D/H smutty One Shot. - Harry finds himself wanting to have the one person that is completely off limits to him. Draco Malfoy. What happens when he might not be so off limits after all? Story begins immediately after the war.

Authors Note: I decided in the interim, while writing Divided, that I would write a smutty little one shot fic. I had an idea, and wanted to get it down on paper (well digital paper anyhow) before I forgot it. Many thanks to my beta for this story Divinexrapture, for stitching up all my grammar and punctuation errors, you are such a blessing! :)

Harry leaned in and cupped Hermione's face with his right hand. Her eyes closed, thick brown eyelashes fluttering gently. He pulled her face up to meet his and kissed her, slowly at first, but then more deliberate, pressing his lips firmly against hers.

They pulled back after a moment, fidgeting awkwardly. Hermione didn't look up but rather stared intently at her feet, obviously finding something of great interest on her right toe. "I'm sorry, Harry. That did nothing for me."

Harry sighed in relief. "Oh good, me either. I guess that confirms it well enough."

"Are you sure Harry, I mean, maybe it's just me…" she trailed off, already suspecting the truth of it.

Harry grinned. "Mione, you're clever, funny, beautiful and I love spending time with you, if I were going to fall in love with a girl… it would be you."

"Maybe if-" she began, but he cut her off abruptly.

"It's okay, Mione. Thanks for letting me test out my theory," he smiled sheepishly. Hermione had been sweet enough to agree to his odd request when he came to her the day before.

After the war ended, the trio, along with a horde of other students, stayed at Hogwarts to finish out what should have been their seventh year and take their exams. Ginny had been pestering him incessantly to ask her out again, but Harry's heart just wasn't in it, and every time he managed to come up with a new excuse, each one lamer than the last.

"Ginny, the war is barely over, we both need time to mourn."

"Exams are coming up and I really can't be distracted."

"Oh, come on Gin, do you really want me to ask you out on a day when the weather is so miserable?"

The fiery red head had always been a bit… enthusiastic, but finally she took the hint and gave up. That had been two weeks ago. Then just a few days later, she showed up in the common room holding hands with Neville. He was both relieved and unnerved by the development. Relieved because he no longer needed to feel bad about Ginny's infatuation with him, and unnerved because he was a tad bit jealous.

The jealousy would have felt normal to him however, if it weren't for the fact that it had nothing to do with Ginny. His subtle waves of envy were all directed at Longbottom. It was this revelation that led him to Hermione.

There was no other girl he could trust, and he was terrified of his preferences leaking out to the public, he knew he could ask Hermione, and even if she said no, she wouldn't have told a soul.

She didn't agree right away, in fact she had made him wait until just that morning for her answer. She was happy with Ron, and didn't want to mess that up, but in the end she decided that what Ron didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and that Harry was her friend and needed her help.

The kiss was nice, but not arousing in the least. It was a clear-cut answer for Harry - he was gay.

It all made sense really. Approaching a girl had always seemed more terrifying than facing Voldemort, and he never really saw the point. However, Ron was scared too, so Harry just managed to equate his fears to being a normal adolescent boy. He should have known better though, there wasn't a single aspect in his life that could have ever been considered normal.

Then he went after Cho, who was obviously unattainable. Ginny he realized, only too late, simply reminded him of home and family. Snogging her had been tedious at best, but he felt like after he made such a huge deal over dating her to Ron, that he had best follow through until an escape presented itself, which, eventually it did.

Though relieved that he at least knew almost certainly that he preferred boys, he had no idea what to do about said preference.

Hermione was happy to help with that as well.


Harry sat staring down at the magazine in his hand. Hermione had "helpfully" gotten him a subscription to 'Wand', which was apparently the periodical of choice for all gay wizards.

She had read it first of course, because she just couldn't help herself. If there was something with writing anywhere near her, Hermione was going to read it.

Knowing this didn't help Harry concentrate on it one bit. He swallowed thickly as he peered at the moving pictures of hot young wizards and read over scathingly detailed articles and stories, each time glancing up to see if Hermione was watching him. She already knew exactly what was in the magazine after all.

After several minutes she did look up from her own magazine and watched Harry critically. "Well, what do you think, Harry?"

"Erm… it's… well –" He didn't really know what to say to his best friend. She had been so supportive, but it all just seemed embarrassingly personal.

She laughed lightly and stood up, brushing the grass from her skirt. "I just meant, does any of it seem right for you? I just want to make sure you're happy with your decision. You don't have to give me an account of which bits turn you on."

Harry flushed and looked down, rolling up the magazine and stuffing it under his leg. He shot her a playfully stern look. "Hermione, does Ron know you sit around talking like that?"

"Like what?" she asked curiously.

"About turn on's and such," he answered.

She laughed. "Actually, I was pointing out that we didn't need to talk about them. And why would Ron care? It's not as if he doesn't get the benefit of my talking about it."

Harry blushed again. "So you and Ron… er… are you having sex then?"

She extended her hand out for Harry to take and pull himself up from the ground. It was a lovely June day and they had been enjoying a lounge by the lake. Harry took her hand and stood, putting the rolled up magazine into his trouser pocket.

"Yes, Harry. Ron and I have sex," she replied at last. "Not that it's anyone's business but our own, but you're our best friend, so I'm sure he'd be fine with you knowing."

Harry nodded and they started their lazy walk back to the castle. "But how, I mean we're not allowed in each others dorms, plus all the people…"

"The room of requirement works just fine," she replied with a cheeky grin.

They continued their walk in silence. Harry trotted along dumbfounded, all of his friends had paired off and Harry was only just beginning to figure out what he even wanted. Was there even another gay wizard at Hogwarts? Even if there were, would he like any of them? All the sixth and seventh year Gryffindor's were paired up with someone else, so he knew for a fact that even if there were someone else with his preferences, they would be in another house, and Harry barely knew anyone outside his own common room.

He tried to shrug it off, reasoning that any sexual experiences for him would just have to wait until school was over and he was out on his own.


Harry walked the corridors under his invisibility cloak, quietly making his way around the castle. He loved his nighttime walks, and now with Voldemort gone, and almost all the Death Eaters in Azkaban, he felt safer than ever. It was finally his time to relax and just be Harry.

He had no real agenda for the night, just seeking the solitude that Hogwarts at night always seemed willing to provide him.

He stopped briefly when he heard a noise coming from the prefect's bathroom. He almost kept walking, assuming it was Myrtle trying to amuse herself in the empty room, but the noises he heard were distinctly male.

His heart sped up a bit as he eased the door open as quietly as he could and stepped into the room. A sharp hiss made him stop in his tracks, thinking he had been caught, but he quickly saw that the boy leaning against the far stall was far too preoccupied to have noticed Harry's entrance.

There in front of him, was none other than Draco Malfoy, head lolled back and mouth parted slightly as Blaise Zabini kneeled in front of him. The sight gave Harry a chill as he realized no story or picture in 'Wand' held a candle to watching this in person.

He stood rigidly still watching the scene play out in front of him, and was slightly disturbed to realize why it captivated him so thoroughly.

Draco was hot.

Not just in the way that the models in his magazine were hot, but a scalding, penetrating, shudder inducing hot, and Harry immediately felt the air around him dissipate as he lost the ability to breathe.

His blonde hair fell loosely around his pale angular face, his eyes were closed, but he could imagine the metallic gray color easily enough, having been on the receiving end of more than one of his glares. His neck was long and tinted from the light filtering through the stained glass windows. He also made the most fascinating noises Harry had ever heard, and suddenly he had to fight the urge to push Blaise away and finish the job himself.

A small smile curled on Harry's lips as he thought of the repercussions of doing just that, trying to imagine the look on Draco's face as phantom lips were placed where the other boy's had been a moment before. He fought hard to resist the urge to chuckle at the image in his head.

The moans were increasing in intensity and soon Draco's hand scrambled and clutched for purchase on the edge of the stall. He gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes and in one shuddering moment climaxed. He had barely composed himself for even an instant before he was roughly shoving Blaise away.

"Okay, you've had your fun, now sod off," Draco said roughly.

Blaise pouted like a petulant child. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself just as much," he replied, not budging to move even an inch away from the blonde.

Draco laughed, and it sounded harsh, even to Harry, who wasn't the one being laughed at. "I told you when you asked me for this Blaise. It's not like I'm gay," he spat. "You were just insistent."

It was the other boys turn to laugh now. "Right, so what do you think it's called when another bloke sucks your cock, Draco?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "I was picturing Pansy, if you must know." He looked just as haughty as ever, and Harry winced slightly. It appeared Harry would never get a chance to fulfill the brief fantasy he had been entertaining only moments before.

Draco's face and tone softened slightly as he looked at his dejected friend. "Look, Blaise, lets not make anything more out of this. You had your chance to change my mind, and it didn't work, sorry. Lets just go back to being friends and call it a night, okay?"

Blaise snorted. "It's not like I was asking you to cuddle."

The blonde laughed and punched the other boy lightly on the shoulder. "Right, well, go on back to the common room, I don't want to start vicious rumors by showing up together."

Blaise laughed and rolled his eyes, but left the bathroom with a quick steady stride. Harry didn't feel like he would be able to do the same, and all he did was watch.

His eyes drifted back as Draco leaned his lithe form back against the stall again and he sighed, rubbing his palms against his eyes. He rearranged his clothing; tucking everything back in properly and Harry felt a little guilty watching him like this. The Slytherin obviously thought he was alone, and that made him seem more vulnerable.

Draco stretched out like a wild cat and yawned. Harry wanted to reach out and grab him, but knew that Draco would hex him into next week if he even tried, so he just watched the boy leave the bathroom with an elegant stride.

As soon as he heard the door shut, Harry let out a loud breath that he hadn't known he was holding, and collapsed onto the ground right where he stood. He knew his dreams and fantasies would suddenly contain silky platinum blonde hair and smoldering gray eyes. He wasn't too sure if he should be happy or depressed that the last piece of confirmation—that he did indeed prefer boys—came in the form of Draco Malfoy, the unattainable blonde Adonis.


Coming out to his friends had been far easier than he had expected. He didn't let everyone in on the little secret, but he only thought it fair to tell Ron and the other boys he shared a room with.

He had been dreading it all week, but when the moment to tell them all finally presented itself, he was met with unexpected laughter.

He started to defend himself, inwardly groaning that he was going to have to spend extra energy convincing them all that it was actually true. That was until Ron came over and threw his arm over Harry's shoulder and ruffled his already messy hair with his other hand.

"Harry, mate, you're a bit slow. We've all known for years that you… well… you know."

Harry looked incredulously at his best friend, eyes wide and unbelieving. "You've known? How, I only just figured it out."

Seamus and Neville both joined in the laughter. "Harry," Neville began, "Gin's told me all about your relationship with her, and no offense mate, but you obviously weren't into her."

"Right," Seamus agreed, "then there was that fox Romilda Vane, she wanted to jump your bones and you only wanted to run screaming, no straight teenage boy would have resisted that."

"So true," Dean piped in. "We've suspected it for some time now, we were just waiting for you to come around."

"It's no big deal, Harry, though mum's going to be pissed when she finds out you won't be marrying Ginny, sorry Nev," he added, shooting Neville and apologetic look, who in turn merely shrugged.

Ron turned contemplative then however and Harry got slightly nervous. "Although, there is always Charlie… me and George always had our suspicions about him…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think Molly's just going to have to consider me part of the family in a less traditional manner, I am not dating your brother."

The group laughed, and spent the rest of the evening pondering over other possibilities for their friend's new love life. Harry never mentioned that the person who really caught his eye was a certain blonde Slytherin, not willing to push his luck when it came to revealing controversial news. He had already gotten more than he expected by having his friends all accept him so openly, he couldn't ask them to acknowledge his predilection for pale Slytherin flesh as well.


The final days at Hogwarts came and went and Harry was getting acclimated with his new life. He used some of his inheritance money to buy himself a flat in London, and gifted Grimmauld place to Ron and Hermione, who had gotten married shortly after graduating. Hermione was already pregnant with their first child, just four short years after graduating.

At twenty-two Harry felt better than he ever had before. He had his own place in the heart of London; he had finished Auror training and was now the leader of an entire division of the branch. He rarely saw himself on the front page of any newspapers any more, save that one issue of 'Witch Weekly' that named him most eligible wizard of the year. He still shuddered when he thought of all the fan owls that had resulted from that article.

He was confident in his sexual preference, often visiting muggle and wizard gay clubs alike. Though he was careful not to give reporters any reason to note his behavior, he didn't really care if it got out. It was more about not wanting his privacy invaded than anything else.

His fantasies about Malfoy he kept locked tightly in the back of his mind. He was never tricked into thinking they had gone away, and it wasn't lost on Harry that all the boys he picked up tended to remind him of Draco.

His favorite club was the 'Wooden Broomstick' and although he hated actually dancing, he loved to watch others. It was at that same club, watching anonymous gay wizards dance the night away, where his entire, carefully erected, world began to crumble.


Harry sat at a booth on the edge of the dance floor watching the sweaty bodies move in sync with the music. He had always wished for some fragment of rhythm for himself, but it never came to pass. Still, he was content enough to just watch. Occasionally a boy would catch his eye and beckon him into the crowd, but Harry always politely shook his head, declining the offer to dance.

Sometimes they would just continue to gyrate against whoever was close enough, and other times they would come to Harry, sitting down next to him, flirting. Harry didn't really mind either way. Never had he met a boy at one of these clubs that he would have attempted a 'relationship' with.

It was like any other night, and he was watching the dance floor casually, when he spotted his mark. He was a dead ringer for Malfoy, and would have fit into his fantasies perfectly. Harry wanted him.

He sat for a while watching the blonde twist and sway to the music. He looked angelic with the multicolored lights reflecting off his sweat soaked skin. Other boys would make advances on him, but he paid no attention. He just kept moving like he owned the whole dance floor.

After a song or two, the boy looked up and met Harry's eyes. They were a smoky gray, and Harry couldn't have been more pleased by the similarities. He smiled at the blonde and gestured with a nod for the boy to join him in the booth. The Draco look-a-like raised an elegant eyebrow in question, before slowing his movements and walking toward Harry's table.

It wasn't until he was only a foot or so away that Harry realized his mistake, this was not some fabulous imitation of Draco Malfoy.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Harry's heart began to race as Draco moved to sit in the booth across from him. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the savior of the wizarding world, in a gay club of all places," he sneered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It might be prudent to point out that you're here too, Malfoy."

He shrugged elegantly and leaned against his folded hands. "So, why did you summon me over here?"

Harry frowned. "I didn't know it was you actually."

Draco laughed and his lips curved into his trademark smirk. "You expect me to believe that, Potter. How many wizards in this place look like me?" he gloated as he gestured to his pale hair and magnificent body.

"You'd be surprised," Harry muttered, just soft enough that Draco wouldn't hear. There was no reason to let the Slytherin know he was the sole object of his wet dreams, it was embarrassing enough without him being aware of it. "Well, nice seeing you. You can go back and dance now. Sorry to bother you."

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry's hand, trying to pull him from the booth. "Care to dance?"

Harry nearly choked. "Er… no, I don't dance."

"Oh, come on. When am I going to get another opportunity to writhe against my old childhood nemesis in a gay club?" he asked, as if that would make Harry change his mind.

The 'writhe against' part almost did though. Harry fought against the urge, remembering the night in the Prefect's bathroom. Draco wasn't gay, and Harry would just end up going home alone.

But if he wasn't gay, what was he doing here?

As if reading his mind, which honestly he could have been, his eyes trained over to another booth, where Blaise sat, sipping daintily at a cocktail. "It was his turn to pick the club," Draco said, as if it explained everything, and in a way it did.

"If you won't dance, at least come sit with us," Draco said, still pulling on Harry's hand. He didn't want to give up the skin on skin contact, and really, sitting with him and Blaise wasn't much different than what he was already doing, so he reluctantly got up and followed the blonde over to their table.

Blaise looked shocked to see Harry trailing behind his best friend, but winked at him and made room for him to sit. Draco sat across from Blaise, and also moved over, patting the open seat right beside him for Harry to sit down.

Harry took a fraction of a second to weigh his options. Sit next to the straight boy of his most illicit fantasies, which would only make things worse when he went home alone, or sit next to Blaise, whom he wasn't remotely attracted to, but was at least gay.

He sat next to Blaise.

Draco frowned but didn't say a word, where as his friend looked more than pleased and threw his arm lazily across Harry's shoulders in a slightly possessive manner. This didn't ease Draco's frown in the slightest.

Harry felt slightly uncomfortable, but didn't say so. It was better, he assumed, than letting himself get too close to the unattainable Slytherin. "So, Potter, I didn't know you were gay." Blaise said, leaning in closer than what was needed, even in the loud club.

Harry moved back slightly and couldn't help but notice Draco's mouth twitch into a slight smile at the minor rejection. "Erm, yeah, well. I mean I knew for sure at the end of school." He purposefully left off the fact that it had been the other boy sucking Draco's cock that sealed the deal.

Draco cut off the other boy's reply with his own. "I thought you dated the she-weasel after school."

"Nope," Harry answered simply, shaking his head. "She started dating Neville about a month before we graduated."

Draco apparently had nothing to say to that. He just stared at Harry, a slight smile curving on his lips. Harry took a minute to study the Slytherin. His hair was slightly longer, but just as pale, almost white, as his skin, which was currently glistening in the glow of the lights. He had a sheen of sweat all over his face and neck from dancing, and he looked stunning.

He was wearing a light blue collared shirt that brought out the lighter shades of gray in his eyes. He watched Harry through thick blonde eyelashes and Harry couldn't help but remember the way they fluttered when he was close to climaxing.

A slow blush crept up Harry's cheeks and Draco smiled wider. Blaise seemed oblivious to the whole exchange.

He had to do something to take his mind off of Malfoy. "So Blaise, how did you get Malfoy, out to a gay club?"

Blaise chuckled, but Draco seemed confused by the question. "How do you know I'm not gay?" he asked, before Blaise could answer.

Blaise and Harry both laughed at that, and Draco just rolled his eyes and leaned back into his seat. "Fine, fine. Have your big gay joke at my expense."

Blaise pressed himself a little closer and Harry tried not to cringe away. That Slytherin really wasn't his type. "I just have a pretty good feeling that you're not gay, Malfoy," he said at last, again leaving off the reason he knew he was right.

Draco only shrugged and watched Harry closer. His eyes kept flicking over him, as if looking at all the differences in Harry's own looks since the last time he saw him.

His hair was also slightly longer, the same pitch black, but long enough that it curled up slightly on the ends. His famous scar was hidden with glamour from his forehead, leaving the skin smooth and unmarred. He was slightly rough and unshaven, his facial hair casting a slight shadow over his square jaw. He no longer wore glasses, but instead used a vision charm to keep his eyesight perfect. Harry's tee shirt was a faded red with a dark gray skull graphic that graced the shoulder and flowed down into intricate swirl patterns until the design faded away at his waist.

"You would look better in green," Draco said offhandedly.

Harry laughed. "That's a very Slytherin assessment."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Because of your eyes, scarhead. Your eyes are the most magnificent shade of green. I can't believe I never noticed before…" his voice trailed off and he looked sheepish, like he said something out loud that he hadn't intended to.

Harry's lips quirked into a smug grin. "That's because when I'm angry they get really dark, almost black, and whenever I looked at you I was usually angry."

Blaise laughed.

"But you're not angry with me now." The way Draco said it, Harry knew he wasn't asking, he was telling.

"Clearly," Harry responded, still looking slightly smug. "Should I be? Are you planning to rat me out to Rita Skeeter?"

Draco cringed. "No, I wouldn't do that."

His honestly caught Harry slightly off guard. "Why not?"

"You saved my life. I owe you one," he said simply.

A bark of laughter escaped Harry's lips. "One?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Okay, so I owe you a few, I did save you that once though, when your band of ragamuffins got captured and taken to the manor. I could have given you up."

Harry nodded in concession. "Why didn't you? I was always curious."

Draco's lips formed into a tight grimace and he shook his head, unwilling to answer.

Blaise looked incredulously at Draco. "You knew it was him? Your father is-"

"Never going to hear a word about it," Draco interrupted, finishing his friend's sentence in the way he preferred it to end. He scowled at his friend and looked back to Harry. "Father's not terribly happy with me. I refused his offer of a lovely new bride this afternoon."

Blaise chuckled. "I'd say he's a little more angry than you make it sound. I heard lots of yelling when I answered your floo call."

Draco shrugged. Harry couldn't understand why Draco would do that, the Slytherin he knew kowtowed to his father's every whim.

Harry shrugged too. "What's he going to do, you're an adult, and it's not like he can make you marry her."

"Exactly," Malfoy said with a grin.

Blaise shuddered. "Apparently neither of you has met Lucius Malfoy. He can make anybody do anything."

"Not Harry," Draco responded quietly.

Harry didn't know what threw him off more, the fact that he had practically just received a complement from his arch nemesis, or the fact that he used his given name. Either way, this was not working. He needed to get away from Draco, and fast.

"Erm, I'm going to the loo," he said quickly and practically ran in that direction. He could faintly hear Draco's soft chuckle behind him.


Harry splashed cool water on his face and stood staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the lust filled moans and groans coming from the stalls behind him. He needed to get out of there and go back to his flat. Draco was just too alluring with his pale hair, his soft lips and his luminescent skin.

"No, those are exactly the types of things that you don't think about the straight boy who used to be your biggest rival in school," Harry chastised himself quietly.

"What types of things shouldn't you be thinking about me?" Came an unmistakable drawl from the doorway.

Harry just stammered, unable to form coherent words, as he looked at the smirking boy in the mirror. "Nothing," he said at last.

In a moment, Draco was directly behind him, his sweet breath ghosting over Harry's skin. He leaned back slightly into Draco's body, and melted against him as he felt the Slytherin's hot mouth trailing down his neck. It was more sensual than Harry's most vivid fantasy.

It was that thought that made Harry's body go ridged as he pulled away from Draco. This was the stuff of his fantasies, and it was never meant to come to life. He had known for years that it never would. He whirled around to face the Slytherin. "What the hell are you doing?"

Draco looked amused. "I was kissing your neck."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, I get what your doing, my question is why?"

A look of confusion drifted over Draco's sharp features. "Because I want to?" he responded, looking at Harry like he didn't know how to answer.

Harry shook his head. "You're straight Draco, or did you forget that small bit of information?"

Draco laughed seductively, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe you can change my mind." He leaned in again, but Harry cut him off, placing his palm against Draco's chest and pushing him away.

"No… no I've already seen how that works. Afterward you'll just tell me that I had my chance to change your mind and to sod off," he said, mimicking Draco's words from the bathroom that night years ago, the words he had eavesdropped on.

The confusion deepened on Draco's face and he took a step back. "How do you…" he trailed off.

Harry sighed. "I was there, I saw what you did to Blaise, and I'm not going to let you do the same to me. I know this is all a big joke to you, but this isn't some game to me Malfoy, it's my life."

Malfoy looked stricken. "How did you see that?"

"It doesn't matter how I saw, I just did. Look, I need to get out of here," Harry said quickly, rushing to the door, leaving a dumbstruck Draco in his wake.


Harry deftly avoided the 'Wooden Broomstick' after that night. It wouldn't do to dwell on things that could never happen, and all Malfoy was, was a distraction. He had carefully built an easy, happy and balanced life for himself, and he wasn't going to let a rejection from Draco sully his life.

It had been Harry's biggest fear, to be on the receiving end of a rejection as thorough as Blaise got from Malfoy that night. He had envisioned himself in the boys place, having given a piece of himself to the blonde, only to be laughed at a thrown out like rubbish.

It was that fear that made Harry keep clear of the blonde. Draco was bad news. Harry had no idea what came over him in the club that night, but he wouldn't allow himself a repeat performance. As much as he was attracted to Draco, more than he had ever been attracted to anyone in fact, he couldn't trust him, or his motives.


Harry hated, more than anything in the world, a Ministry ball. As an elite member of the Auror department, not to mention one of the most famous wizards in Europe, Harry was invited to all of them, but rarely ever attended an event unless coerced.

That weekend was the World Quidditch Cup celebration ball, and was the only event that Harry would willingly accept an invitation to. He and Ron planned to go and mingle with the team owner and players and Harry was genuinely looking forward to it. He had been dreadfully bored since the night he ran into Draco. He would only go out to muggle establishments for fear of coming across the blonde again, and it just wasn't the same.

Friday evening found him looking at his reflection, all dressed and ready to go. He wore a dark gray pinstripe suit instead of dress robes, with a black silk shirt and emerald green tie. As he smoothed the fabric down his chest he was reminded of Draco's assessment that he would look good in green.

The slimy git was right of course, and Harry was about to change the tie when a faint pop sounded from the living room. Ron had arrived. He begrudgingly left the tie in place and went out to meet his friend.

Against all odds Ron had gotten even taller after they graduated. He stood in front of Harry's fireplace in plain black dress robes with burgundy accents on the sleeves and collar. He looked terrified.

It was the same every time Ron got to meet with celebrities. He would sweat and babble and act awkward, but he still had fun. Usually he lightened up after a bit, especially if the celebrities recognized him as well.

Ron and Hermione were not the targets that Harry had been in the media, but they certainly saw their fair share. Their wedding alone made all the newspapers.

"How's Mione?" Harry asked politely as he walked into the room.

He grinned widely. "Won't be too long now, any day really. Mum is with her now, and I promised I wouldn't be out too late." He was so happy to be starting a family, and Harry was slightly envious. It seemed that the family life was not in the cards for him.

"I'm sure Molly will take good care of her until I bring you back safe and sound," Harry chuckled.

They made their way into the oversized fireplace and each clearly spoke their destination before stepping in and through to the large Ministry ballroom.

House Elves were scurrying around taking coats and hats and the two men passed slowly through the crowd into the main hall. Ron was chatting excitedly about all the players he wanted to meet when something caught Harry's eye from just inside the room.

A group of wizards were gathered around in a circle talking to Victor Krum. It wasn't the former Durmstrang student that attracted his attention though; it was the pale blonde standing next to Victor.

Harry froze, not sure which approach to take, to pretend he hadn't seen him and try to avoid him the entire night—which seem tedious—or feign illness and leave Ron to go the party alone, which seemed mean.

The choice was taken out of his hands however, when Draco looked up and saw Harry by the entrance. He stared for a long moment, which made Harry more than a little uncomfortable, and then dismissed himself from the small group and made a straight line for Harry.

He was also wearing a suit instead of robes, and looked entirely edible. The suit appeared to be a simple black tuxedo with satin trim, and though basic, it was tailored to fit perfectly. His shirt was black silk, and reminded Harry of his own, but Draco had left his unbuttoned a quarter of the way down, and instead of a tie he wore a silver and black lacquer necklace, which fell down under the shirt hiding the end of it from sight.

He stood out from the rest of the crowd in every way, and seemed like he had left a runway show in order to attend the Ministry ball.

Harry could smell the subtle fragrance of expensive cologne as Draco approached. His smoldering gray eyes took in every inch of Harry as he made his way over to stand directly in front of the boy and his friend.

"Weasley," he said as he nodded his hello to Ron.

"Malfoy," Ron muttered not as politely in response.

"Well, Potter, don't you clean up nice." He was still looking at Harry intently, not even trying to mask it.

"Er… thanks Malfoy. You look good, too." Harry tried to stop meeting Draco's gaze but couldn't seem to look away.

"Weasley, I was speaking with Ragmar earlier, and he was talking about the war. He mentioned wanting to meet you. I told him I wasn't sure if you were coming, but I would send you his way if I saw you," Draco mentioned casually.

Ron grabbed his shoulder tightly and nearly squealed in Harry's ear. "As in Ragmar Dorkins, manager of the Chudley Cannons?"

Draco nodded. "The one and only. He's right over there next to the bar talking with Gudgeon, right now," he said, pointing politely in the direction of a thin man in orange robes.

"I'll see ya later, Harry," Ron shouted as he made his way over to the brightly colored figure in the corner.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You just made all that up didn't you?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure Dorkins will be pleased to meet such an… enthusiastic fan of the Cannons."

"I don't know what you're up to Malfoy, but-"

Draco cut him off with a pale finger pressed against Harry's lips. "You've been avoiding me haven't you?"

The question took Harry of guard. "So what if I have?"

"To what purpose?" Draco asked, leaning a little closer to Harry.

"I… I just… Malfoy, just leave me alone, okay?" Harry groaned and tried to move around Draco to find Ron.

The Slytherin chuckled lowly and held fast to Harry's arm. "I don't think you really want me to leave you alone."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, and what is it you think I do want if you know me so well?"

Draco lifted an elegant blonde eyebrow and let his gaze bore into Harry's. "That tie looks… delicious on you."

What the fuck was going on? Harry had successfully avoided the prat for weeks and here he was saying things like his tie looked delicious. Who said things like that? Certainly not straight men, and certainly not Draco Malfoy, at least not to people like Harry.

"Malfoy, what are you playing at?" Harry asked at last.

Draco rolled his eyes and took a half step back, looking over Harry appraisingly. "I thought it would be obvious by now that I'm making a play for you."

Harry huffed and turned to leave, heading quickly to the fireplaces in the back of the room. He couldn't take it anymore. Malfoy had gone insane, or was trying to trick him into something, or trying to get a juicy story for Rita Skeeter. Either way, Harry wanted no part of his schemes.

He shouted his flat address and stepped in, finding himself back in his own living room. He hoped Ron wouldn't be upset with him. He kicked off his shoes and padded back o his bedroom, slipping off his suit jacket along the way. He threw the jacket over the edge of the bed and sighed. Malfoy was going to be the death of him. Hopefully he had finally gotten the point and would leave Harry alone.

"Aw, you started without me." The voice startled Harry and he turned around to see Draco leaning against the doorjamb pouting, and looking at the suit jacket on the bed.

"Malfoy, how the hell did you get here?" Harry shouted, incensed. Something about seeing Draco in his bedroom doorway made his whole body heat up and his gut turned to warm honey.

He shrugged elegantly and took a step toward Harry. "I followed you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, muggles would call that breaking and entering."

Draco laughed. "Well, then I suppose it's a good thing I don't associate with muggles, plus… I didn't break anything, so I think it would just be called entering."

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and leaned back against his bed post. "What is it that you want exactly, Malfoy?"

"Besides you?" He asked.

Harry rolled his eyes again. "Right, besides me."

Draco looked at him for a moment, then let his eyes wander the room. "You have a nice place here, Harry," he said, seemingly ignoring Harry's question. The Gryffindor didn't notice though, because he was too caught up with the fact that Draco had called him 'Harry'- again.

"Erm, thanks," he replied, fidgeting slightly.

"Modern, clean lines… very unexpected," he said as he wandered through the room, picking up photos from the dresser and peaking into Harry's closet. "Merlin, Harry, I think your wardrobe is bigger than mine!"

Harry laughed, feeling less awkward with Draco wandering around his bedroom than he should have been. "What was it you were expecting exactly?"

Draco laughed casually. "I figured your place would look like some overblown Gryffindor common room."

"So… what exactly are you doing thinking about my place and what it might or might not look like?" Harry asked, a subtle smirk forming on his lips.

Draco blushed, just a hint of pink rising in his cheeks, and it made Harry's cock twitch. Merlin what he wouldn't give to see Draco naked and splayed out on his bed, blushing like that for him.

Harry shook the thoughts from his head, but didn't notice that Draco had come back around to stand in front of him. Harry swallowed thickly and reached his hand up to adjust his tie, he was suddenly feeling an inability to breathe.

"Here, let me," Draco demanded huskily, as he slid the knot loose and slipped the tie over Harry's head. His long pale fingers went for the buttons on his shirt next, and Harry didn't push him away.

Everything in his mind was screaming at him to make Draco stop. If he didn't stop him soon, there would be no turning back and Harry would have to face that fear, that rejection, which had plagued his mind for years.

Draco finished with the buttons and slid the soft shirt from Harry's shoulders, letting the silk trail down his arms luxuriously. Draco unbuttoned the last of his own, and threw his own shirt to mingle with Harry's on the bed.

It was then that Harry saw the scar on Draco chest, rosy pink against the pale white of the rest of his flesh. Harry gasped and tried to pull away; mumbling an apology, but Draco held him fast and shook his head. "It was a long time ago," he whispered softly in his ear, then let his lips and tongue create a fiery path down Harry's ear and neck.

Harry tipped his head back and moaned, which only seemed to spur Draco further as he nipped and sucked his way down Harry's chest and stomach. Harry's body was like a live wire, his fantasy come true, and standing in the form of the iridescent angel in front of him.

When he opened his eyes to look at the lovely blonde he noticed the flecks of silver mingled with deep pewter gray in his eyes. He cupped Draco's face and pulled him into a crushing kiss. Draco made a noise low in his throat that tightened things deep inside of Harry and eliminated any possibility of stopping before he was too far gone.

Something about kissing Draco felt… right, like he had just come home for the first time in decades. He wanted more, and as the taste of Draco's mouth wafted over his tongue, he took more. He pressed his entire body against the Slytherin's and assaulted his mouth with feverish intensity.

When they finally broke to breathe, Draco's eyes were even darker than before, filled with lust and yearning. Could it be that Draco really did want him?

He decided at once that it didn't matter, as Draco's hands removed Harry's belt as well as his own. He ran a pale hand over the bulge in Harry's trousers, causing him to gasp. Deft fingers removed his trousers and Harry stood, in his green silk boxers, feeling quite vulnerable.

Draco smiled lustfully in appreciation of the sight in front of him. "I knew you would look good in green," he murmured, as he ran his hands over the soft fabric. "A Malfoy is never wrong."

Harry was about to roll his eyes and make a snide remark, but was cut off when Draco took his mouth in another passionate kiss. Harry groaned and pressed against him, his fingers finding the clasp to Malfoy's trousers and letting them fall to the ground.

When he pulled back from the kiss to look at the mostly naked blonde, he chuckled. "Draco, are you aware that you're wearing burgundy knickers? Bloody Gryffindor," Harry murmured smiling.

Draco smiled back. "Are you aware you just called me Draco?"

Harry's eyes went wide. Had he? "Erm… sorry…"

Draco laughed seductively. "Don't be, I like the way it sounds from your mouth. Maybe later you'll scream it for me?" He winked and pressed himself against Harry, pushing them back into the bedpost.

Draco reached down and removed Harry's boxers. He stepped back a few paces, leaving him naked and standing awkwardly, and eyed him appreciatively. "Do you have any idea how hot you are, Harry?"

All he could do is laugh and roll his eyes in response before Draco was on his knees in front of him.

Harry's cock was fully erect and straining for attention. Draco grasped it tightly at the base and licked his lips, sending a chill running down Harry's spine. His stormy gray eyes met Harry's and he spoke in a sultry whisper. "Are you still confused about my sexuality, Harry?"

Harry gave a choked whimper in reply as Draco took his cock into his mouth, slowly licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Harry's head lolled back and his eyes fluttered shut as waves of pleasure took hold.

Harry tried to refrain from thrusting into the blonde's mouth, but couldn't stop himself. After a few strokes Draco pulled back, gripping Harry's hips tightly. "Harry, you're a little… large… to be fucking my throat. Just relax, I'll take care of you, I promise."

Harry shot him an apologetic look and clutched the bedpost when Draco's hot tongue assaulted him again. He absorbed the sensations, savoring each moment he was there with Draco, a part of his mind knowing it would probably be the last time he would experience this bliss before it all came crumbling down.

When the movements stopped, Harry whimpered and looked down. Draco was smiling like a well-fed cat and stood up, one hand still holding Harry's throbbing cock firmly.

Harry nearly growled as Draco squeezed him once and then stepped away. Harry grabbed him and pulled his face up to his own, crushing his lips to Draco's. He could taste himself in Draco's mouth and it made him shudder. Draco moaned against his mouth and pulled away.

Harry wasn't letting go though, and whirled Draco around, pushing him down gently to the bed. Draco's eyes went wide as Harry stalked on hands and knees up Draco's body, like a predatory animal, straddling and pinning him to the bed.

In one quick movement he removed the last offending article of clothing from Draco's body and looked down at his prize.

It was better than Harry could have ever imagined, having the beautiful Slytherin splayed out on his bed, naked and quivering with pent up passion. His cheeks still held the hint of pink, which darkened as Harry's eyes swept over his pale form, taking in every inch of exposed flesh.

He trailed soft fingers across his chest, following the path of the scar marring Draco's otherwise perfect skin. Draco shuddered beneath him, and Harry shot him a subtle grin. "You are so beautiful…" Harry whispered, his voice trailing off as he leaned in to kiss Draco softly, gently.

The kiss was much different from the earlier ones, which had been crushing and desperate. Harry took his time, lingeringly pulling at Draco's bottom lip and running the tip of his tongue along his top lip, a soft press of lips, a gentle caress, and each new motion sent shaking waves and guttural moans from each of the men.

He kissed a trail down Draco's chest, pausing only when he got to his swollen prick. Harry ran his tongue from head to shaft and Draco arched his back, mewling. With a satisfied smirk Harry took Draco's cock into his mouth, which elicited a shocked hiss from the Slytherin, and kept his eyes locked on his stormy gray orbs while he sucked him.

Draco's eyes didn't break the gaze as Harry lapped and sucked and twirled Draco's cock in his mouth. It was as if they were one person, each feeling the pleasure of the other, each drenched in simultaneous ecstasy.

Harry let his fingers move down, brushing the cleft of Draco's arse, his index finger lingering over Draco's puckered hole, caressing the soft skin, making the blonde whimper and writhe. Harry slipped the finger inside, and Draco thrust down on it, impaling Harry's finger inside of him.

Harry then slipped in a second digit and Draco screamed out. He stretched the Slytherin wide and fondled him expertly as Draco, unable to sit still, bucked and rode Harry's fingers.

Draco's body was wracked with shuddering gasps as Harry hooked his fingers and pressed them firmly inside the Slytherin's arse. "Harry… wait…" Draco sobbed, his face echoing the pleasure Harry felt.

Harry stopped his motions but didn't remove his fingers, as he cast a questioning glance up at Draco. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No… I mean, yes," Draco pleaded, his voice thick with lust. "Harry, I want you to fuck me." His stormy gray eyes bored into Harry's as he spoke, not breaking eye contact as he watched the emotions, spurned by his request, play across Harry's face.

It went against everything Harry had assumed would take place when he decided to let him guard down and let Draco into his bed. Draco wanted him, and the possibility of that filled him with elation. He tried not to get too carried away though, who knew what the blonde would say or do the minute that things were over.

Harry nodded once and a moment later a vial of oil rested in his palm. A slow grin blossomed across Draco's face and he threw his head back and moaned as Harry removed his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock.

Draco was tight and hot. Harry hissed with pleasure as he slid himself deeper and deeper inside the Slytherin. Draco's nails raked down Harry's chest and clutched his hips, pulling every inch inside, writhing under the pressure.

Harry went slowly, wishing to savor the feel of being inside the literal man of his dreams. Not even in his wildest imagination could he have anticipated the flaming desire he felt in that moment, as he buried himself repeatedly inside the other man. He knew his sanity would be forfeit once the rejection came, but he removed all negative thoughts from his mind as he relished in the feel, the sound, and the taste of Draco Malfoy.

Draco groaned, his thick blonde eyelashes blinking lazily then shifted his weight and looked directly into Harry's brilliant green eyes. "You're not going to break me, you know?" he drawled, then hooked his legs around Harry's arse and pulled him deeper.

Harry started to say something, but shut his mouth abruptly, not wanting to sound like a ponce. He didn't want it to end.

A subtle smirk played on Draco's lips and he pulled Harry's face down to his own, kissing him fervently. "I want you to fuck me, Harry. I want you to fuck me so hard that I taste your cock," he whispered seductively against Harry's ear.

Harry moaned at Draco's words, pulled back slightly and slammed into him, wrenching a guttural cry from the blonde. Draco clawed at the sheets as Harry thrust into him over and over, each time harder and faster than the last.

Harry gripped the other boy's erection and stroked him in time to his own movements. After a few deft movements Draco climaxed, screaming Harry's name and clutching tightly around him.

Harry threw his head back at the feel of Draco's tightening hole and shuddered with his own climax, Draco's name on his lips a faint choked whisper, before collapsing on top him.

The stayed like that, a sweaty quivering heap on the bed for several moments before either of them moved or spoke. It was Harry that broke the silence. "I suppose you'll be wanting to make a quick exit now?"

A look of shock and disappointment crossed Draco's pale features before he replaced his carefully blank mask. "If that's what you want," his voice was unsure, as he moved to get up.

Harry's hand on his arms stopped him. "You don't have to go, I just meant… I thought… after…" Harry couldn't find the right words, and hated babbling like a fool in front of his former enemy turned lover.

Draco smiled, and it wasn't his usual smirk, but a true grin as he took his place beside Harry, cuddling up beside him and pulling the covers up over both of them.

The shock of those actions played across Harry's face as he looked down at the beautiful blonde god in his bed, his arms wrapped around him. Draco looked over, still grinning and kissed Harry softly. "I think that you were well and truly mistaken about me, Harry," Draco whispered.

Harry smiled sleepily. "I suppose I was."

Draco shook his head. "No, that's not what I mean."

"Oh?" Harry asked, still waiting for the rejection, unsure as to what form it would take.

"Remember, when you said you watched…Blaise and I?" he asked tentatively.

Harry groaned and nodded, preparing for the killing strike to his sanity, to his whole shakily confident world.

"Did you hear me, when I told him I was thinking about Pansy?" he asked, still looking embarrassed, which was not a look he often saw on the Slytherin.

Harry nodded, not sure where this line of questioning was headed, but happy that at least Draco couldn't kick him out. It was his house after all.

"I lied," Draco said, so softly that Harry almost didn't hear him.

"Okay… What does that have to do with me?" Harry asked, still confused.

Draco chuckled. "I was thinking about you."

"Oh," Harry whispered quickly, and then the impact of the words hit him all at once. "OH!" Draco laughed lightly, sitting up a little straighter. "You…" Harry's voice trailed off, not even sure what he would say to that.

"Was attracted to you…yes. All through school actually. I was a pathetic mess after you refused my friendship that day on the train. I… didn't realize what it all meant back then, but after you saved my life the day of the war… I knew then that I was in love with you. I told Blaise about it, and that's when he propositioned me. I wasn't trying to be cruel to him, he knew going into it that there was only one boy that I liked that way."

"You're in… love… with me?" Harry asked, ignoring everything else.

Draco stared at him a moment, not confirming nor denying his previous statement. Harry merely looked confused, a million emotions running through his head. Draco took his silence as disagreement, and unwrapped himself from Harry's rigid body. He slid out of bed and padded over to where he had thrown their clothes.

As he began pulling on his trousers, Harry snapped out of his trance. "Where are you going?" he asked, a little franticly.

"Home," Draco muttered.


Draco cut him off with a pleading look. "It's okay, Harry. Part of me knew it was too much to ask that you feel the same. In fact, I thought you were straight until I saw you at that club a few weeks ago." He bit down on his bottom lip to stop himself from rambling.

"But I do, feel the same way, I mean. I… I think about you all the time, ever since that night… I can't get you out of my head," Harry responded softly.

Draco stopped, measuring the honesty of Harry's words. "Really?" he asked, not daring to hope for it to be true.

Harry nodded and held out his hand to Draco. He looked at the outstretched hand for a long moment before taking it and being pulled back into bed. He fell directly on top of Harry and pressed a kiss into his forehead. "Does this mean that you're mine?"

Harry smiled and fully relaxed against the feel of Draco in his arms. "And you're mine," he stated with a finality in his voice.