Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP characters and settings etc. They are not my dollies, I simply stole them and played with them for a short while. Only the plot belongs to me.
Rated: M for language and some sexual situations.
Warnings: There will be slash/ malexmale/ yaoi/ whatever you want to call it. Basically, if you are a homophobe, I don't advise reading this story. Also, for some, there may be unbearable amounts of fluffy relationship stuff that may induce vomiting and/or blindness. Have a nice day.
Post-DH but NOT epilogue compliant. There may be some spoilers.
This chapter contains some adult themes! Be warned ;)
Harry awoke bright and early at 6 o'clock, on the morning he was due to return to Hogwarts. Groaning and flopping back against his pillows when he realised the time – still five hours until he would see Draco on the train again – he became aware of a mildly painful ache between his legs. He smirked as the dream he had been having came back to him in full, high definition and technicoloured detail, and felt even more of his blood rush south; increasing his already impressive erection and tenting the sheets of his bed further.
Kicking the bottoms of his sleepwear off under the blankets; he wrapped his hand around himself, hissing slightly as the cool digits contrasted with the heat of his reddening cock. Running his thumb over the slit and closing his eyes, he let out a moan and began to indulge himself in a continuation of the dream he had been having; featuring himself and a very hot, very naked, sweaty blond. He moved his hand in a slow rhythm, smearing the pre-cum as it came, over the head. The speed of his hand increased as the sensations built up; and Harry briefly wondered what he could do to make his orgasm better. He had plenty of time to experiment after all. It clicked as a select scene from his dream swam in his mind's eye.
Removing his hand and almost letting out a groan at the loss of movement, Harry sat up and groped on the nightstand for his wand. He held out his left hand in front of him; palm up and pointed his wand at it, mumbling a choice spell he had recently read about in a magazine of rather low literary context. Instantly, he felt the smooth; clear gel glide from his wand's tip on to his outstretched fingers. Smearing the substance over the length of his digits, Harry replaced his wand on the nightstand and wriggled back down to a horizontal position once more. Spreading his legs and bending them at the knee so his feet rested on the mattress, Harry fisted his cock in his right hand again and tried to relax as he slipped his left between his spread legs and began to circle his tight entrance with the slick digits. He could immediately feel the difference as he stroked himself; the pleasant tingling sensation from the fingers as they cautiously danced around his hole, combined with the hand replaced on his member made him pant slightly. He took a breath and pushed a single finger past the tight ring of muscle, breaching himself and letting out a gasp as he did so. It didn't hurt, but it felt immensely strange to have something inside of him like this. He increased the pressure of the fist on his shaft as he continued his ministrations, and a moan escaped his lips as he pulled the finger out slightly and pushed back in, going deeper this time. He added a second finger out of curiosity and almost choked. This was more uncomfortable, but he worked his right hand over his impressive length - faster this time - and palming the head as he felt his muscles relax again. He scissored the fingers, letting out another gasp as he stretched himself, and pictured Draco's face above him as he worked to bring himself to completion. The hand on his cock pumped harder as he slipped his fingers in and out of his entrance repeatedly, all the while images of the blond flashing through his mind; it wasn't his own hands touching him, but Draco's ivory ones; those slender fingers probing his hole, working over his balls as he felt his climax building and smearing the clear liquid already leaking from the slit over the almost purple head.
"Draco!" The name was pulled from his throat as he came, spilling himself into his hand, with those two fingers still pressing themselves deeper inside his body.
Harry lay back against the pillows; riding the aftershocks of his orgasm as his breathing rate slowed and his sticky member slowly wilted. Sliding his fingers from himself with a groan, he groped for his wand and cast the well-practised cleaning charm over the coated areas of his skin. The messy evidence vanished and Harry rolled on to his side, a dull ache in his passage as he slowly drifted back off to sleep in the hopes of passing a couple more hours in the company of his imaginary Draco.
Draco groaned and rolled over in his queen-sized bed, his face screwed up against the incessant wailing and shrieking of his alarm clock. He cursed the day he had bought it for a rather hefty sum of gold from Borgin and Burkes.
Fumbling around for his wand he aimed a silencing spell at the damned thing and sank back into his fluffy pillows once silence reigned in his room again. Just as he was drifting back off to sleep in his own private section of the warm, comfortable heaven that was his bed; there was a deafening 'CRACK' and a house elf wearing a ratty tea towel appeared beside him; bowing low.
"Mistress Narcissa bids that Young Master Draco be getting up now," It squeaked and Draco thought that perhaps this was one of the female elves; judging from the pitch of its voice, "She is saying that she is knowing you too well and you is not wantings to be missing the train this morning."
His eyes snapped open. "The train?"
"Yes, Sir. Young Master Draco is returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this morning, Sir." The elf squeaked; its head still bowed low.
Draco nodded and sat up, rubbing his eyes as he did so. "Right, right… I'm getting up. You may leave and tell Mother."
The tiny elf vanished with an ear-splitting sound, and the blond wrenched back his blankets, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and moving over to the folded pile of clothes on his armchair in the corner. He was seeing Harry in – Draco checked the clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace in his room – two hours!
Thirty minutes later – perfection took a long time – the Malfoy heir was seated with his parents in the sunny breakfast room; enjoying a meal of Draco's favourite breakfast dishes, as this was the last time they would be eating together for several weeks. Conversation was sparse, but no awkwardness or tension hung in the air; they were simply a family that saw no need for pointless chit chat, happy to sit with each other in a comfortable silence; and basking in the time spent together as a single family unit. Narcissa smiled pleasantly as she sipped her milky coffee and Lucius drank his ludicrously strong tea with the manner and posture of a man whose strength and pride never deserted him. Although not free from the allegations and judgements of the wizarding population as a whole; they were free from the terror and obligations they felt that kept them imprisoned, not only in their home, but in their very characters; they no longer had to act a certain way because it was what they had always done and any change in their behaviour may arouse false suspicions or lead to someone questioning their loyalty. Now, as Malfoys they were free to be who they wanted, free to be a Malfoy – and not a servant to the Dark Lord.
Draco admired his father's resolve. Sat before him, was the man he'd learned all his beliefs from, looked up to and idolised as a child. Lucius commanded respect and had an air of dignity and pride about him that the younger Malfoy had rarely seen waver, and then only in extreme circumstances. Now, everything his father had worked for; the credibility of their family name, their reputation, their fortune, even Lucius' whole belief system of a pure-blood only wizarding society was either being questioned, or had crumbled. And yet, here the older man sat – proved wrong on several occasions, humiliated often and stripped of many of his titles, ordered to pay reparations for the war and under house arrest. But still, he had that same strong, unwavering aura surrounding him; and he remained as proud as ever. The Malfoys would not be broken; they would rebuild. Draco had never felt so much pride from belonging to the Malfoy family. They had survived; and would continue to do so.
After breakfast was over; the house elves brought Draco's trunk down the many stairs and Narcissa and her son bid goodbye to his father, exchanging meaningful looks and gestures and finally apparated to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
If you have stuck so far with this story throughout my promises of weekly updates and then going for months without anything new; I applaude you, I really do. I'm really sorry for the lack of updates for this; my writing muse ran away from me. It's VERY slowly returning so hopefully I'll be able to get another chapter to you all within a couple of months. I'm not going to say I'll be handing out weekly chapters anymore because... well, it's not true and you all know it. Updates will arrive when I write them. I'm sorry I can't promise exact dates and times, but if any of you have imaginations that you can predict then you're very lucky indeed :P I hope you're still enjoying my story; Harry and Draco will be reunited eventually I promise! =D
Thankyou to EVERYBODY who reviewed, although I haven't replied to each and every one; they ALL mean something to me so I'd love it if you could keep reviewing ;)