Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company belong to JK Rowling and THE PUBLISHERS even though they still think he's straight. I'm not making any money, I'm merely borrowing them for a while.
Warnings: Slash, mature sexual content, bad language, and severe mindfuck.
Well, I encourage your complete co-operation…
Draco Malfoy knew the corridors of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as he did the corridors of Malfoy Manor, and that was saying something given the size of both places. He had the liberty of being able to wander around in both his homes without being caught or found, something not many people could claim. He had been able to confidently sneak around the manor since he was six years old, but the talent of running the maze that was Hogwarts was a newly acquired one. And it had almost definitely been at the expense of his health and most likely his sanity, as all his wanderings now took place when he was supposed to be sleeping.
On this particular night, an uncharacteristically warm, restless evening towards the end of September where the air was heavy and oppressive, he had fallen asleep at midnight, woken up around two and promptly dressed and left his dorm to meander aimlessly around the eerily empty halls of the castle.
He had flirted with insomnia for years, as long as he could properly remember. To start with, his Mother blamed an over-active imagination and too much energy. As he grew older, fear had taken precedence but now frustration was the force that drove him from his bed every night, made him shun the peace that slumber would provide. After the war…everything was different, but somehow it some ways it was exactly the same as before.
To Draco, the most important change wasn't how people viewed him with a new combination of pity and grudging respect for the role he and his wand had played in the war. It wasn't how his entire view on the political landscape had been turned upside-down. It wasn't how his monetary status had rapidly and significantly changed, or even how his family name meant fuck all to him these days. The only thought that Draco had time for was that life was different in the fact that Harry Potter didn't hate him anymore. But what was the same, and what was slowly driving Draco insane was that despite the lack of hate, the boy still didn't like him. Still didn't glance his way. Still never contemplated what it would be like to hold out that hand to Draco and just… oh he didn't know what he wanted. Some days he would be perfectly happy with a friendly truce with Potter, and then twenty minutes later he would hate the idea and knew he would only be satisfied when he had Potter beneath him and he was fucking him to within an inch of his life.
Potter. Still the bane of Draco's fucking existence because ever since Harry had saved his life and then returned his wand with a quiet but sincere thank you a few weeks later, Draco could not get the boy out of his head. Not that he'd managed that much in eight years anyway, but now it was just getting ridiculous.
His feet had led him to a bathroom on the sixth floor and he wandered in, remembering the time he spent here as sixth year; panicked, crying, worrying about his life. Now as an 'extended tuition student' as the rest of the eighth years were officially called, he couldn't help but see the sad irony in him being back here two years later, still worrying and panicking about his life. At least he'd grown out of the crying thing.
Wandering over to the window, he saw a large spider dutifully spinning a web between two stone casings of the window. He watched it idly for a while, and then (as he always seemed to do with everything in his life at the moment) got bored.
"Impedimenta," he whispered, pointing his wand at the spider which froze on its web.
Amused, Draco decided he could play this game for quite a bit longer. He unfroze the spider, turned it yellow, then green, and then made it as large as his hand, before shrinking it back to normal size and turning it jet black.
As the spider tried to ignore Draco and carry on with its web building, Draco paused, seized with a sudden impulse. Could he possibly…? He hadn't done it in so long…and he had only managed to do this properly on one occasion…
He pointed his wand at the spider and muttered "Imperio."
A wonderful tingly feeling ran down his arm and from experience he knew it was connected to the spider which was now sat placidly in the centre of its half made web.
Build your web… Draco thought. The spider didn't move.
Draco frowned. "Build the web," he said, and the moment the words left his mouth the spider started into action, hastening to finish the web.
"Stop," Draco said, and the spider did as such.
"Carry on," he said and he laughed as the spider obeyed. It appeared he needed the verbal commands to make the spider obey his will, rather than just the mental ones as was supposed to happen, but that didn't surprise him. He'd never been one for the Unforgivables and had only ever really gotten used to using one out of the three. Which wasn't bad, considering the Dark Lord used to live in his house and all.
He whipped around, wand raised as he heard a voice and shock hit him as he saw Harry Potter stood uncertainly by the door of the bathroom, looking right at him. He quickly masked his surprise at seeing anyone else up at this hour of the night, let alone the Chosen One himself.
"What are you doing?" Potter finally asked, somewhat curiously.
It was like some sort of twisted parody of the time they had been in this bathroom and Potter had hit Draco with the Sectumsempra curse; at least this time neither was firing curses at the other but the situation was strange neverftheless.
"Playing with my new pet," Draco replied idly, making the spider swing back and forth on a strand of silk with a whispered command.
He heard footsteps and to his astonishment Potter walked over, standing by his side, his eyes following the progress of the newly acrobatic and rather talented spider.
"Have you Imperiused that spider?" Potter asked after a moment, with a frown on his face.
"So what if I have?" Draco replied in as offhand a voice as he could manage; not giving away how his heart was hammering at the fact Potter was not only stood so close to him, but talking to him with no discernable hate or malice in his tone. He was actually acknowledging his existence, almost like he wanted to talk to Draco.
"I Imperiused someone once. One of the stranger feelings I've come across in life." Harry said unexpectedly.
"And here was me thinking you'd berate me for cursing an arachnid," Draco said mildly. "Didn't know you had it in you, Potter."
"Neither did I."
"Stop," Draco said to the spider and it did so. "Write Potter in your web," he said and a small smile lifted the corner of Potter's mouth as the spider immediately set about constructing a 'P' out of silk.
"Do you have to speak out loud to get it to do stuff?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. Obviously I'm not as proficient with Imperiusing as you," Draco added somewhat slyly and Harry shot him a half hearted scowl.
"It was war," Harry said, refusing to look at Draco and instead watching the spider who was now onto it's first 't' and doing well. "You of all people should know we all do bad things in circumstances like that."
Draco wished he could tell the spider to do things non-verbally, because he heartily wanted to tell it to add 'fuck off' right above where it was writing 'Potter'.
"Thanks for that," he said icily, glaring as the spider finished its task and sat at the end of the word like a fat black full stop, making the word 'Potter' seem suddenly much more assertive.
"Only saying…" Harry shrugged. "At least I never got anyone nearly killed fucking around with the Imperius curse. You used to be pretty proficient with it if I remember rightly."
"I did it once- you know what Potter, fuck off," Draco said moodily.
"You started it," Harry retorted. "I'm just saying that I'm definitely not the only one to have done bad things-"
"Well, if we're speaking of bad things, you remember the last time we met here?" Draco asked him abruptly.
He felt Potter tense next to him. "Yes," he bit out finally.
"Well then," Draco said harshly, turning his back on Potter and walking over to the sinks, eyeing his reflection in the mirror above the sink. "Shut the fuck up about the bad stuff I've done."
"Malfoy," Potter said, in a tone that left no illusion to the fact that it was meant as a warning. Draco looked up in the reflection to see Potter had followed him and was watching him and had his wand out.
Draco span around instinctively, pointing his own wand at Potter. His concentration was well and truly shot as Potter immediately raised his and pointed it back at Draco; he felt the connection he had imprinted upon the spider leave him, ending the curse and leaving his arm feeling entirely normal once again.
"Why are you even here?" Draco demanded, his voice trembling but his hand steady.
"Put your wand down," Potter said quietly. "I don't want to curse you."
Draco laughed bitterly. "Like I'd ever believe that-"
"I don't!" Harry said forcefully, and without thinking he had stepped closer, and as he stepped Draco jerked his wand up to point between his eyes and Potter reacted instantly, probably instinctively, his wand snapped up to and words were on his lips-
Potter may have been quick, but fuck being stunned because Draco was quicker. The curse was out of his lips and Potter had frozen in place before Draco realised what he'd done.
He stared at Potter who was now stood placidly watching him, his face expressionless. His gaze travelled to his own hand where his wand was still pointing at Potter, and then up his arm where the delicious tingling sensation had returned, slightly stronger than when he had been connected to the spider.
He'd just Imperiused Harry Potter. The Chosen One, the fucking Saviour of the Wizarding World, and Draco had used an Unforgivable curse on him. Draco. The Ex-Death Eater who had only escaped Azkaban by the skin of his teeth and was supposed to be on best behaviour for the next forever.
"Potter?" he said hesitantly, although didn't lower his wand, feeling decidedly nervous about what Potter would do if he gave him back his free will with Draco still in cursing distance.
Potter blinked once, and then again, and his eyes seemed to focus on Draco for a second but he didn't move or say anything and the sensation still remained in Draco's arm, connecting Potter to him through invisible strands of magic.
Tell me your name, Draco thought as a test but Potter didn't move. Obviously Draco was still shite at cursing things properly.
"Tell me your name," Draco said quietly, though Potter should be able to hear him in the silence of the bathroom.
"Harry," Potter said suddenly and Draco sagged in relief. At least he actually had Potter Imperiused and hadn't accidentally turned his brain to mush, which could happen if you really fucked things up with this curse.
"Come over here," Draco said and Potter obediently stepped closer to him, stopping just in front of him.
Draco hesitated. His rational brain was screaming at him to scarper and lift the curse and hide in his dorm for the next week, but his irrational brain- the part which had been obsessed with Potter since he was eleven- was slyly reminding him he would never again get a chance to be this close to Potter without being punched.
He was torn. Well and truly- he knew what he should do but here in front of him stood the cause and answer of all Draco's problems, and he couldn't just let this opportunity slip away-
"One step closer," he whispered and Potter obeyed. Of course he did. He was now so close to Draco they were nearly touching.
Draco reached out and he slowly and gently took Potter's glasses off of his face, dropping them to the floor and giving him an unobstructed view of those green eyes which were silently watching him, waiting for his next command. It's OK… Draco told himself. I just want to look at him properly…He tore his eyes away from Potter's green ones and moved them upwards; he brushed Potter's fringe to the side to glimpse the famous scar. He traced it with his finger, gently running his fingertip down across Potter's temple and across his cheekbone and then across his lips.
Staring at Potter's face, he couldn't really work out why Potter affected him as much as he did. It wasn't as if he were typically handsome, or good looking…but there was something there, the something that plagued Draco whenever he tried to sleep and made him want to do obscene things to Potter all night long. Draco mentally shrugged as he gently ran his finger back across Potters lower lip, feeling his soft breath on his finger. No point trying to analyse it. He did want Potter and that wouldn't change even if he did manage to work out why. Draco's eyes finished following the path of his finger; his eyes returned to Potter's and Draco suddenly knew he wouldn't be stopping there.
He was fucked up. This was fucked up and he knew it, and it was all wrong but he couldn't help himself- Potter was here and he could finally taste what he had yearned after for years, just the once couldn't hurt, he was already in trouble for it so he might as well go for broke-
"Kiss me," he whispered and his legs nearly gave out as Potter shut his eyes and leant forwards, gently pressing his lips against Draco's.
Oh God…Harry Potter was kissing him. Albeit under the influence of one of the most dangerous curses known to wizard-kind but Draco forgot to give a fuck because Potters lips were gentle and warm and he could taste him on his lips-
Draco's chest was heaving as Potter pulled back and continued to look at him with a calm expression on his face. The lack of response stung a little, but any sadness was quickly superseded by overwhelming, burning desire and need.
"Again," Draco managed to say, his voice cracking. "More."
There must have been some element of mental connection involved because Potter seemed to understand the command 'more' perfectly. He leant back in, his eyes fluttering shut and this time when his lips touched Draco's they parted slightly and his tongue came out to trace Draco's lower lip.
"Hold on to me," Draco breathed against his lips and Harry's hands obediently slid onto his hips, his fingers curling around the bony ridges just as they kissed him once more, Draco gently slipping his tongue into Harry's mouth.
Thrills ran through Draco, right from his toes up to his scalp because nothing could compare to the way Potter gently sucked on his tongue before releasing it and stroking it leisurely with his own. The way Potter bit on his lip and returned Draco's open mouthed kisses with so much heat and passion that it made Draco's legs weak.
Oh fuck this was wrong. It was so wrong on so many levels but it was amazing. He was stood in the middle of a bathroom at three in the morning, snogging the daylights out of Harry Potter, and nothing had ever felt this good-
He didn't know how long they were stood kissing for before his rational brain decided to turn itself back on. With a clunk in his mind that he suspected was probably audible, he realised just exactly what the hell he was doing and dropped Potter like he was hot, stepping back, panting and covering his mouth with his hand.
"Fuck," he said, muffled against his hand which he moved away. "Fuck!"
Potter just stood there and watched him.
"Shit," Draco breathed, taking a step back, horrified with himself and starting to panic. He was going to Azkaban for this one, there was no doubt about it. "Potter, I'm sorry-"
Draco fled, pushing through the door and not looking back, sprinting along the corridor, through a tapestry and down a staircase before holding his wand up and muttering finite. The tingly sensation in his arm disappeared at once and he carried on walking as fast as he could back to the safety of the Slytherin common. Well, safety seemed relative now; he fully expected Potter to tear apart the castle to find him and kill him when he realised what had happened.
I should have Obliviated the fucker… Draco thought desperately, diving across the entrance hall without bothering to check if the coast was clear. Actually, that would have been even worse- even though Draco knew he could cast a mean Memory charm if the occasion called for it- if Potter realised he'd been Obliviated that would undoubtedly rouse suspicion and they would think Draco had done far worse than steal a few kisses.
A few stolen kisses, which had been the best of Draco's life. Draco knew it now- the Universe hated him. And after tonight, once again so would Potter.