That took about a thousand years and I blame it all on the Error Type 2. But here it is at last. ;)
The Path to Recovery
Harry stood near one of the many tables littered about the perimeter of the Great Hall, watching Ron and Hermione dance. He couldn't help smiling at the pair, remembering so vividly the development of their relationship over the years.
He'd danced already with Parvati, for old time's sake, as well as several other hopeful girls and a few from his year just for the fun of it. He'd had a surprisingly good time with Lavender Brown, who had teasingly bumped into Ron and Hermione a fair few times before winking and waltzing away again with Harry.
"Where's your necklace, Won Won?" she'd asked loudly one time, and Hermione had collapsed into a fit of giggles.
Harry was broken from his thoughts when he felt a presence behind him. He'd been about to turn around when he felt warm breath on his ear.
"Dance with me?"
Harry bit his lip and tried to hide his blush. It didn't work, of course, and a moment later Malfoy came around to face him. He held out a hand and Harry took it without a word, allowing the blond to lead him onto the dance floor as a slow song started.
Harry's breathing was shallow and heavy as Malfoy placed his hands on Harry's hips and pulled him close. Harry wrapped his own hands around Malfoy's neck boldly, loving the warmth of his skin.
"Tell me, Potter," he said, staring directly into Harry's eyes as they moved rhythmically to the music, "why did you really ask me to Hogsmeade today?"
Harry swallowed thickly. Surely he didn't know!
But he simply couldn't be sure when Malfoy leaned forward, his mouth hovering next to Harry's ear.
"I told you," Harry croaked. "I just w-wanted to try and mend things."
"What kind of mending are we talking about?" Malfoy whispered, and as hard as Harry tried, he couldn't contain the gasp that leapt from his mouth. "Mm, I see." The shock of feeling Malfoy's lips on his neck was comparable to the astonishment he'd felt when he'd found out he'd traveled back in time. It was just impossible.
But when he felt another gentle kiss a bit higher up he forgot to be surprised and merely groaned his appreciation.
"You don't mind missing the rest of this dance, do you?" Malfoy whispered. Harry could only shake his head. "Lovely." Malfoy took his hand then and led him from the Great Hall, down the stairs leading to the dungeons, and through the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories. He was pulled past the common room, down a hallway, and through a door labeled "eighth years."
Malfoy closed the door and aimed his wand at it, muttered a spell Harry didn't recognize, and then pushed Harry rather forcefully against the wall. Harry stared at him with wide, lustful eyes.
"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy whispered dangerously close to his face.
". . . What are you offering?"
Harry felt Malfoy's nails digging into his arms through the fabric of his robes. He licked his lips and glanced down at Harry's briefly. Harry stifled a whimper.
"More than just this," he said finally. Harry remained silent, unsure of what to say. How much more was "more"? "I need to know what you want."
In all honesty, it was getting hard to think straight with Malfoy this close to him, breathing heavily, his obvious arousal digging into Harry's thigh. He knew he wanted more than just sex, although that sounded brilliant right now.
"You're seeing Weasley's sister—" Harry effectively cut him off with a shake of the head. "What?"
"Not anymore," Harry said, almost literally unable to string together a full sentence. Technically they weren't. At least, they were supposed to be breaking it off tonight. If he was lucky, it might be tomorrow.
"Why?" Malfoy asked, making a move to step backwards. Harry instinctively reached out and grabbed Malfoy's hips. Malfoy looked into his eyes and a knowing smirk lit up his face. He leaned forwards then, stopping when their lips were only a millimeter apart. Harry could have screamed. "I just need to know this isn't only about sex." Harry could only shake his head. That appeared to be enough for Malfoy, however, because a moment later his lips were covered by another pair, soft and warm and so wonderfully, entirely Malfoy.
Harry felt a low moan rumble in the back of his throat and he opened his mouth to let it out. Malfoy took advantage by tentatively licking Harry's bottom lip. Harry quickly dove in again, shoving his own tongue unceremoniously into the warm, waiting mouth.
He ran his tongue over Malfoy's teeth and across his palette, tasting and exploring every unfamiliar crevice. He wasn't typically so aggressive, but he couldn't seem to get enough. Malfoy was making keening, needy sounds that drove Harry up the wall. It was wet, but unlike with Cho, it was wet because Malfoy was sucking on his lips and biting his skin and simply pouring eight years of emotion into one long, brutal, arousing kiss.
He broke away all too soon, but before Harry could protest, Malfoy was dragging him over to a bed and pulling the curtains around them. He laid Harry down and straddled his waist, then leaned over to begin licking and biting his neck. Harry realized vaguely that Malfoy was giving him a hickey, but he couldn't be bothered to care. In fact, it made him feel hotter than he had before. He concentrated on the feel of Malfoy's mouth and teeth and saliva on his skin. But soon it all blended together, because hands were opening Harry's dress robes and exposing his chest, and then that same mouth that had abused his neck was attacking his collarbone. And all Harry could do was alternately grip and pet the blond hair before him as the biting kisses moved farther down. Malfoy laved his nipples and sucked at the skin on and around his ribs. He kissed and licked Harry's sides, all around his stomach, and dipped his tongue crudely into Harry's belly button. He nuzzled the trail of hair leading below the waistline of Harry's trousers, causing Harry to squirm and involuntarily arch into the touch. He was almost literally worshipping Harry's body, and contrary to what he would have expected had he imagined someone doing something like that to him, he felt simply high on the feeling.
"Please," he whimpered. It must have sounded pathetic, but he just didn't care. He needed that mouth—Malfoy's mouth—lower.
And finally—finally—Malfoy gripped his trousers and pulled them slowly down his legs and off his feet. Harry looked down and saw the tent in his boxers, the small wet patch at the top, and the hungry way in which Malfoy was staring. He was not permitted to watch much longer, however, because his head tipped back in ecstasy when Malfoy placed his mouth over the head of Harry's cloth-covered cock.
"Oh, fuck!" Harry shouted.
"Such foul language from the savior of the world," Malfoy whispered. Harry could only buck helplessly, and was rewarded when Malfoy pressed the flat of his tongue over the wet spot on the fabric. He teased this way for only a few more seconds before carefully lifting the boxers over Harry's weeping length and directly licking the head.
"Malfoy," Harry groaned, gripping the blond hair tightly.
"Draco." Malfoy removed his mouth and looked up at Harry suddenly. "It's Draco." Harry stared back at him, astonished, yet incredibly turned on. Draco. It felt so intimate. So appropriate. For this was not Malfoy. This was someone entirely new.
"Please, Draco," he whispered finally. He heard the other boy swallow nervously before the whole head of his cock was engulfed in heat. He cried out, unable to stop himself, and tried thrusting his hips, but found that was impossible due to the surprisingly strong hands gripping his hips tightly. Draco's tongue swirled languidly around the head, dipped into the slit, and finally trailed down the underside of Harry's cock. He continued this teasing for quite some time, driving Harry quickly toward bliss. When he finally took several inches into his mouth, Harry couldn't help crying out his pleasure. Draco began bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks, sucking Harry's cock like he was being paid to do it.
It was just as Harry was about to explode that he pulled away.
"The fuck!" Harry shouted hoarsely. But Draco didn't answer. He was too busy removing his own robes and pulling his own hard cock out of his boxers, the head an angry red and dripping pre-come. Harry fell silent. He watched in fascination as Draco spread Harry's legs and moved closer, aligned their cocks, and finally wrapped a hand around both.
Harry fell back onto his pillow with a low, guttural moan.
"You're beautiful, Potter," Draco whispered, stroking them slowly, teasingly.
"H-Harry," Harry bit out. Draco chuckled and leaned close, his breath wafting across Harry's face.
"Harry," he said, and Harry felt his body shudder. "Does that feel good?"
"Yes," he hissed. He heard Draco gasp and the hand gripping their cocks tightened very abruptly.
"Do that again," Draco whined. Harry could not for the life of him figure out what the hell he'd done. All he knew was that if Draco's hand did not start moving again soon, he'd have to take drastic measures.
"W-what?" he gasped, opening his eyes with difficulty.
"Parseltongue," Draco said, squeezing their cocks again, causing a very arousing, squishy sound. "You spoke Parseltongue. Fucking do it again."
He'd spoken Parseltongue? Well, that answered his question. He didn't know how he could do it again, though, if he hadn't meant to.
But when Draco's hand once again sped up, he found himself hissing a string of encouragements and pleas for more, harder, faster. Draco was furiously thrusting against Harry's cock as Harry hissed his pleasure, and soon the orgasm that had been building up since they'd first entered the room was bursting out of him. It was like an explosion. His whole world went white for a few moments and he couldn't think, only feel, and it was better than anything he'd ever experienced in his life.
Draco came only seconds later, his come mixing with Harry's on Harry's stomach.
And then Draco fell forward, breathing heavily, eyes closed. He was hyper-aware of a sweaty Draco Malfoy draped across his body, lying in a mess of both their come. He was both disturbed, and yet entirely unsurprised, to find that he liked the feeling.
They were silent for what felt like an eternity, but what was probably only a few minutes. Harry thought he should probably say something, but he wasn't sure what. What did you say in this situation that didn't sound stupid?
Draco's voice penetrated the silence.
"I should get you back to your dorm," he breathed. Harry's heart clenched. How anticlimactic.
"Yeah," he said, despite the empty feeling it left in his chest. Draco sat up and extended a hand to Harry, whom he pulled up and into a slow kiss.
"What time is it?" Harry asked, pulling away only an inch. Draco sighed and looked down at the watch he'd not taken off.
Draco made to open the curtains and only stopped when Harry shrieked.
"What if someone's there?"
"I charmed the door so the handle would be hot." Harry raised a brow. Draco chuckled. "We all agreed on that in our second year. If someone was up to something in here, they'd charm the handle, and we'd all know not to go inside." Harry wondered vaguely why his dorm mates hadn't been that clever.
Draco laughed at his expression. He then helped Harry out of bed and they both cleaned up and dressed quietly. They shared another—rather long—kiss before exiting the Slytherin dorms together and walking back up to the entrance hall. A few people were gathered there, others just leaving the dance, while some were heading upstairs. From the sound of it, however, most were still inside the Great Hall.
"Can I walk you to your dorm?" Draco asked, the faintest of blushes coloring his pale cheeks. Harry smiled and nodded, secretly ecstatic that their night had not yet ended.
They walked silently up seven floors, Draco grabbing Harry's hand and intertwining their fingers on the third-floor landing.
They stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady and Draco turned to Harry first, reaching for his other hand and linking those fingers as well.
"I know this is very—soon would be an understatement," he chuckled. Harry blushed and his stomach began churning. What was soon? "This is very abrupt."
Harry merely nodded.
"We've only just begun speaking to each other as civilized human beings."
Harry bit his lip.
"So at the risk of sounding like a complete prat . . ." Harry unconsciously held his breath this time. Draco then looked into his eyes and said, "Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?" Harry simply couldn't help grinning like an idiot. Draco appeared to take this as a yes, because he too smiled and then leaned in to kiss Harry lightly. When he pulled away Harry found he was still smiling. "We've a lot to talk about and learn and understand, and some of it will be hard, and I know there will be people who won't understand, but—"
Harry cut him off with another kiss.
"Do you like me?" Draco nodded vigorously. "Then that's all that matters right now." And with a last kiss on the cheek and a whispered "See you tomorrow," Harry climbed inside the Gryffindor common room with a euphoric smile and a feeling that, for the first time since the end of the war, he might be on the path to recovery.