A/N; Well, here we go- my first venture into the HP fandom. I'm ignoring the last couple of books and whatever else doesn't happen to suit me. I adore the Weasley twins, for instance, and I don't care to write a story where one of them is dead.
As always, the original series does not belong to me. The Harry Potter books and all related characters/settings are property of J K Rowling. I make no prophet from this shameless bastardization.
Warning! This story includes blatant homosexuality and mature content (lot's of mature content) If that bothers you in any way, you are urged to back out now.
And now without further ado...
Two pairs of eyes sparkled mischievously from across the counter. Harry glanced down at the innocuous looking package on the counter top between them and then back up at the twins.
"And this really works?"
"Of course!" Fred chirped.
"We've done extensive testing," added George. The two redheads shared a look that would have scared their little brother out of his wits.
"So what do you think?" they chorused together. Harry shook his head, letting out a little chuckle.
"I think you two are evil… and this could become one of your best sellers."
"Yeah, we know!" They chorused again.
"Of course," Fred went on, "as our most esteemed sponsor, you get an exclusive pre-release sample of the product."
"Oh, certainly," his brother agreed with an emphatic nod. Harry began to open his mouth in protest but was quickly cut off. "It's perfectly harmless. You may use it or distribute it at your own discretion. We would never presume to tell you what to do with it."
"Although, after what happened with that little joke last week…" Two identical left eyebrows rose suggestively as Fred trailed off. Harry paused, his mouth slowly sliding into a smirk.
"Is there enough in that package to get them all, at once?"
A few minutes later Harry was stepping out of the front door of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"You'll let us know how it worked for you, won't you now Harry?"
"Oh I see," Harry chuckled. "I'm the final test, to see how it will do for a customer in a real life scenario."
"Why, we wouldn't dream of conning our dear friend like that!"
"But since you have it you know, and should happen to use it, you may as well give a teensy critique." The twins grinned broadly and Harry shook his head.
"Either I'm the guinea pig or you two just want to hear all the juicy details."
"Oh! We'll have a slice of each thank you," Fred declared with a wink while George bounced delightedly on his toes. Harry laughed and waved goodbye to the cackling redheads before strolling jauntily off down the street.
It was good to be a seventh year, he thought to himself as he passed by some of the weird and wonderful window displays of Diagon Alley. He'd never felt such freedom before in his life. With Voldemort gone and the privileges (like leaving the school grounds, apparation and using magic anywhere he wished) that came with his majority, this year was seriously looking up. He hadn't felt this light and hopeful since he'd found out he was a wizard.
After a very satisfying, and tasty trip to Florian Fortescue's, he finally apparated back to Hogwarts, stopping at the gates and looking over the castle, whose many windows glowed invitingly in the twilight, and gave a contented sigh. Home, sweet home.
The gate opened easily at the touch of his hand and he hurried up the path to the door. Once inside, he shook off the evening chill and headed straight for the library. Hermione would almost certainly be there at this time of day and Ron would almost certainly be where-ever she was.
Sure enough he found them right where he expected, Hermione's nose buried in a book and Ron staring off into space and looking supremely board. Harry grinned and snuck up behind Ron to steal a glance over his shoulder at the essay that he was supposedly working on. The nearly empty parchment was becoming heavily speckled with ink as Ron's quill tapped a rapid rhythm against it.
"Coming right along I see."
Harry quickly stepped back, narrowly avoiding a heavy blow to the chin as Ron jumped about a foot out of the chair.
"Harry! By the Gods, don't DO that!" Ron's attempt to look stern faded in the face of his friend's laughter. It was nice to see Harry so relaxed. The sight was still kind of a novelty.
"I hope… that essay isn't due tomorrow," Harry gasped as he recovered from his fit of giggles. Ron's face instantly twisted into a grimace.
"Ugh! Don't remind me. Actually, I'm glad you're here. I could do with a break."
"Oh, I can see that," Harry answered innocently.
"Ronald, you are not even halfway through," Hermione's scolding tone broke in, causing a pained wince from her academically challenged boyfriend.
"I'll be right back 'mione, it's just a little break. My head needs clearing, y'know?"
"Honestly Ron," Hermione huffed, "if your head were anymore clear…"
"Alright, bye Hermione! I'll be back soon!" Ron sped out of the library, dragging a grinning Harry by the front of his robes. "You up for a trip to the kitchens mate? I could go for something sweet."
"Well, I basically had desert for supper," Harry answered, gently prying his friend's large hand from his robes. "I suppose I could have a bit of supper for desert."
"Oh look, Potter's trying to get his weasel to hold hands."
Both boys whirled about at the familiar drawl and Ron let out a low growl.
"Malfoy…" The Slytherin prefect ignored him, training his gaze on Harry.
"And here I heard you had a different girl for every night of the week. That is the word around the school. Is that not enough for you? You have to go after the blokes now too?"
Harry rolled his eyes at the reference to rumours. There were always about a hundred conflicting stories flying around about him. He knew that Malfoy knew better than to believe any of them. Actually, Malfoy hadn't been very antagonistic at all lately so this sudden attack came as a surprise.
"Maybe he just can't keep a girl," giggled Pansy Parkinson, who was closely shadowing her coveted Draco. Harry glanced around and noted that Pansy and Malfoy were accompanied by Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass.
"Daphne and I saw Potter sitting in Florian Fortescue's all by his little lonesome earlier. Poor ickle Potter, saves the world and still can't get a date."
"She's obviously just saying that because she can't get a man, much less keep one," Ron confidently concluded. Earning himself a death-glare from the girl who couldn't get Draco Malfoy to piss on her if she was on fire.
"Classic transference," Harry solemnly agreed. Ron wasn't sure what that meant but he nodded along. It was important to keep a united front. "Unless, she's finally managed to wear Malfoy down somehow."
"Yeah maybe he's finally realized he can't do any better," chuckled Ron.
Draco sneered at the very thought of settling for Pansy Parkinson. That Weasel would pay for both insulting and nauseating him. But his blood fairly boiled when Potter happily laughed along.
Most people assumed that Harry Potter was his most hated nemesis. This wasn't true at all. Draco hated Ron Weasley a thousand times more than anyone else.
He would have looked down on the redheaded street-urchin on principle anyway. But if the little bastard hadn't been so eager to move in on the friend that should have been Draco's, poisoning Potter's impressionable mind against him and thus causing his rejection and deep embarrassment, (and punishment) Draco may have paid him no mind. As it was… well, Draco had seen Potter first and that Weasel had ruined everything!
Weasley was always eager to insult him and Draco always meant to show that freckled wanker the true meaning of hatred, but he usually ended up getting distracted by Potter glaring or worse, laughing at him. Then obviously he would be forced to shut him up. He couldn't stand seeing that idiot make Harry laugh, especially at his expense.
"I think she might be right about you Potter. You do have a horrible track record with the ladies don't you?"
'Maybe that's because I'm not after the ladies you great prat,' Harry thought sarcastically. Seriously, why did such a pretty face have to come with such a grating personality?
"You couldn't even keep that besotted sister of his interested. Probably because you've been pining after the Weasel for years."
Harry's eyes widened in shock at the dead serious delivery of this accusation and Ron's jaw dropped comically. The rest of the Slytherins seemed to think it was hilarious though.
"Yeah he's really just a, pillow biting little ponce!" Nott exclaimed joyously. Draco continued on with a satisfied smirk at their expressions.
"Do you cry yourself to sleep when he goes off with his girlfriend? It must be tough, trying not to scream his name when you wank it in next room. I bet you have the nastiest wet dreams about him. It would account for how rundown the castle elves are. You must cause them no end of laundry."
"Ew!" the girls squealed.
"'Ew' is right," Nott added with a mock shudder. "There might not be a sheet in the castle that Potter hasn't sprinkled with fairy juice."
"Eeeew!" the girls squealed again.
"I might have known you liked the cock Potter." Strangely Blaise looked more speculative than disgusted, his words soft.
"You've got a very… creative mind Malfoy." Harry was looking a bit green around the gills. Sure he was gay, but Ron? Ugh! Shaking his head, he just turned on his heal and stalked off.
"Creative?! Sick is what it is!" Ron ranted, following Harry down the hall.
"Pleasant dreams Potter!" Draco called after them, though he scowled darkly when the towering Weasley threw a defiant arm around Potter, practically engulfing the small brunet in his show of solidarity.
Harry had accompanied Ron on a quick trip to the kitchens but failed to eat anything himself, observing in morbid fascination as Ron made short (and rather messy) work of his cake. He'd walked his friend back to the library and immediately excused himself, saying that he'd like some fresh air before curfew.
Flopping down on the grass by the lake Harry absently pulled the small package he'd received earlier from his pocket and weighed it in his hand. It was made up to look like a roll of innocent candies but, as with anything that came from the minds of the Weasley twins, it had a much more devious purpose than a simple sweet treat.
The colorfully wrapped roll actually contained five effervescent tablets that, when doused in water, would create an aromatic fume that caused potent erotic fantasies. The twins had suggested several scenarios wherein great amusement could be had at the expense one's intended target. A tablet could be tossed into a friend's shower for instance. Or you could drop it into your cup at dinner and covertly slide the cup as close as possible to the person next to you. They had cautioned Harry to avoid putting it into the target's own cup as he probably didn't want to see what happened when it was ingested. There was a disclaimer in small print on the packaging.
What Harry had in mind was something a little less public, and therefore less cruel. His dorm-mates had pulled a little prank on him last week. Harry had finally come out and officially admitted his sexual preference to them. They had claimed to have already guessed but congratulated him none the less with large smiles and semi-painful slaps on the back.
Then, to 'show their support' and possibly 'help him along in his quest for Mister Right', they had waited until he was just about to walk though the doors of the great hall for dinner and discretely spelled his clothing to be temporarily invisible to males only. Harry had walked through the hall to his seat with even more eyes staring than usual. He wasn't sure what was going on but the apparent shock all those guys' faces was pretty damn nerve-wracking. And oddly enough, all the girls seemed quite oblivious.
Draco Malfoy in particular was giving him the strangest look he'd ever seen. He couldn't quite discern the meaning of the expression but it was intense. Upon noticing that Malfoy was staring at his body, Harry finally looked down at himself and almost yelped. They were all seeing him in his skivvies!!
His friends had nearly died laughing. They had claimed it was all in good fun and the spell had worn off seconds later. However, Harry had decided to take a bit of harmless revenge by placing a tablet on each of their pillows as they slept and dripping a small amount of water on them.
He had been assured that the tablets dissolved extremely easily. Within a few minutes the dampness could easily pass for a drool spot. He could just imagine them all waking up in the night with the lights on and sticky sheets, red-faced and carefully avoiding the subject and each other's gazes. The mental picture brought on a little chuckle. After all, they did deserve some retaliation. He just wished he could get back at Malfoy so easily.
Harry's eyes narrowed on the package in his hand. Malfoy was the one who really deserved it. Considering what he had said, it would actually be a punishment that fit the crime perfectly. Harry also didn't much appreciate the ridiculous insinuation that being gay would make him more prone to erotic dreams than any other bloke.
Five tablets… He could just let it go and stick with his original plan. Or he could torment Malfoy with wet dreams for the better part of a week!
Thus Harry, armed with his invisibility cloak and the twins' latest invention, found himself in the dungeons a short time later, silently following Draco Malfoy to his room and listening to the password for future reference. Carefully and with a skill born of years of practice in the art of sneaking about, Harry slipped into the room half a step behind the other boy.
It seemed that Malfoy was quite tired tonight. Rather than taking the time to change, he simply removed his robes and transfigured his clothing into black silk pyjamas. After a brief trip to the washroom to brush his teeth, he dropped down on the huge bed and drew the covers up to his chin. Within minutes his breathing had slowed and evened out, letting Harry know he was asleep.
Harry tiptoed nervously up to the bed and found that he couldn't quite reach far enough without climbing up onto the fluffy monstrosity. Slowly he inched his way closer until he knelt within easy reach, directly next to the blond boy. As he quietly removed a single tablet from the package, he took a moment to lament the fact that Malfoy had a private room. He hadn't thought of that earlier and this would have been much funnier if there were dorm-mates to witness the event.
Ah well, Malfoy was the type to dwell on even a private embarrassment. He would probably brush it off this time but after a week, Harry was sure the proud Slytherin would be extremely frustrated.
Placing the tablet on the pillow just next to Malfoy's face, he drew out a vial of water and hesitated for just a moment. The artificial moonlight from the room's enchanted window softly lit a face that looked perfectly innocent and angelic in slumber.
'It's just a trick of the light.'
Harry knew that. Draco Malfoy was certainly a beautiful young man, but innocent? Hah! He had this coming, and it was just a harmless little prank anyway.
'Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy rivalry,' Harry mentally joked. Leaning over the pillow, he carefully dribbled a small measure of water on the tablet and sat back before he could inhale anything. He watched his target for any sign of change.
"What do you fantasize about Malfoy?" He murmured with a grin. "I hope it's about a pretty, naked boy, licking your arse like it's the best candy in the world."
A faint flush was already beginning to spread across the Slytherin's pale cheeks, painting them a very pretty pink. He shifted restlessly at Harry's whispered words and let out a soft whimper. Harry smirked and leaned in close to breath across Draco's ear.
"Pleasant dreams Malfoy."
It was hotter than Draco remembered it ever being in the dungeons, and dark, pitch black in fact. Draco couldn't see a thing, which made it all the more shocking when he felt cool hands on his skin. He couldn't hold back a gasp as they glided so very gently up and down, slowly exploring every inch of him. Why was he naked? And who was touching him?
"What do you fantasize about Malfoy?"
The voice was familiar, and soft enough not to startle him out of his building arousal. He knew that voice. Was it..? It couldn't be…
Draco forced his heavy lids to open just enough to see a hazy vision of Harry Potter, bare-chested and leaning over him, trailing tanned hands over his swiftly heating flesh. Harry smiled coyly at him.
"I hope it's about a pretty, naked boy, licking your arse like it's the best candy in the world."
Draco shivered at the words, his glazed eyes roving down the other boy's chest to see that nothing clothed his lower half either. His gaze caught and held on the proudly erect prick that rose from between the thighs that straddled him. Then suddenly the Gryffindor's hands gripped his hips and flipped him over in one smooth motion.
"Pleasant dreams Malfoy."
The whisper was so soft he wasn't sure he'd really heard it. His body moved as if they were floating in water. The hands left his hips to glide up his back and down again, continuing over his arse, thumbs sliding into the crease and brushing the sensitive opening there. Draco whimpered at the sensation and couldn't find the energy in his aroused and lethargic state to care.
Then Harry's mouth was breathing against his skin, kissing and nibbling the rounded cheeks of his arse alternately. Those lovely hands molded to his flesh, kneading for a moment before carefully spreading his cheeks apart and a hot little tongue crept down through the valley between, leaving a tingling wet trail. The clever tongue found his hole, causing him to jerk slightly. It twirled and lapped and massaged and generally drove him crazy.
He panted and whined and pushed back for more. His usually sharp mind could barely come up with enough coherence to think- 'Fucking Hell! Harry Potter is licking my arse! ...and it feels fan-fucking-tastic!!!'
Draco would never have thought he'd enjoy this sort of thing, but he wouldn't fight this now if you offered him a hundred galleons. His head felt lighter as his cock throbbed with more force. He was actually getting close, just from this. The sensation of Harry's slick tongue finally wriggling its way inside was all that he could take. He was torn between thrusting back and straightening like a jackknife as his orgasm shuddered through him like a tidal wave.
He heard a quiet giggling as he drifted lazily back down from the crest and he smiled at the sound. It was kind of cute.
When his brain began to come back on line, it occurred to him that he couldn't feel anyone touching him anymore. Then the floating feeling faded and he registered the soft pressure of the bed beneath him, followed closely by a subtle but growing discomfort - cool wetness, getting cooler and stickier.
Draco forced his eyes open and this time he was in his room in the dungeon, in his… soiled bed.
What. The. Hell!! Had he seriously just had a dream about Potter? Potter naked and touching him and licking his arsehole?! And he'd soiled his pyjamas and sheets over it?!! What the bloody hell!!!
Bolting from his bed, Draco scrambled for his wand and cast several cleaning charms in rapid succession on himself, his clothing and his bedding.
It was all Harry could do to stifle the roaring laughter that wanted to burst from his mouth while Malfoy freaked out, stumbling around and waving his wand furiously. Thankfully he had retreated from the bed as soon as the product had begun to take effect. Otherwise he would have been bowled right over at Malfoy's sudden, violent reaction. You would think this sort of thing had never happened to him before.
Harry double checked his invisibility cloak and leaned against the wall, out of the way. He would have to wait until the disturbed Slytherin settled back down before he could make his escape. But now, with the light on and the mess cleaned up, Malfoy began to pace about the room.
What was this? Draco wondered whether there might be more to the power of suggestion than he'd previously thought. Was it all that talk about wet dreams a few hours ago that had triggered this? He'd dreamed about Harry Potter though. The hazy picture of dark messy hair, and green eyes glowing with lust was lodged immovably in his brain. And Draco didn't usually remember his dreams.
He was finding it hard to think. What if he could never think straight again?! Potter might have ruined him! Blast that Potter! What was he doing in Draco's head? He wasn't even that attractive.
…Okay so he was bloody gorgeous and Draco may have stared at his body a lot longer than was strictly appropriate in the Great Hall last week, but that didn't mean he would ever, ever let the boy anywhere near his arse.
Perhaps it was that incident that had given his imagination this strange nudge. It's just that it was rather easy to picture him naked now. That thought didn't much help to calm him though. Now he was picturing Potter naked.
Finally he grew weary of pacing his floor and a still worried but very tired Draco Malfoy crawled back into his bed and silently prayed that he would be plagued with no more dreams of any kind tonight.
The next morning, Harry whistled merrily as he stepped out of his shower, dried and dressed himself and gathered his supplies for class. Ron came to collect him for the trip down to breakfast.
"Well now! What's got you in such a mood this morning?"
"Oh, nothing really," Harry replied. "I just feel like it's going to be a good day."
"Whatever it is, I hope it keeps up. It looks good on ya mate." Ron clapped him on the shoulder with a big grin and shoved him out the door ahead of him.
When they reached the Great Hall, Harry snuck a quick glance over at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was already seated, looking just as poised as usual and daintily spreading jam on his toast.
Harry shook his head. If that boy wasn't gay then Harry's gaydar had to be on the fritz or something. He could swear that Malfoy put off more homosexual vibes than almost anyone else in the school. Well, except maybe Michael Corner. That kid might as well have 'bend me over' embroidered on the seat of every pair of trousers he owned.
Draco Malfoy was trying his very hardest to pretend that he didn't remember anything at all about the previous night and he was mostly successful. He was a Malfoy after all and well trained in the art of suppressing whatever need be suppressed and acting totally unaffected.
All day long though, he would have it under control for a period of time and then he would catch sight of Potter and the visions would rise right to the surface again. He avoided the Gryffindor like the plague and stuffed it back down again but he found it harder to ignore his unease at the knowledge that he had to avoid him, that the mere sight of Potter could send his mind off into the gutter like that.
Oblivious to this inner struggle as Harry might be, he was still looking forward rather excitedly to 'visiting' Malfoy again tonight. While he had enjoyed the peace of life without Voldemort, there had been little to nothing in the way of adventure or excitement in his day to day existence for what seemed like a long time now. It was a bit of a thrill to be sneaking around where he knew he shouldn't be, not in any real danger but still feeling the risk of getting caught. It was fun.
Now that he had the password, he would wait until Malfoy was asleep before slipping into the room. He wondered if Malfoy's reaction would be as funny as last time. Perhaps the shock will have diminished. Then again, as the shock wears off, the frustration will only mount. He smirked, green eyes twinkling as he made a silent bet with himself on how long it would take the uptight Slytherin to crack. He might act calm and cool but Malfoy was not known for his patience.
At just after midnight, having successfully given the password, Harry tiptoed into Malfoy's room and edged his way carefully onto the huge bed as before. Shuffling forward on his knees, he wasted no time placing a new tablet onto the pillow beside the blond head that gleamed in the artificial moonlight.
'To have an over-reaction like that, he must be totally repressed,' Harry mused, as he unstopped the vial of water. Then he came very close to cracking up when his mind supplied a random picture of Malfoy walking in on his parents in action and the massive fit that would ensue. He'd probably end up rocking himself and muttering insanely in a corner.
Somehow Harry managed to contain his amusement enough to drip the water onto the tablet without making a big mess, despite his body's, still somewhat jerky, movements
'I doubt that five nights of being tormented with these dreams will actually get his mind to open up either. Well, he just doesn't know what he's missing.'
Slapping a hand over his mouth, Harry barely muffled a giggle at the thought of the entire gay community collectively clucking their tongues in pity for poor Draco Malfoy's lack of imagination.
"You should see what I can do with a toy or two," he whispered impulsively in his amusement.
Draco was floating in a familiar sea of blackness, feeling both light as air and heavy as lead. His body was warming and beginning to tingle when he heard whispered words.
"You should see what I can do with a toy or two."
In a blink, his own bed appeared from out of the darkness before him. Harry Potter, knelt upon the surface in nothing but a skimpy silk robe that did little to hide his slender figure or the peak of each hardening nipple.
The index finger of one hand tapped thoughtfully against the Gryffindor's full lips as he apparently contemplated an array of objects that were spread out on the foot of the massive bed. Emerald eyes lifted just enough to gleam wickedly in Draco's direction and his consternation was drowned in a rush of excitement when Potter's finger slipped teasingly into his mouth, the other hand tugging at the sash of his robe.
The slippery fabric fell open easily and both hands dove down between parted thighs to grasp the firm, pink shaft that immediately peeked out. Draco's mouth fell open in sheer disbelief, letting out a groan that was part arousal and part disappointment at not getting a better look at the impressive length.
A most becoming blush began to darken Potter's cheeks and quickly spread all the way down over his smooth chest as he continued to fondle himself with great enthusiasm. The motion soon had the useless robe sliding down off his shoulders and Draco's mouth watered with the desire to taste the sweet little nipples that were now fully displayed.
Removing one hand, Harry gave himself a little squeeze with the other while he brought his fingers up to lick at the pre-cum that shone on them. Draco's muscles suddenly found the capacity to move and he brought a hand of his own down to rub himself through his pyjamas at the provocative sight. His eyes wanted to take in everything at once, traveling swiftly between Harry's lapping tongue, and the flushed, wet head of what must be the prettiest cock he'd ever seen.
He was becoming so desperately scattered that he almost missed it when Potter reached out his newly cleaned fingers to the foot of the bed and retrieved a sizable dildo that somehow mimicked Draco's own erection quite recognizably. Was Potter seriously going to use that?
A quick glance at the other boy's face was met with a mischievous grin that seemed to answer his unspoken question with amazing eloquence. Draco looked on in awe as the second hand abandoned Potter's cock to help slick the chosen dildo with lube.
Perfect hips rolled minutely, and the boy's lonely cock made needy little thrusts into the air as if entreating Draco to come and take the place of its departed playmates. Draco was itching to answer the call but was promptly distracted when Potter raised himself on his knees, spread his thighs a little more and reached down, past his erection, grazing lightly over his balls, and farther beyond.
The Slytherin swallowed thickly, coming in closer without actually moving. His gaze trained intently on Potter's slick fingers that seemed to be massaging his entrance. He found himself frustrated, wishing for a better view and then, as if hearing his silent thoughts, Potter slithered down and settled himself back onto the bed, partially propped on the pillows. Small but shapely thighs fell gracefully apart as though Draco had directed them himself, allowing perfect access to the sight of two finger's slowly disappearing into the taut body.
Fascination had Draco's entire being firmly in its grip. His hand slipped unnoticed into the waistband of his pyjamas and worked over his prick in time with the motions of Potter's body that ground down onto his fingers.
Panting began to fill the air, interspersed with little gasps and whines. Draco couldn't quite tell if the sounds were of his own making or Potter's, but then he couldn't spare it much thought. He was much too preoccupied with the dildo that Potter was lining up with his hole even before he'd pulled his fingers out completely. Slick finger's had barely been removed before the dildo was pushing in. Draco's hand sped up in excitement as the small orifice greedily swallowed what was basically an exact copy of his own cock.
Once the entire length was settled inside, the lithe body before him began to undulate, slowly at first but picking up speed. Everything seemed to become hotter and hazy leaving Draco's addled mind adrift in the impression of Harry Potter, naked and glowing with perspiration, writhing wildly, moans and whimpers coming from nowhere and everywhere, reverberating in his head.
'My name…' he managed to think. 'I want… I want him to scream my name.' Before any such thing could happen though, Draco found himself falling over the edge into a shockingly brilliant explosion of light and sensation.
His eyes shot open, and he realized he was still cumming, his vision focusing slowly as his body calmed, giving an occasional shudder. A moment later, he registered the hand in his sticky pants, gripping his softening penis like a vise. Unlocking his joints, he removed his hand and quickly wiped the sticky seed away on the rumpled blankets with a disgusted sneer.
He flung himself out of the bed and grabbed his wand waving it furiously in a cleaning spell, using enough force to nearly strip the dye from the fabric. He whirled around and swiped up the first thing that came to hand, which happened to be a rather expensive potions book, and flung it across the room to smack soundly against the far wall and fall to the floor with a flutter and a dull thud. Then he took to pacing the room again, with more vigour (and growling) than the last time.
'Wow!' thought Harry. 'I'm glad I'm not leaning on that wall.'
It seemed that the fantasy was more intense this time. Was that the reason for Malfoy's anger? Why the git couldn't just take the dream as it came and be satisfied with the obviously pleasurable results was beyond Harry.
Then again, while this reaction wasn't as humorous as the worry and confusion of last time, it was a good deal more exhilarating. The raging blond dragon thrilled Harry's Gryffindor side, adding to the slight sense of danger.
Harry was grinning when he slipped back out of the dungeon room some time later.
"First comes denial, then comes anger…" he snickered quietly. The portrait directly above him stirred and Harry froze, but then it settled back down without waking and he scurried off to the tower with his grin still in place.
It was obvious the next day that Malfoy was still pissed. He wasn't even bothering to try to hide his irritability. Harry found it difficult to keep his eyes off the Slytherin Prince. His mind was distracted with the question of what exactly had Malfoy so worked up. It was just a dream. Why was he so bothered by his own sexuality? It wasn't as if an erotic dream or two made him any different from the next guy.
Honestly, it was a shame for someone as attractive as him to be so thoroughly against sex. Harry had to admit though, that Draco Malfoy was downright breathtaking when he was angry. The crackle of barely controlled energy, the tense carriage that made one feel he may pounce at any moment, the vibrant flash of those silver eyes, especially when they glanced Harry's way, it all thrummed up a response in Harry that he used to assume was outrage.
He'd been too young and then too paranoid and stressed-out back then. Now he was coming to recognize the feeling for the simple magnetism that it was. Malfoy could be infuriating but he was also fascinating and beautiful and certainly never boring.
As Harry sat idly in History of Magic, fiddling with his quill and ignoring yet another droning lecture on Goblin Wars, he caught himself mentally revisiting the events of last night. If he wasn't careful, he might just develop an addiction to all this. The sneaking about, the rebellious naughtiness and the smug sense of victory certainly gave him new insight into the Weasley twins' pranking addiction.
It also got him a little hot under the collar to think of watching Malfoy shimmying under the sheets, breaking out into a light sweat. Harry could call the image up perfectly, complete with the sighs and moans that escaped from soft parted lips. Oh yeah, it was hot. He almost felt guilty for witnessing such private moments. It wasn't what a good boy would do, but it was all part of the adrenaline rush. And Harry really liked that rush.
The problem was that once in a while, he wondered what or rather who Malfoy dreamed about that got him so excited and made him cum so powerfully. Harry knew full well that he shouldn't be thinking about that. Such thoughts led to certain 'what ifs' that should definitely be left alone. Nothing good would be met on that road.
"Bloody stupid Golden Boy," Draco grumbled to himself. Potter had been eyeing him at every opportunity all day.
"You'd think he was checking me out or something." He steadfastly ignored the odd little fluttery feeling in his stomach that accompanied that thought and huffed. Annoying as all hells, that's what it was.
"What's he looking so dreamy about anyway?"
The boy's distinctive eyes had glazed over and drifted off moments ago, giving Draco a break from the nearly constant glances. For some reason though, he couldn't seem to enjoy it. Now would be a good time to do some serious ignoring of Potter's existence but instead, Draco kept looking over across the aisle at him.
He was leaning his messy head on one hand and staring blindly off into a corner. Draco's eyes followed the tip of the feather quill as it brushed softly over the entire length of the boy's fine jaw and then slowly back again. Potter's head tilted back a little, letting the feather trail teasingly down his smooth throat
The agitated Slytherin clenched his fists. He could almost feel the gentle tickle on his own skin. That blasted Potter was trying to drive him mad!
He couldn't believe it. Now the Gryffindor was beginning to blush right before his very eyes! Was he actually fantasizing, right here in the middle of class? Did it have anything to do with the way he'd been looking at Draco up until just a few moments before?!
No, of course it didn't. Dear God's, he had to get a hold of himself! As if Harry Potter would ever have such thoughts about him. That he should be so lucky! …er, un… so unlucky. Right…
"Bloody stupid Golden Boy!"
Harry crept soundlessly across the heavy rug that padded the cold floor of Malfoy's room. The grin was already sliding across his face as he took in the now familiar sight of the young man's face, relaxed in his calm, unsuspecting slumber.
Carefully crawling over the bed, he went through the routine motions and waited. It wasn't long before he could tell that the product was taking effect and he was just about to back away when it occurred to him that he didn't feel as pumped up over this as he had the previous times.
Perhaps it was because he was too confident. He knew now that if he moved away at this point and stayed back, standing in a certain spot, he had practically no chance of getting caught. Or perhaps it was just the monotony of repetition.
For whatever reason, he had the sudden desire to do things a little differently, to be a little bolder. He wanted to see how far he could push this.
Deciding that Draco would likely jump out of the same side every time and therefore he was less likely to be slammed into on the other side, Harry opted to go around rather than crawl over top. His weight tugged down the blankets, dragging them briefly over Draco and setting off a shiver and a moan. Harry paused at the sound and realizing what was happening, his attention was drawn to the noticeable tent that was growing in the sheets at Malfoy's groin.
'These covers aren't exactly light,' he mused. 'That's got to be really hard to lift them like that… and big.' Hit by a sudden flood of the curiosity that had been lingering at the back of his mind and would no longer be denied, he inched closer. Just a little peek couldn't hurt.
Gingerly, he hoisted the covers up just an inch or so and pulled them down slowly until he could see the straining fabric of the silk pyjama bottoms that contained an obviously sizeable erection.
The excitement was building again. Harry's blood was rushing faster, bringing a pleasurable tingle as he reached out to pinch Malfoy's waistband between thumb and forefinger of each hand. Holding his breath, he gently lifted the garment up and over, pupils dilating at the utterly perfect specimen of manhood that was revealed.
"Wow," he whispered aloud, without thinking. Draco whined quietly and squirmed a little, perhaps because of the cool air. Harry's fingers lightly caressed the warm skin of his hips, just above where they had been hooked in the pants.
"…look so good."
The soft murmuring seemed to rouse a reaction in the slumbering form. The hardened flesh bobbed as Draco exhaled audibly and a single pearl of wetness appeared at the tip. Harry licked his lips, only half restraining a groan.
"You make me want a taste."
Without even realizing it, his hand was already moving, reaching out from under the invisibility cloak and a lone finger barely brushed over the slit, swiping up the tempting droplet and bringing it to his mouth.
"Mmm, perfect," he purred as the flavor burst over his tongue. It seemed Draco probably favoured sweet over salty foods. Harry's tongue flicked out at his finger once more just to be sure he hadn't missed anything.
"…look so good. You make me want a taste."
The sparkle of brilliant green was the first thing that Draco could make out. Those eyes flashed at him hypnotically before the rest of his lover was slowly illuminated. Harry smirked up at him as he lowered his dark head.
"Oh please, yes!" Draco hoped to hell that the little tease was going to do what he thought he was going to do. A hiss escaped him as a hot pink tongue came out to glide all the way up the thick vein of his erection.
He gripped the sheets that seemed to have conveniently appeared beneath him and shuddered at the harsh gust of warm breath from Harry's chuckle.
As much as he was enjoying the show, his head just fell back limply, jaw dropping when searing wet heat closed over him. The tongue lapped and swirled dexterously and cheeks hollowed as Harry attempted to suck every bit of flavor from his dripping cock. Merlin on a stick, that was gooood!!
The pale Slytherin had begun to pant and wriggle in earnest and Harry was practically salivating. Who knew how much more enjoyable this was up close? He perked up, leaning forward unconsciously when Draco's mouth dropped open.
The first word that Draco had ever uttered in this situation, brought Harry abruptly out of his daze. What was he doing?!
He'd actually touched him! He was touching someone without their permission. The oblivious boy begging his dream lover for more brought home (with a resounding crash) how unwanted he was here. It's not as if Draco was begging him. (Never in a million years!) He was …molesting Draco in his sleep while he… dreamed of somebody else.
Harry backed up off of the bed as quickly as he could possibly manage without disturbing its occupant and practically ran over to the corner of the wall that he should have been occupying from the beginning. This was unacceptable. It was funny when all he was doing was causing a little frustration, but things went way beyond a harmless prank if he… took advantage of the poor victim in his vulnerable state.
Not long afterward, Harry was just calming down and coming to remember that he probably should have covered Draco back up, when the body on the bed began to tense in a way that meant it was too late for that now. Draco's back arched up and Harry was once again enthralled by the hoarse cry and the streams of creamy fluid that jetted through the air a surprising distance, landing on the boy's silk covered chest.
Breathing heavily and still red faced, the Slytherin's silver eyes fluttered open. After staring blankly at the canopy above him for a few moments and catching his breath, he finally looked down at himself and groaned.
How had he managed to kick off his blankets and pull his pants down? He looked even more foolish this time than he had before. Merlin be damned, it was getting worse! He had just dreamt of Potter sucking him off and he'd just laid back and let it happen, begged for more even. Begged! Why?!
'What the bloody hell is wrong with me?!' he mentally wailed in despair. If he opened his mouth he might just scream. 'I don't deserve these kinds of problems! …Do I?'
Looking on as Draco just reached over for his wand and gave it a rather lack-luster wave to clean up the mess, Harry couldn't help the touch of amusement that seeped into him at the look on the blond's face. He inwardly giggled in spite of himself.
'The third step is depression.'
Draco's depression carried over into the next day. He was still a Malfoy of course, so he tried to hide it and did a better job than most people could ever have managed, but Harry noticed anyway. Coming from him, the slight downward slope of the shoulders and the occasional sigh, not to mention the lack of enthusiasm in Potions, spoke volumes.
Actually, Harry was feeling kind of sorry for him. Anger Harry could live with and even derive amusement from, but a downtrodden Malfoy gave him no joy at all. Maybe it was time to leave him alone. The poor thing had suffered enough retribution, hadn't he?
His guilt was troubling him. He felt like a terrible person. And that wasn't all. It was somewhat alarming to contemplate the depth of his attraction to Malfoy. There was obviously more to it than he'd previously thought. Now what was he supposed to do about that? No, it was probably best to quit while he was ahead and forget all about this.
Potter hadn't been looking at him as much today. Draco knew because he'd spent a good portion of the time watching Potter who didn't seem to notice.
'The tables have turned,' he thought sardonically as he lingered over his half eaten supper. 'Why am I staring at him anyway? You'd think I wanted to feed my monstrous imagination. Malfoy's do not moon over young men, especially half-blood Gryffindors. Oh why can't I just be normal? What is this strange affliction?'
When Potter got up and excused himself from the hall, leaving behind nothing for Draco to look at but Ron Weasley, stuffing his freckled face with his third helping of the night, Draco sighed once again and looked down at his plate. It took all of three seconds to decide that he wasn't hungry anymore and down his glass of pumpkin juice before getting up to leave.
"Excuse me a moment Potter. If I could have a word..?"
At the polite request, Harry paused in the entry hall just before the stairs and looked back. To his surprise the speaker was none other than Blaise Zabini.
"Um, I suppose so."
"I've been wondering. It's true isn't it, that you prefer the company of men?"
"Yes," Harry answered slowly. He was wary of where Blaise might be going with this but he'd already made the decision not to hide who he was. The Gods knew, people had enough false rumours and conjecture to sift through concerning him already.
Blaise smiled genuinely, surprising him once again.
"Well as disappointing as that will be for a great many females, I must say that I'm happy to hear it."
Harry's face heated at the mildly teasing remark. Was he implying…?
Blaise was stepping in with small, nonchalant movements that somehow still managed to make Harry feel that he was being hunted… and that it might not be such a bad thing.
"It may be too much to presume, I suppose, that you could possibly please me further by assuring me that you are unattached at the moment. Have you, by some chance, managed to avoid capture?"
He was quite close now and his voice kept lowering just enough that Harry automatically leaned even closer to hear.
Draco heard the smooth, seductive tones of Blaise Zabini on the prowl as he walked through the entrance hall at a pace just shy of trudging.
"Uh, well I uh… I guess I'm not really…"
His head jerking up at the very familiar second voice, Draco found his fellow Slytherin backing Harr… er, Potter up into the stairs. Potter was blushing and stammering and acting all cute while Blaise leered meaningfully and suddenly Draco Malfoy was pissed.
What the hell did Zabini think he was doing? And Potter! It was like he was just begging to be preyed upon! An irrational, inexplicable rage welled up and grew to uncontainable levels within seconds.
"My goodness Potter," he drawled, letting a disgusted sneer settle on his face. "Overthrowing the weasel so easily?"
Harry looked up, startled at Malfoy's sudden announcement of his presence. He was even more startled at the contemptuous expression on the blond's pale face. Where was this coming from? Despite the relatively calm demeanor, there were high spots of color on those cheeks that Harry had come to interpret as a sign that Malfoy was angry (or aroused but that didn't really apply here).
"It really takes next to nothing, doesn't it. Who would have thought you were such a desperate slut. Blaise, you aren't going to actually touch that are you?"
The last phrase descended into a subtle growl that was accompanied by a look in Blaise's direction that had the darker Slytherin swallowing nervously. Harry was too busy feeling shocked and utterly, almost painfully insulted to take note of this little byplay however.
"You incredible asshole! Where do you get off…"
"There's no need to get upset over a simple observation," Draco cut in. "We really must be going now. No worries though, if you camp out there a little longer, you can probably ambush the next unsuspecting bloke to walk through. Blaise?"
Caught between a fuming Harry and an obviously disgruntled Draco, there was really only one thing for Blaise to do.
"Yes, I think I shall adjourn to the common room for now. I do have some homework to get done. I'm sorry Mr. Potter. Perhaps we may continue another time."
Harry merely inclined his head, taking a small measure of pity on Blaise. The same could not be said for Draco. Any guilt or pity that Harry had been feeling for him had evaporated completely. That Bastard! How dare he?! And just what had crawled up his arse? Why would get so bent out of shape over Blaise Zabini… hitting on him.
…Was he jealous? It certainly seemed like the most likely explanation. He didn't want Harry and Blaise getting together. Did that mean it was Blaise Zabini that he wanted? Is that who he'd dreamt of each night? The thought sent a little pain through Harry's chest but he just used that to fuel his anger.
"So he thinks that just because he has some stupid crush on Zabini, he can get away with saying such horrible things to me? I can't believe I was thinking of letting him off easy. He deserves every blasted thing that he gets, and then some!"
Leaning over Malfoy's prone form later on in the night, Harry hesitated. This Draco seemed like a completely different being from the one who'd hurled outrageous accusations at him earlier, and could he really use someone else's behaviour to justify his own actions?
'But he is the same person. This is just a trick of the damn light! And besides, I'm not actually hurting him. I'm just giving him a little fantasy, about Blaise,' he thought, somewhat bitterly. 'In fact this isn't nearly punishment enough. It's hardly anything at all really. If anything, I aught to find something worse to do to him! Perhaps I should make the next one public.'
With grim determination, Harry completed his task and then sat back for a moment watching Draco grow breathless, his beautiful face flushing in that particular way. Now that he thought he knew who was causing this thaw in the ice prince, it didn't feel the same.
Harry couldn't deny that the effect was amazing, but what was so great about Zabini anyway? Sure, he was a smooth talker and admittedly easy on the eyes. Second best looking guy in the Slytherin house, truth be told. And of course Malfoy would want another Slytherin.
Dear sweet Merlin, he couldn't believe he was dwelling on this, but he was. Harry let out a sigh, his body slumping.
"I'm going to tell you a secret …Draco," he whispered with a tiny, wry smile. "…I wish you were mine."
"I'm going to tell you a secret …Draco."
Oh, his name! That was new. And it sounded really nice. It made Draco remember his desire to hear Harry scream it to the rafters. At this thought, the soft light came, making Harry visible as the bed appeared beneath them both. Draco shoved the smaller Gryffindor down, hovering above him with a wicked smirk.
"I wish you were mine."
Harry smiled a soft, sweet smile and reached up to wrap his arms around him tenderly, while Draco's eyes widened in surprise. A warm glow kindled inside the stoic blond and he sunk down to rest on top of the welcoming body, returning the embrace.
The name felt oddly pleasant, rolling off his tongue.
It was barely a breath but Harry was certain he'd heard it. All the air seemed to leave his body at once with the impact of shock.
But the name came again, a little stronger this time and Harry sucked in a much needed breath.
'Me?! He's dreaming of me?!'
His mind reeled. He would never have believed… but suddenly he could see the incident with Blaise in a new light. Could it really have been Harry that he was jealous over? Dare he believe such a thing? Maybe it was just that a dream-version of Harry had interrupted his good time.
A swift glance was enough to prove that nothing at all was interrupting Draco's good time. He looked completely relaxed. There was even a pleasant little smile on his lips. And Harry was the one making him look like this.
"That is so hot." Harry's grin had returned in full force. He pulled the cloak up off of his face and leaned over the prone form to cover that cute smile with his own lips, just a chaste brush that drew a tiny sigh from the sleeping boy before he backed off. He didn't want to wake him.
'He needs his rest,' he thought with a muffled giggle. In fact Harry was suddenly feeling quite generous, maybe he could even help him along a bit.
Barely reigning in his giddiness, Harry spread himself out on the bed beside Draco and began to whisper deliberately into his ear.
"Beautiful Draco… so big… I want to feel it inside. I want to feel you, Draco. Touch me… please."
This was nice. Harry was snuggled tightly against him, rocking their hips leisurely together, soft lips caressing his own.
The whispered endearment was so sweet. Then his amorous little Gryffindor was picking up the pace and Draco was swiftly growing harder.
"…so big… I want to feel it inside."
Gods! How much would Draco love to oblige?
"Touch me… please."
Oh! Begging, how wonderful! There was no way on earth he was going to refuse that, though just a bit of teasing may be in order. Draco had endured quite a bit of teasing himself after all. He slyly hid his leer in his companion's delectable neck.
Harry was thoroughly enjoying the shudders of arousal that overtook Draco's body with each provocatively whispered phrase. It was just amazing how his supposed rival was responding to him, dreaming of him. It was… It…
Oh bollocks! What was that?! He hadn't even felt it coming. Well it wasn't really very loud. Maybe… Oh hell, it was right by his ear. Of course it sounded loud.
Malfoy stirred and Harry froze in horror. Was he completely covered? He didn't dare move to check. Silver eyes blinked open blearily and Harry held his breath.
Draco found himself disoriented for a moment when his sexy little Gryffindor suddenly disappeared. He forced his eyes open and found himself alone in his room. What the… Damn it! Noooo! It couldn't stop there! He'd been so close to getting to touch. Harry had been begging him for it!
Harry begging…Oh Gods, that was sexy! He'd been right there in Draco's arms, grinding and pleading… Mmm…
Draco's hand drifted down, slipping under silken fabric and clasping his heavy cock, as it hardened even further. Oh yes, the things he would love to do.
A small part of him rebelled at what he was thinking and doing, but Draco drowned it out and abandoned himself to his imagination, picking up his fantasy where he'd left off. His body demanded release and while he could have, or probably should have come up with some other imagery to get off to, right now, only Harry would do.
Harry's mouth dropped open when Draco, now awake and aware, actually reached down to relieve himself. This was not the expected reaction at all. He was just going to go with it? Why wasn't Draco freaking out? He always…
Wait, had he been reacting that way, not because of the wet dream in general but because it was about Harry? Was this more proof that it had always been Harry? Of course it was difficult to dwell on such questions for long when Draco Malfoy was wanking it right in front of you. Especially when he was all flushed and panting and groaning in a way that had Harry throbbing in his own pants sympathetically.
It wasn't too long before Draco was tensing. He came with a strangled moan that was unmistakably Harry's name and his undercover audience was awed by the perfectly rapturous look on his face.
'Gorgeous,' he thought as Draco's sweaty body slumped back down. This was the first time Draco had allowed himself to bask in the aftermath, and the first time that Harry got to observe up close. Harry bit his lip to contain himself, feeling that he might just burst.
Well, this was it. He'd done the unthinkable. He'd just consciously gotten off to thoughts of Harry Potter. He'd cum with the savior's name on his lips, and he was actually awake at the time. There was no excuse for it at all now. He might as well accept it. He was most definitely attracted to Harr… er… Pott… oh fuck it.
What's more, the dream itself had been different this time as well. Harry had spoken his given name for the first time and Draco had liked that, a lot. They had cuddled and kissed like real lovers, and Draco had liked that too. Harry had also said that he wished Draco was his, in a way that hinted at something deeper and more meaningful than simple lust, and Merlin help Draco but that made him feel… something he should not have been feeling.
Did he really want more from Harry than a quick shag? In the spirit of self acceptance, he strongly suspected that he might. What a completely ridiculous notion. If a good smack to the face would have dispelled the useless desire, Draco might have actually endured it. Better to suffer that indignity than what Potter would inflict on him if this foolishness ever came to light.
Well, he may no longer deny it inwardly but, he would certainly never act on it. He was a Slytherin and a Malfoy. Only the most calculated of risks were allowable by his very nature. He simply didn't put himself on the line without being at least 98% sure of a profitable outcome and in this case the risk far outweighed the expected gain. No this revelation would have to remain a secret.
Harry had a lot to think over later on as he finally lay in his own bed. How long had Draco felt like this? It seemed so sudden. Had Harry just been blind to it for ages or was Draco just discovering these feelings now like he was?
Maybe he was getting ahead of himself here. One lustful fantasy didn't necessarily mean that Draco fancied him. So he might think that Harry was nice enough looking for a roll in the sheets (though Harry didn't really see it). That didn't mean that Harry would be his first choice. It was entirely possible that Malfoy just fantasized about lots of random people.
But no, if that were the case then he would be quite used to the whole scenario and he wouldn't have acted like the end of the world was near. And suddenly Harry recalled his earlier thought that Draco was only acting like that because of who he dreamed about, which meant that while he probably didn't usually fantasize, he wasn't as unnaturally repressed as Harry had previously supposed.
It was almost a certainty that Draco had been dreaming of him from the start. He felt an attraction if nothing else, but he hadn't been happy about it and had resisted forcefully. Tonight though, it had seemed like he was starting to give in.
Potter was watching him again today. This time it was a little different, less bold and assessing whereas before, he'd felt like he was being sized-up. There was something strange in the Golden boy's demeanor and he was more discreet, more shy. Draco would feel eyes upon him and turn to look but then they would flit away, usually to some spot on the floor to the side. There was also a good deal of blushing and the abuse of a poor, innocent lower lip.
This was making Draco very confused. If he didn't know any better, he might actually say that Potter was acting like someone with a crush. With last night on his mind Draco would have already had to exercise some serious discipline to ignore the Gryffindor, but like this… well this was just ridiculous.
He'd just come to accept his …'feelings' and then firmly decided to shove them aside regardless. Why did Potter have to pick today to act so bloody adorable?! He was making it extremely difficult not to consider the possibility that Harry may not be completely averse to a shift in their relationship. And he knew better than to think there was a possibility at all.
By the end of the day, Harry had come to a few conclusions. One was that Draco Malfoy was taking a new attitude toward him. Harry had been continually casting curious glances in his direction any time that he'd been near enough. It was rather embarrassing when he got caught at it now and then but he just couldn't seem to stop. The point was that Draco hadn't glared or sneered back at him once, not even towards the end when Harry imagined most people would have started getting annoyed.
This somehow wasn't quite as surprising as one might have thought, which made him think over the Slytherin's recent behavior. Actually, Draco had been fairly decent for awhile – at least since Voldemort's demise, and possibly even before that. Harry remembered that he had been taken aback by the outburst that had instigated this whole situation. Aside from that and the incident with Zabini, things had been almost boringly quiet.
It occurred to Harry that on both of those occasions, his sexuality and choice (or possible choice) of partners had been attacked. This supported his second conclusion. Draco did not like to see him close to other blokes.
There had never been any reason to suppose that Draco was against homosexuality. He wouldn't have looked twice if it had been anyone else, but if Harry was too physically close to anyone, (even a girl now that he thought back far enough) an irritable Malfoy always seemed to be in his face within seconds. This led to the third conclusion. Draco must be interested in him and this wasn't such a sudden change.
These fantasies hadn't just been a brief hankering for a one night stand. Sure his desire manifested itself as a rather illogical possessiveness, but he was a Malfoy. One can't expect miracles, and Harry had a feeling that Draco was capable of a lot more emotional depth than he once gave him credit for.
The final conclusion however, was that while Draco felt something for him and had changed much of his attitude, he had no intentions of ever making a move. It was obvious in his carefully controlled expression. He was going to try to ignore the whole thing by ignoring Harry himself as much as possible.
Well, that was exactly the sort of thing he would do. Slytherins protected themselves at all costs and it was easy to see that Malfoys in particular viewed emotions as a potential threat. Draco had probably decided that the odds weren't in his favour and given up before he could even begin. The prince of Slytherin simply lacked the courageous, impulsive nature that was so typical of Gryffindor.
Harry understood that much about Slytherins. On the other hand, his own personal experiences had taught him that often times the so called 'odds' weren't worth the parchment that they were calculated on. For instance, there was no way that a mere boy ought to have been able to bring down one of the most powerful dark wizards in remembered history, but Harry was living proof that in the end things could, and did, work out alright anyway.
Whereas Slytherins were cautious, sometimes to the point of paranoia, Gryffindors were apt to take the proverbial 'leap of faith', headfirst. Obviously things didn't always turn out for the better, but one would never know unless they tried. And if the situation were important enough, not knowing could be a fate worse than death to a curious lion.
It was certainly no fate that Harry was going to settle for. He had rejected Malfoy once when they were just ignorant children. Neither of them had known what they knew now, about the world, about each other or about themselves. Throughout all these years, even with the outward animosity, there was nobody who had fascinated him like Draco Malfoy and he was willing to bet that Draco had been just as fascinated by him. He had at least paid him more attention than anyone else. They were both practically obsessed.
Now there was a chance that there could be something different between them, something that promised to be infinitely more satisfying. If left to his own devices, Draco would let this opportunity slip through his fingers, so Harry would not be leaving it up to him.
That night as midnight drew near, Harry lay awake in his bed. It was almost the time that he would have pulled on his invisibility cloak and tiptoed down to the dungeons but he wasn't really planning on doing that tonight. He was no longer interested in punishing Draco after all. There was no justifiable reason to subject him to another dream. What would he even gain from it aside from frustrating them both? Still he was slightly tempted. He had rather enjoyed his nightly voyeuristic forays.
Harry leaned back against the headboard, turning the small package containing the final tablet over in his hands, regarding it in the way an ex-smoker might contemplate a stray cigarette. He fidgeted with the package for some minutes, examining every inch until his eyes passed over the small disclaimer on the side for about the sixth time and it's meaning finally struck him.
"Why wouldn't you just drop it in his own cup? Wouldn't that be less noticeable than moving yours all the way over?"
"Oh yes, that would normally be the best idea," George agreed.
"However, that would increase the chances of someone actually drinking it," his twin continued.
"This product is not meant for oral consumption," the two chorused together.
"Oh, would it make him sick?"
The twins sent him identical smirks before Fred clarified.
"Not exactly. We only mean to manipulate thought with this product but initial tests have shown that actually consuming it converts thought into action, so to speak. "
At Harry's confused look Fred just chuckled and George took over.
"It makes you even more horny and lowers one's inhibitions (or good judgment, if you will) to the point that they will basically jump the person they desire without notice or regard to the consequences."
"That's right, and you can see the problem with that. Your prank could suddenly involve some innocent bystander. Now, there's no need to look so horrified as all that. Nobody would actually get raped."
"Certainly not! If it were that dangerous then we couldn't even consider selling it to the public."
"We are quite fond of our lawful freedom."
"It wears off too quickly for things to get that far, but it does have the potential to cause problems. You can't always be completely sure who a person desires."
"It may not be the one they're currently dating."
"Or it may be someone who's already taken."
"…By a very big, very jealous fellow perhaps."
"It might be the timid, sheltered type."
"Ooh the trauma! They could be scarred for life!"
"That's why we have this nice little disclaimer on the package, you see?" The twins showcased the colorful package, pointing out the small message to a bemused Harry.
Harry blinked, the memory circling through his mind. That would be perfect! If he could somehow get Draco to swallow this last tablet, then he wouldn't be able to keep up his nonchalant pretense. He would be forced to act on his desire.
Of course, Harry would have to put up with the attentions of an overly amorous Slytherin, but that was a hardship that he was fairly sure he could manage to endure. An almost smug grin overtook his features as he nodded to himself and settled further down the bed, snuggling under the covers with a soft sigh.
Draco's day had been strange right from the beginning. Upon waking, he'd realized that he had dreamed of Harry Potter yet again, but this time it was much less real and immediate. It had been more of a vague, dreamlike impression of pleasure that came in the form of green eyes, dark hair and soft lips.
His feelings about this had been conflicted. The dreams from the past few nights that had felt so real had been annoyingly impossible to dismiss, but having experienced them, this hazy facsimile left him wanting. He had brought himself off in the shower minutes later, to memories of previous fantasies, which only left him confused again. He was physically satisfied, and yet he felt pathetic. Malfoys did not idly daydream about what they wanted. They went out and obtained it, which in this case, actually conflicted with another family rule.
It hadn't helped when Harry had once again been stealing glances at him here and there that had seemed to be a little amused, teasing perhaps, almost like he had a secret that he was encouraging Draco to discover. It was very strange and it caused bouts of ill-advised hope to flare up in Draco's chest.
The sheer lack of anger or suspicion in the Gryffindor's expression was a bit exciting. He had done his best not to respond in any way though and if he could just make it through this last meal of the day, then he could retreat into the dungeons and not have to see those emerald eyes for the rest of the night. …At least until he fell asleep.
Harry was anxiously watching the blond Slytherin from his usual spot at the Gryffindor table. He had decided that rather than coming up with some half-arsed plan to spike Draco's drink himself, he would simply have Dobby slip the tablet in for him. There could be no guarantees that Draco would drink all or even some of it, though Harry was fairly sure he usually drained his cup before leaving the table.
At this point he'd worked up his nerves so that he wasn't entirely sure whether he wanted this little trick to work or not. Maybe if it hadn't been such a public setting… but then where else was he supposed to get Draco to eat or drink something? No self-respecting Slytherin would be dumb enough to consume anonymously given snacks or beverages, and Harry didn't know whose name he might attach that wouldn't be suspect. Not to mention, the unusual behaviour that resulted would be instantly connected to the supposed gift.
There was no help for it. This had to be done in the Great Hall and on the one hand Harry didn't really want to embarrass Draco, while on the other, witnesses would ensure that he didn't get to bury the incident and pretend that nothing had happened.
The other problem that was eating at Harry was that no matter how certain of himself he had felt last night, now that he had set the wheels in motion and there was no time to put a stop to the whole thing, it occurred to him that he might have been wrong. Harry would feel terrible if Draco ended up pouncing on someone else.
'Well, whatever happens, at least I'll know for sure,' he comforted himself. 'It's better than wondering forever.'
As Draco finished with his meal and lifted his cup, Harry crossed his fingers under the table and hoped that nobody was going to end up completely humiliated.
Draco laid down his cutlery, quickly tossed back his pumpkin juice and stood up, having decided to forego desert. He could hardly wait to get out of this room and go immerse himself in blissfully mind-numbing homework. His vision blurred alarmingly for a moment when he rose but he shook it off and continued onward, wondering why the temperature of the room seemed to be rising.
Halfway across the room, he noted that Harry Potter had also stood and was heading for the door. Without leave from his brain, his body stopped and he turned to stare. It wasn't often that he got to examine the Gryffindor so openly. The boy was blushing lightly and his green eyes were bright, appearing to examine him right back with curiosity and a hint of concern. He came closer, halting just a few steps away from Draco and wet his lips nervously.
Draco couldn't tear his eyes away. His body was heating up and visions of rumpled sheets and smooth skin were clouding his mind. Harry's skin to be exact. Gods, but he looked so good right now. He'd been giving him all those come-hither looks before too and now here he was, so close. It would be so easy to just pull him into his arms and taste those precious lips, maybe try to catch the little tongue that peeked out to wet them.
The lips that he was so fixated on suddenly parted to draw a quick breath.
"…D-Draco?" Harry spoke hesitantly.
The sound of his name in that voice shot right through him and it was all the encouragement he needed. In one smooth glide, Draco had the smaller body wrapped securely in his arms and had taken possession of those soft lips like they were a long lost extension of himself.
Harry only managed to spare a few seconds' thought to the wave of murmurs, squeals and shocked exclamations that rose in volume as more and more people began to take notice of what was happening by the doors. Then he was shoved up against those doors and Draco's leg was pressing firmly between his and his brain went off-line for a minute.
He wrapped his arms around the taller blond's shoulders and pressed them tighter together, unknowingly causing the verbal deluge to increase at his obvious show of acceptance. He welcomed Draco's tongue into his mouth with a tiny moan of pleasure that had the Slytherin responding with an approving grunt as he regressed further into the base instincts of a Neanderthal.
The sheer noise-level alerted Harry once again that now would probably be a good time to take this somewhere else. Pulling one hand from their tight embrace, he reached behind him and fumbled blindly for the doorknob with only half of his attention. He was swiftly losing interest in the task and was almost startled when the solid wooden door suddenly gave way, allowing them to clumsily stumble through.
With a weak kick, he just barely managed to get it closed behind them, cutting off a good deal of the volume from the excited crowd of teenagers. Draco was attacking his neck like this one act was necessary to sustain his very existence and Harry silently pitied any person out there who had never been kissed exactly like this.
Then, without warning, Draco let out a growl and grasped Harry about the waist hefting him up over his shoulder. Ignoring his passenger's startled cry, he turned and headed swiftly off toward the dungeons, apparently having forgotten about such things as levitation or even lightening charms.
Harry struggled against the uncomfortable position but the determined blond merely wrapped his arm more tightly around his hips and caressed his thighs and buttocks. The poor captive wasn't sure whether this was meant to be a soothing gesture or just groping.
A collection of gasps and giggles echoed through the hallways and Harry's head whipped around to find a group of unidentified fourth years, closely followed by a trio of blushing Huffelpuff girls, all of whom seemed to be staring directly at his arse. (Or maybe Draco's hand on his arse… whichever) A new round of gasps took over as they realized who said arse belonged to and Harry gathered a handful of Draco's robes to burry his flaming face in them.
He was definitely going to be branded as the cutesy little submissive slave boy for the rest of his life. He could just imagine the sick thoughts that were probably running through all of their little minds, just waiting to be spewed out to the rest of the student body. Well, he couldn't exactly blame Draco for his behaviour. This was no one's fault but his own.
Before he knew it they'd arrived in the dungeons and Draco's rooms were opening to them. It was almost surprising that he could remember the password in this singular state of mind. Harry just thanked the Gods that they hadn't been heading for the far-away Gryffindor tower.
Draco set down his prize and the red-faced boy clung to him dizzily. Without allowing him more than a second to recover, he leaned in to resume their snogging. Harry's vision swam but he welcomed it anyway, drawing Draco's tongue in and sucking softly for a moment before things quickly grew more heated.
Draco slipped his hands through the opening of Harry's robes and ran them down the Gryffindor's lean flanks. Gripping the bothersome shirt, he tugged it out of the boys pants and snuck his fingers up underneath, smirking at Harry's responding shiver. He backed the smaller boy up into the wall and pressed their groins together. With a whimper, Harry spread his legs to allow more contact and even hooked one leg around Draco's thigh to help pull him in tighter.
With a frustrated whine, the Slytherin reached around to grab his arse and lifted. Harry automatically slid his arms around the blond's neck and brought his legs up to wrap around trim hips. Draco thrust harshly and both of them groaned at the friction.
It was at this point that the metaphorical blinders were fading in Draco's mind to the point that he was starting to recognize what was happening.
'We're… in my room. When did I…? Oh God's, hefeelsgood! Mmmm Harry… '
Draco let his brain short in and out, getting lost in the taste of Harry, until suddenly images of himself rushing the other boy in front of everyone in the Great Hall and tossing him over his shoulder, dragging him off to the dungeons, also with witnesses, flashed into his head in rapid succession.
His every muscle froze in mid-motion and unmistakeable green eyes blinked open, gazing wonderingly into his own from barely an inch away. He jerked his head back rather suddenly and the Gryffindor tilted his own head in a questioning look. Draco paid no attention. His eyes were locked on the reddened lips that he had kissed almost raw.
In a sudden panic, he dropped the smaller boy, whose quick reflexes thankfully managed to save him from a painful fall. Draco's head thrashed back and forth, looking around aimlessly almost as if he expected to find a panel of judges right there in his room waiting to condemn him. He cast about frantically for his usual Malfoy cool and the ever-ready set of rules that would tell him exactly what to do in any difficult situation, but he was coming up blank.
Potter. He had to get away from him, get him out of here, something, anything before he started screaming outraged accusations. Then maybe Draco could think, particularly of some kind of counter to the very publically painful and humiliating rejection that he would soon be faced with.
In a rushed and yet almost absent manner, Harry found himself suddenly shoved out of the Slytherin's quarters. He flinched as, without a word, the door was loudly slammed in his face.
'I don't know what I was expecting exactly, but that wasn't it.'
Draco slammed the door and leaned heavily on it, letting his forehead fall against the wood with a light thunk. What had come over him?
'Great Merlin! I've attacked and molested the Savior of the Wizarding World in front of the entire school! What am I going to do? I'm going to be lynched! They'll have me roasting on a spit!
I can't believe any of this. I just had Harry Potter in my room with my tongue down his throat… and he was just taking it. He was totally letting me do whatever I liked with him! He kissed me back even! I can't believe… I can't… I…
What the HELL am I DOING?! He kissed me back!!'
Harry was startled out of his momentary pondering before he could really get started, when the door suddenly opened again and Draco grabbed his wrist, yanking him back inside. The door slammed once again and he blinked up at the Slytherin in confusion.
"I was kissing you."
"Yes," Harry nodded. "Doing a jolly good job of it too."
"You kissed me back?"
"Hell yes." An irrepressible grin was slowly beginning to spread over the Gryffindor's face. An answering tug started at the corners of Draco's own mouth.
"You kissed me back."
Delicate fingertips started to skim up Draco's clothed chest.
"But maybe, you should try it again, just to be sure."
It was too cute how Harry tried to play the bold Gryffindor when he couldn't speak the words without blushing. Still, he leaned up encouragingly and Draco could do nothing but comply. He captured those tempting lips once more and this time he had the mental capacity to really appreciate every detail of the experience.
Harry found that while it wasn't the raging whirlwind of excitement of earlier, he liked this kind of kiss from Draco just as well. It was slower, more placid but no less thorough. Draco took a few long moments to leisurely enjoy Harry's mouth before he pulled back to take in the other boy's attractively disheveled appearance.
Harry's robes were still open and skewed from earlier, his shirt un-tucked and his hair more mussed than usual. Draco's eye's narrowed in on the shirt, his hands raising, unbidden, to creep under the cloth. He savoured the feeling of smooth skin even as he pushed the hem up to expose it to his view.
Glancing back up to those emerald eyes, he asked the question that ruled his mind.
"What do you want?"
Harry's eyes amazingly dilated further and he slowly let out his breath. He knew there was something that he wanted to explain here, or at least mention, but words seemed to have fled him. After all of this, his throbbing cock was demanding far too much of his attention. Then finally, he managed to shock himself with his answer.
"You'll have to ask me again after you've made me come."
The trademark Malfoy eyes widened and glazed over and Harry was given no time to feel embarrassment over the apparent loss of his inner monologue. His pants were on the floor and his body on the bed at what seemed the speed of light, with Draco looming over him, staring hungrily at his twitching arousal.
The Slytherin licked his lips and a somewhat shaky hand reached to finally touch and stoke what he'd been dreaming of. Oh, and Harry sang him a symphony of crooning sighs and moans, thrusting into his grip in a matching languid rhythm.
When he could stand it no longer, Draco paused to remove his own clothing. Harry whined at the abrupt disappearance of the hand on him and quickly replaced it with his own.
Having wrestled the last annoying article from his body, Draco looked up and felt his jaw drop in a very un-Malfoy-ish manner.
Harry's socked feet were planted on the mattress, his naked legs spread so wide he could only make small bucks of his hips, which none-the-less showed off tantalizing glimpses of the rosy little hole beneath, while his hand moved rapidly over his cock. The lean muscles in his stomach worked in a graceful dance below the shirt that was bunched up under his armpits just above the tiny pink nipples.
Draco looked him up then down, then up and down again, landing on the tight little star that made his entire body quiver with want. Without hesitation, he cast a spell to prepare the entrance for what was very soon to come if he had his way.
Harry gasped at the sudden sensation, but recognizing what it signaled, his excitement mounted. In a trice Draco was knocked flat on his back, an eager Gryffindor straddling his hips. He let out an 'oomph' and Harry snuck a tongue into his open mouth. A few heartbeats later he managed to release the reluctant blond's lips.
"Who knew you'd be such a voracious little kitten in the bedroom?" Draco panted.
"Only for you."
Draco opened his mouth to question that but his eyes suddenly rolled back as a tight, slick heat slid slowly down onto him.
"Oh Merlin, nothing has ever felt this good!"
"Draaaco," Harry moaned, "unh, move, move with me."
Draco grabbed Harry's hips, helping to lift him and guide the rhythm. Harry was absolutely stunning with his hair in his flushed face, his mouth falling open, letting rapid puffs of breath escape. The shirt that now clung to his sweaty torso had to go though and with a loud tearing sound it was flying through the air to join the other clothes on the floor.
A particularly well aimed thrust drew a keening sound and seemed to jar Harry into thoughtless babbling.
"Oh Gods yes! There Draco, oh…"
Draco was quick to react accordingly and was rewarded with more of the sweet sound of Harry lustily crying his name. A chorus of sirens couldn't have seduced him more completely.
"Is this what you want?" he teased as he struck that magic spot again.
"Draco!" Harry gasped. "So much… I… yessss… I want- want you to take me, in every way. I want..."
Draco actually slowed in surprise as that sunk in.
"You mean… again? You, want more?"
Harry smiled, lowering himself firmly, just to hear Draco groan.
"Cute, sexy, strong, stubborn, arrogant, perfect Slytherin."
The addressed Slytherin caught his breath.
"I want it, all the time. I want you always. I want to be yours."
Draco was completely amazed. He briefly wondered if perhaps he wasn't dreaming again after all. Then Harry's smile turned sly, his body undulating once more.
"I want meetings interrupted inexplicably and conversations cut short. I want to be suddenly apparated right off the street, only to feel your cock working into me in the next instant."
"Great bloody Merlin!" Draco actually whimpered. Then with a growl, he flipped them over and drilled Harry down into the mattress while the smaller boy wailed in ecstasy.
Sometime later, when two supremely satisfied souls lay together in peaceful silence, Harry heaved a sigh, lazily snuggling into the warmth of his lover and wondered idly how he would go about thanking those evil twins.
If nothing else he would be able to tell them their product worked exactly as promised, but he should probably caution them against explaining the reason behind their little disclaimer if someone should ask them to elaborate on the vague wording.
Knowing the truth could make it awfully tempting to misuse it on purpose. Just look what a Slytherin it had turned him into. If Draco ever found out, he'd never hear the end of it.
Still, a reward was definitely in order. Harry blushed, absently tracing his new lover's stunningly perfect abs.
'Best. Invention. Ever.'