to the Gryffindor's back.
"It's him, isn't it?" he asked.
"Who else?" Harry asked, turning. "It's time to finish it."
He took a lingering glance at Draco's naked torso, the sheet hanging dangerously low on his slim hips. His lover was beautiful, and this may be the last time he'd ever see him.
"I'm going to meet Dumbledore," he whispered. "Take care of yourself, Draco."
The two of them shared a sweet, tender kiss, before Harry swept from the room, leaving the Slytherin alone.
Draco hung his head in sorrow. Harry had gone to fight the Dark Lord, he may never return, and he, Draco, had been too cowardly to tell the raven-haired boy that he loved him.
No, Draco refused to be scared any longer. He may be a Slytherin, but he was no coward. Resolved, he began to dress. He was going to fight.
The battle lasted for several hours, and it was early afternoon when a tired Harry finally faced Voldemort. While the Gryffindor had had to fight his way through the countless ranks of Death Eaters, Voldemort had stayed far back, not engaging in battle.
The two wizards exchanged several harsh words and taunts, before the fight commenced. It was brutal, and Harry sustained several wounds, but he finally managed to utter the words every witch and wizard feared to hear.
The green light flared, and with a thud, the body of Tom Marvolo Riddle hit the ground, dead. It was anticlimactic, really. Harry had somehow assumed that Voldemort's death would be more spectacular. This was rather unimpressive.
The moment after these thoughts flitted across his mind, Harry realised that he didn't need to wonder anymore. It was over. All around, Death Eaters were fleeing. Voldemort was gone.
Harry's heart lifted. He was free.
When the light of the killing curse faded from the air, Draco looked up from the body of the aunt he had killed.
He had fought his way across the field, in an attempt to reach Harry and aid him, when he had met her. She had sneered at him, and they had tossed simple curses at each other.
Finally, she seemingly became bored, and taunted him, saying that Draco would never have the nerve to kill a family member. It wasn't in his blood, she told him. He had been taught better.
She didn't even duck when he cast the curse. Didn't have time to. Though, in the moment before it struck her chest, she screamed one word, and it still echoed in his ears, even now.
But now, staring at the form of Harry standing over the dead body of the Dark Lord, Bellatrix's shrill cry faded into nothing. The war was over, and Harry, standing there covered in cuts and bruises, his clothes torn and bloody, was the most beautiful sight Draco had ever beheld.
Clutching a deep, bleeding wound on his side, Draco stumbled over Bellatrix's corpse towards Harry. He had to make sure he was alright.
Reaching the Gryffindor, Draco grabbed the boy's shoulder with his free hand.
"Harry! Are you ok?" he asked frantically.
"I'm fine," Harry mumbled. "A little tired…I can't believe it's over."
"I'm so glad you're ok," Draco breathed in relief. "I was so worried!"
Harry's eyes focused on him for the first time, having previously been staring off in a daze.
"Draco! You're hurt!" he cried, reaching for the wound. "Come on, we have to get you to the hospital wing!"
"Wait!" Draco had to say it before he lost his nerve. "Harry, I need to tell you something. I love you."
Harry's eyes softened as he smiled.
"I love you, too," he whispered.
And there, on the blood-drenched battlefield, they kissed.
They'd gone up to the hospital wing after that, one of the fifth years who had volunteered to assist Madame Pomfrey supplying them with healing potions, before they returned to their rooms to shower.
By the time they arrived in the Great Hall, the bodies outside had been moved to classrooms on the sixth floor of the castle, the corridors banned to all but mourning family and friends. Dumbledore declared that night to be for grieving and healing, the party could wait.
No one argued with this, and Harry visited the bodies of those lost, shedding bitter tears over the losses of Percy Weasley and Ernie Macmillan late into the night. Although not great friends, he still felt their deaths keenly. They were too young to have been taken by death.
The party had begun early the next evening, even those grieving joining in, now that the shock had worn off. At the end of the feast, a toast had been held to honour those who had died, their names read out and followed by a minute of silence. Though it was wished that everyone had survived, they had died fighting for a better world, and that was recognised, lifting the sorrows in people's hearts.
Following the toast, the tables in the Great Hall were cleared away, leaving room for an impromptu dance floor, conjured by Professor Flitwick. Music flooded the room, and the celebration began in earnest.
It was several hours later that Harry and Draco slipped away, having danced together several times.
Harry was glad that they'd retreated. He loved his friends, and wanted to celebrate with them, but at that moment in time, he'd needed to affirm his love with Draco. There would be plenty of time for Ron and Hermione later.
That night had completely changed Harry's life. He and Draco had had sex before, but never had it been so sensual and consuming. Harry had felt as though he and Draco were the only people in the world. Nothing else mattered.
It had never been like that before. Sure, the sex had been good, but usually they came together in need of comfort, or a release of anger. Harry remembered the first time they'd slept together since returning to Hogwarts.
Harry was waiting for Draco in the Room of Requirement. They'd been meeting there twice a week since Draco had helped Snape rescue Harry in September. What had happened had changed their attitudes towards each other, and they'd decided to try to get to know each other better, with a view to becoming friends. It was going well, and over the past two months, the boys had gotten to know each other fairly well.
Draco was uncharacteristically late, and Harry was becoming anxious. The blond never forgot a meeting, and was always five minutes early. Harry hoped nothing was wrong.
Eventually, the door slammed open, and Draco stormed in, a scowl marring his face. Kicking the door shut, the Slytherin stomped over to the couch Harry was sitting on, and threw himself onto the cushions.
Harry let him seethe in silence for a moment, before tentatively placing a hand on his new friend's shoulder.
"Draco, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.
"Bloody Smith still doesn't believe I'm fighting for the Light!" the blond snapped. "Keeps making comments about me being a Death Eater spy, and waiting to kill everyone in their sleep! I can't take it anymore!"
Harry nodded, understanding. Draco had been having problems with Smith for weeks. Harry didn't much like the boy either, but he was on their side. They just needed to put up with him.
"If he says one more thing, I don't know whether I can stop myself cursing him! He just gets to me!" Burning grey eyes found emerald ones. "I have all this pent up anger, and if I don't release it I'm going to snap. I hate to ask you this, Harry, but I need to release this energy some way, I need your help. I'm so frustrated, and I just…"
He trailed off, but Harry knew what he was asking. He wasn't angry with Draco for this request, and nor was he afraid. Even if this was done in anger, the blond would be a much more considerate lover than any he'd had before. Besides, they'd been somewhat intimate in the past; it wasn't too big a deal.
The couch became a bed beneath them, and Harry lay back.
"Whatever you need, Draco, do it," he answered. "I'm ok with it."
In barely a second, the blond's larger body covered Harry's own, his lip's claiming the raven boy's in a needy, bruising kiss.
The force the blond displayed shocked Harry, but he quickly responded. This was Draco, after all. The boy was gorgeous, and wouldn't hurt him. Despite his anger, it wasn't in his nature.
Soon, they were peeling each other's clothes off, rocking their hips together forcefully. Neither were going to last, and Draco made short work of preparing Harry. Normally, he would have been more careful, but in his haze of lust and frustration, he moved much faster.
Harry felt pain as Draco quickly breached him, but soon that pain turned to pleasure, as the Slytherin moved within him. Even though he was catering to his own need, Draco still managed to make Harry feel good. As he climaxed, Harry knew he would never regret letting Draco use him in this way.
Draco shuddered through his own intense release, and finally leaned down to take Harry's swollen and sore lips in a gentle, soothing kiss.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"You're welcome," Harry replied, as Draco rolled off him and wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor's waist.
They lay in silence for a while, until Draco's soft snores filled the room.
Much like they were doing now. Harry smiled softly. The sound of Draco sleeping was soothing. Just like a lullaby. He'd fallen asleep to their rhythm countless times since they'd become casual lovers.
It wasn't always Draco who came to Harry, though. The raven boy often begged comfort from his blond friend, and over the months, they'd come to fall in love.
Harry burrowed further into the strong chest behind him as he remembered, once again, that it was Snape who had brought Draco and he together.
Severus Snape, on orders from Dumbledore, had gone to Privet Drive to retrieve Harry on the third of September, the Gryffindor having failed to catch the Hogwarts Express or write.
The walrus-like man who had answered the door had refused to provide Snape with details of the Boy-Who-Lived's whereabouts. However, Snape was in luck. He'd run into the Chosen One's overweight blond cousin at the end of the drive, and for the 'small' price of fifty pounds, had told Snape that his father had gotten Harry employed at the local strip club and whorehouse.
Shocked at the treatment the Gryffindor hero seemingly received from his only living family, Snape followed the blond pig's directions, and soon found himself paying the doorman five pounds in order to enter the club.
Inside, music pounded through the speakers, strobe lights flared, and young men and women danced around poles on platforms scattered around the large space. Still more whores moved about the seated patrons, giving lap-dances here and there for extra money.
Scanning the throng, Snape quickly identified the raven Seeker. He moved with an unnatural grace, his exposed torso gleaming with sweat and glitter, and his tight leather trousers showing off everything about his lower half. Nothing was left to the imagination.
Making his way closer, Snape couldn't stop his eyes from straying to the way the boy's body slithered up and down the pole. He sure was extraordinary.
Reaching the podium, Snape prepared to shout up to the Gryffindor to catch his attention, but was pushed roughly to the side.
"Too late, he's taken for tonight," the greasy, pockmarked man in front of him stated. "Maybe you could buy him tomorrow?"
Snape realised that this was the owner of the club.
"I will certainly think about it," he replied. "He is a fine specimen. How much a night for him?"
"Hundred and fifty an hour," the owner replied. "Most keep him for two to three hours."
"Rather expensive for one so small and young, don't you think?" Snape raised an eyebrow.
"He's worth your money, that one," the man gave a lecherous grin at the sight of Harry's lightly swaying backside above him. "Best one I've got. He's tight; most lose that after a while, but not him. Plus, he's flexible. You can get him into any position you fancy."
Snape almost cursed the creature before him, but restrained, realising that that might not be the best idea in a club full of muggles.
"I shall think about it," he replied coolly, then turned and swept away.
Stopping near the door, he looked back in time to see Harry finish his dance, speak briefly to his boss, before following him to a large muscular man twice the boy's size. Leaving the manager, Harry led the stranger into a back passage.
Snape left, a sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of what the Gryffindor was most likely doing at that very moment. An idea struck him, and he returned quickly to Hogwarts to discuss his plan with the Headmaster.
Snape paced his office, waiting for his godson to arrive. He'd sent him a letter that morning, asking him to come to the office at seven sharp, dressed in his finest muggle clothes, and with at least three hundred pounds in muggle currency.
He knew that Draco would agree to this plan, if only to prove his switch to the Light without a shadow of a doubt.
Finally, there was a knock at the door, and the Potions Master pulled it open to assess his godson. Deeming Draco sufficient, he led the way out of the dungeons and across the Hogwarts grounds, a questioning blond behind him.
Confident that no-one was around as they reached the gates, Snape explained everything to Draco, before side-along apparating them to the alley behind the club.
"So…let me get this straight," Draco frowned. "You want me to pay a man to let me have sex with Potter?"
"You won't really have sex with him, Draco!" Snape exclaimed, frustrated. "Make the man think you are, and once you're alone with Potter, explain the plan. It's up to you to tell him we're working on his rescue."
"But, why me?" he asked.
"Because I need someone who has money, and acts like it, too," Snape explained through gritted teeth. "You're the only person I know who fits the bill. I could never do it now he's met me."
Draco nodded, still slightly confused. Why would he need to pay someone for Potter's body?
They arrived at the door of the club a few minutes before the performances of the strippers were due to begin, and began to search immediately for the greasy owner. Snape soon spotted him, bumbling around greeting the regular patrons.
Leading Draco over, he muttered one final warning.
"Don't fuck this up, it's our only chance."
They finally reached the man, and Draco took the lead.
"Excuse me, but my manservant informed me that you may have a boy I would find pleasurable," he spoke in his haughtiest tone, hoping the man bought their ruse.
The greasy man's eyes flicked over to Snape, and then flashed quickly up and down Draco, assessing his obvious wealth. This young man could bring in a higher class of clientele if he humoured him.
"It was the Potter boy, wasn't it?" he mused, glancing at Snape.
"I was not informed of his name," Snape answered.
He pointed over to where Harry was climbing onto his podium a short distance away.
"That was the boy," he said.
"Yes…" the man mused. "You're in luck, no-one's booked him for tonight. How long would you require him for?"
"I'll say two hours for now," Draco reached into his pocket for the muggle wallet he'd bought the previous summer. "If I take longer, I'll pay you extra later. How much would you like?"
"Three hundred and fifty, sir," the greasy man smiled.
"Curious," Snape intervened. "But, I could swear that you told me he costs one hundred and fifty pounds an hour. It should be three hundred pounds for two hours."
"Of course!" the man gave a fake smile. "Silly me! Three hundred pounds, please sir."
Draco eyed him for a moment, before pulling out the designated amount of cash and handing it over.
"Thank you sir," the greasy man gushed as he tucked it into his money pouch. "Here, I shall retrieve him before he starts his routine."
The two wizards watched as the owner walked over to Harry's podium and grabbed his trouser leg, catching the Gryffindor's attention. He spoke rapidly, and Harry quickly descended, following his boss over to them in silence.
Green eyes widened when they saw the person who had paid for him, but he knew better than to argue. At his boss' suggestion, he led the blond down the back corridor, and into his 'workroom'.
It wasn't the nicest room that Draco had ever seen, but it had a comfortable looking bed, and a mirror near a wardrobe. He locked the door and turned to look at the teen sitting on the bed.
Harry was terrified. If Draco was here, that meant that Voldemort knew where he was. But…if that were true, why wasn't he here? Why send Malfoy?
"Listen, I know you probably won't believe me, but I'm on the Light side," Draco stumbled over his words in his rush to get everything said. "Snape brought me here. Dumbledore sent him to bring you back to Hogwarts, and this was the only plan he could come up with to rescue you, short of cursing the muggles.
"I'm to pretend to enjoy you so much tonight that I want to keep you forever. Tomorrow Snape's bringing me back to 'buy' you to be my personal concubine. You'll supposedly be coming back to my manor to live with me."
Harry was staring at him in wonder.
"Do you promise?" he whispered. "Are you really getting me out of here?"
"I swear," Draco answered firmly.
Harry flung himself at his old blond rival.
"Thank you!" he cried, hugging the boy tightly.
They stood in silence for a moment, Draco overwhelmed by the raven boy's reaction, Harry in thought. He drew back slightly.
"We should do something so that your story is more credible," he said.
"Potter, no offence, but I don't think I can," Draco shook his head. "It's not that I'm disgusted at the thought of another boy, I'm bisexual, and I do find you attractive, but this is all so strange to me. I don't understand this world where you have to pay to be with someone. It doesn't feel right."
"It isn't right," Harry stared at his feet. "It's illegal, in fact, and it has a name. Prostitution. Unfortunately, there are those that manage to get away with it. This place is hidden in a maze-like industrial estate, and is kept quiet; the police don't know it even exists.
"Some people become prostitutes because they have no choice-they need money, or are forced. Others decide to do this for the money, even though pimps like my boss take most of the money. I'm lucky if I see a quarter of what gets paid for me every week. He keeps it all, and the bit I get goes to my uncle to pay for my keep.
"I don't want to do this, it's horrible. People hurt me, and it makes me feel dirty and worthless, but I have no choice. My uncle took my owl away and intercepted all my letters. He even stood over my shoulder as I wrote my responses to the Order, to make sure I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't help but to do as he said."
Draco embraced the boy in front of him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know it was like that for you. I always assumed…"
"It's ok," Harry sniffled. "I still think we should do something together."
"I know you're right," Draco replied. "But after hearing that, I don't think I could go through with it."
"It's different with you," Harry said. "I know you, and I'm willing. I was forced with the others. It doesn't have to be anything big, just something."
"If you're sure…" Draco still wasn't comfortable with the idea.
Harry saw this, and knew exactly what to do. Guiding Draco into a chair near the bed, he sat the Slytherin down and turned on a c.d. player on the floor. A rhythmic pounding flooded out of the speakers, and Harry began to dance.
Draco's eyes went wide as he realised what was happening. He'd never had a lap dance before, but knew instinctively that Harry was good at it. He couldn't pry his eyes from the toned body swaying before him.
Slowly, Harry peeled off his fishnet top, and Draco gulped at the sight of glitter shimmering on his toned chest and stomach. Suddenly, Harry swung around and lent forwards, his hands reaching back for the sides of Draco's chair. The leather-clad arse brushed his shirt, before reaching his lap. Supporting his weight on his hands and legs, Harry lightly ground his ass into Draco's lap, teasing.
Draco's body began to respond, and the blond felt his entire body heat up. In one fluid movement, Harry pushed himself into a standing position, spinning and throwing a leg over Draco's head and down his other side, plonking himself squarely on the blond's groin, still gyrating his hips.
Draco couldn't take it anymore, and his hands firmly grasped Harry's arse, pulling him in further, and attaching his lips to the hollow at the bottom of Harry's throat. Rough hands grabbed at his shoulders, and Harry tipped his head back with a throaty moan, allowing more access.
The taste of Harry's skin was intoxicating to the aroused blond, and he needed more of all the sensations running through him. Lifting them both from the chair, Draco dropped Harry onto the bed, and grasped his shirt to pull it over his head. Focusing back on the bed, Draco felt his jaw drop, and stared, shocked at the sight he beheld. Harry had wriggled out of his trousers, and was caressing his own erect cock, his eyes locked on Draco's face with a smoky gaze.
Draco gulped as Harry's free hand dropped to fondle his balls, his legs spreading wider, and his fingers travelling lower to penetrate himself. Knees weak, the blond sank back into the chair, transfixed and unable to believe that the World's Saviour was pleasuring himself so brazenly in front of him.
Soon, the Gryffindor brought himself off with another throaty moan, and as he licked his hand clean, Draco became aware of how much his throbbing erection hurt.
"Come here," Harry commanded quietly, and Draco, trembling with arousal and desire, obeyed.
He stretched out over Harry, kissing him, and tasting the Gryffindor's essence on his tongue.
Wrapping his legs around Draco's waist, Harry rolled them over, his weight pressing deliciously on Draco's cock. Slithering down the boy's body, Harry released the large erection from it's confines, and proceeded to give Draco the best blowjob he'd ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
Afterwards, they lay together, recovering.
"Thank you," Draco whispered.
"For what?" Harry raised his head off Draco's chest to frown down at him.
"For showing me true pleasure," Draco replied. "It's time for me to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
"It was the least I could do," Harry mumbled. "Do you think we could, maybe, try to become friends when we get back to school?"
"Definitely," Draco smiled, straightening his clothes and sweeping out of the door.
Sure enough, the next day, Draco and Snape returned to the club, and after a long round of negotiations, Draco 'bought' Harry for ten thousand pounds, five going to Vernon as compensation for Harry being on his hands for so long.
Arriving back at school, Harry and Draco kept their promise to become friends, and eventually, eight months later, told each other of their love.
Thinking back, Harry could see the attraction between the two of them leading back as far as the club. He'd been so confident that night. Normally, he let his partners take the lead, but he'd been so dominant, and had tried his best to arouse and please Draco. He'd wanted the blond to want him.
Harry smiled. That was all ancient history. Draco knew all about his childhood, and loved him all the more for it. He said it made Harry extremely special if he could turn out such a wonderful person after treatment like that.
So here they were, a month before the end of their seventh year, together. They were happy, and looking forward to a long life together after leaving school. They'd already bought a small house in Hogsmeade to live in when they finished school, and planned to wed within the year.
His last thought before falling asleep, was that of all the love stories he'd heard, Harry's favourite by far was his and Draco's.
A/N: Well? Please review! I really hope you liked it! More updates on the other stories soon, I promise!