A/N: Written for Smoochfest 2012

"I think you need to try and go into this weekend thinking positive, Harry."

Hermione topped up Harry's wine, smiling encouragingly at him as he ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. "Maybe it will actually work. Surely it would ultimately make your life easier if you and Malfoy could manage to work together without arguing all the time?"

"There's nothing positive about this weekend," Harry grumbled. "It's Kingsley's way of punishing both of us for the ruckus we caused at our last DADA training day."

"From what I hear, he had good reason to be pissed off," Hermione replied with a stern look. Ron caught Harry's eye and shrugged guiltily as Hermione continued. "That deflected Bat Bogey hex kept him off work for two days, and it definitely wasn't one of the spells you were supposed to be practising."

"Yeah, well..." Harry muttered, taking a large swallow of wine. "Malfoy started it with a particularly nasty Jelly Legs jinx, and that wasn't on the course handout either."

"But the fact remains that you and Malfoy are Auror partners, Harry." Hermione's expression was suddenly disturbingly reminiscent of Mrs Weasley when she was telling Ron off about something. "You need to be able to work together without endangering the people around you. You need to be able to work as a team."

"It might not be that bad anyway, mate," Ron offered. "Some of the games and stuff might be fun..." He drifted off uncertainly as Harry looked at him balefully.

"I'm giving up what should be a weekend off, to go and play trust-building games with Malfoy in the arse-end of nowhere, Ron. I'm pretty sure that nothing about this weekend is going to be fun."

Harry's voice brooked no argument and the conversation stopped there. They ate in awkward silence for a little while before Hermione brought up the subject of Neville and Luna's forthcoming wedding and the tension lifted a little. But Harry's mood didn't.

He only half-followed the conversation and contributed little as he ate, thinking about his infuriating partner.

It had been six long months since their boss had re-shuffled the department and Harry had been assigned to work with the last person that he would ever have chosen. Shacklebolt had explained to them that the tension between them was bad for the rest of the team, and that they needed to learn to get along. He was forcing the issue by making them work together and they had to find a way to get over the past and move on.

So far, it hadn't exactly been a roaring success. Malfoy and Harry always seemed to manage to rub each other up the wrong way, and they bickered constantly, much to the amusement but also the exasperation of their colleagues.

"Honestly, you're like an old married couple sometimes," Ron had commented once.

Harry had rolled his eyes and glared at his friend, but his comment was actually a little uncomfortably close to home, because Harry suspected that it would be an awful lot easier to co-exist with Malfoy if he didn't fancy the bugger so much. Malfoy wasn't actually that much of a git these days. Well, not all the time anyway. He was hard-working, clever and his dry humour often made Harry laugh - as long as it wasn't directed cuttingly at him. But they constantly wound each other up and seemed unable to reach a truce for longer than a few hours at a time. And Malfoy was just so damned attractive and that just made him all the more irritating because he was so smug and unobtainable.

The irony was that they were both openly gay, and both apparently single. But Harry assumed that Malfoy would rather shag a blast-ended skrewt than have anything to do with him. Consequently, he wouldn't make a move on Malfoy in a million years - he had no desire to give Malfoy any more ammunition when it came to making his life miserable.

"Harry... Harry!"

Hermione's voice dragged Harry back from his musings of lean limbs, grey eyes and an infuriating personality and he realised that he was being offered seconds of apple crumble.

"Oh, sorry, Hermione," he shook his head. "I was miles away. But no thanks, I'm full, and I really ought to head home and get packed for the weekend."

He took his leave with a hug from Hermione and a sympathetic backslap from Ron.

"See you in the morning, mate." Ron raised his hand as Harry stepped into the Floo to make his way back to Grimmauld Place.


Work on Friday was even worse than usual.

Harry and Malfoy were both stuck in the office catching up on paperwork, which meant they sniped at each other more than on an average day. At least when they were working out in the field they tended to be more focused on the job and were better at co-operating. Neither of them enjoyed paperwork and the prospect of the weekend was hanging heavy over both of them.

Harry was sitting at his desk, his chair angled so that he could surreptitiously admire Malfoy's long legs where they were stretched out under his desk. The scratch of his quill was making it obvious that, unlike Harry, he was actually managing to get some work done. Harry stared at Malfoy's hand, the pale skin almost luminous in the dim light of their office, his fingers strong and elegant as they gripped the black quill. Harry sighed and dragged his eyes away.

"Merlin, Potter," Malfoy snapped. "Could you stop huffing and puffing and get on with some sodding work? Those case notes won't write themselves you know."

"Oh, fuck off, Malfoy," Harry retorted automatically. It was hardly an original come-back, but it would have to do.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and didn't even bother replying. The dismissal only made Harry's anger and resentment grow, crawling up his spine and prickling under his skin. He gripped his quill tighter and tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him, but it was no good.

"This is all your bloody fault anyway, you prat," he spat out. "If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have lost a perfectly good weekend off to this stupid fucking course we're being sent on."

Malfoy turned and stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "Of course, Potter," he drawled sarcastically. "Of course it's all my fault and has absolutely nothing to do with you being a hot-tempered, Gryffindor idiot who hexed our boss instead of me. Very smooth, Potter."

"You started it," Harry growled.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again," Malfoy flicked his fringe out of his eyes and turned back to his parchment. "What's done is done. Let's not make this weekend any worse than we need to, eh?"

Somehow Malfoy's refusal to rise in response to Harry's goading just made Harry all the more annoyed. He gritted his teeth and clutched his quill so hard that it bent and snapped in his grip, spilling ink all over his hands and the document he was working on. He muttered a wandless charm, vanishing the inkblot and cleaning his hands, resolutely ignoring Malfoy's arched eyebrow and smirk of amusement.


Harry and Malfoy Flooed together to the Puzzlewood Wizarding Team Building Centre straight from work. Harry was uncomfortably aware of Malfoy's proximity as he grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it by their feet.

He stumbled out, slightly disoriented as usual, from the stone fireplace into a large room with a wooden floor and high arched beams supporting the ceiling. He lurched sideways into Malfoy and grabbed his arm instinctively to steady himself.

"Salazar, Potter, it's like Flooing with a drunk. Are you never going to get used to it?"

Harry flushed and snatched his hand away, focusing on the figure of a plump middle-aged witch approaching them from the other side of the room.

"Harry Potter," her eyes lit up in the instant recognition that Harry was used to by now. It still never failed to embarrass him though. "And you must be Draco Malfoy," she shook both of their hands, her grip firm and strong, blue eyes twinkling. "I'm Melinda Herm, welcome to the Puzzlewood Centre."

"Thank you," Harry replied.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms Herm," Draco replied, his impeccable pure-blood manners smooth as ever.

"Melinda, please," she smiled. "First of all, let me show you to your room, and you can get yourselves sorted and unpacked while I wait for the other delegates to arrive."

Room? Harry thought to himself. He was sincerely hoping that he'd misheard and that there had actually been an 's' on the end of the word. He didn't want to cause a fuss when he might be mistaken, so he didn't say anything. But he caught Malfoy's eye as they moved to follow Melinda and he frowned fleetingly, making Harry's heart sink.

Sure enough, she led them up a rickety wooden staircase and along a corridor lined with identical doors. She threw open the door numbered 5 and stood aside to let them pass. "Here are your quarters for the weekend," she beamed at them with what seemed like unnecessary jollity. "It's a bit basic," she added, obviously misinterpreting the looks of horror on both of their faces, "but I'm sure you can survive for a couple of nights."

The room was spartan. The walls and floor were just bare wood with a tiny window that showed only trees from where Harry was standing. There were two narrow beds, separated by the bare minimum of space, just enough to stand between. Lockers and shelves over the tiny beds provided the only available storage.

"The toilets and bathroom are at the end of the corridor," she smiled again. "I'll leave you two to get settled. Then come and join us for a meet-and-greet session back in the hall before dinner, in about an hour."

"Okay," Harry replied trying, and probably failing, to look more enthusiastic than he felt.

"Toodle pip then!" she beamed at them again and bustled out of the room leaving them alone together.

"Um... do you care which bed you have?" Harry met Malfoy's eyes, his cheeks flushing for no good reason. This seemed to happen a lot in Malfoy's presence.

"Not really, Potter. They both look equally inadequate," Malfoy shrugged, his brow wrinkled in annoyance.

"Okay, well... I'll have this one then."

Harry pulled his luggage out of his pocket and flicked his wand, expanding it back to its normal size, plonking it down on the bed that was furthest from the door. He turned his back on Malfoy and started pulling things out of his tatty old hold-all, shoving them up on the shelves over the bed until his bag was empty. Then he stowed it away under the bed.

Feeling slightly self-conscious he stripped off his auror robes and changed into some jeans and a t-shirt. As he pulled the top over his head he got his glasses caught in the neck and struggled for a moment before he managed to pull it down over his stomach. He caught Malfoy watching him with an oddly intent look on his face but he looked away quickly when Harry met his eyes.

"Still can't get dressed on your own, Potter? Dear me." Malfoy turned back to the suitcase that was now lying open on his bed.

Not sure what to do next, Harry lay on the bed, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head. He was tired after a long week and the bed was actually more comfortable than it looked, despite being so narrow.

He looked over at his roommate and snorted with amusement. Malfoy's suitcase was seriously enormous and full of what looked like a ridiculous amount of clothing, shoes and assorted toiletries.

"Merlin, Malfoy. How long are you expecting to stay? You look as though you've packed enough stuff for a month."

"Some of us like to make an effort with our appearance Potter. No doubt you're planning on wearing the same clothes all weekend, but Malfoys don't like roughing it."

"I can imagine," Harry grinned, watching as Malfoy carefully lined up four pairs of almost identical shiny black shoes on the shelves above his bed.

Harry lay and watched Malfoy go through the process of unpacking. It was strangely soothing. His eyes followed the repetitive movements of the blond bending and stretching as he transferred items from his case to the shelves. The delectable curve of Malfoy's arse and the graceful dip of his spine as he moved were too much for Harry to resist ogling. But when he felt his prick start to fill in his trousers he had to stop looking, so he rolled over to lie on his front instead and let his thoughts drift, Malfoy's arse at the forefront of them.


"Wake up, you lazy git."

Harry was dragged shockingly back to consciousness by a pillow landing on his head. "Mmphhh!" he reared up, throwing the pillow back at Malfoy and straightening his glasses which had been knocked askew while he slept.

"It's time to go and be sociable," Malfoy grinned at him. "You can manage that, can't you, Potter? I'm sure the other delegates will be excited to realise that they're on a team-building weekend with The Boy Who Snores Like a Hippogriff."

"I do not!" Harry protested.

"Well, maybe not as loudly as a hippogriff," Malfoy conceded. "But you do make weird snuffling noises. I might have to cast a Silencing Charm if I want to get any sleep tonight."

They made their way down to the hall together and Harry braced himself. He was never good at meeting a lot of new people. He hated the fuss that his presence inevitably caused and Malfoy was the last person he would have chosen as his wingman for a social occasion. Harry knew that he'd just take the piss at any given opportunity.

The evening actually turned out better than Harry had expected. There was a relatively small group of people there for the course. All of them were people who were colleagues in various different Wizarding professions, presumably colleagues who needed a little bit of help in working together effectively, like Malfoy and himself. There was a certain amount of tension in the room as a result, and the odd snappy exchange.

They met their other instructor for the weekend, Melinda's assistant, a younger wizard called Tobin Briars. He spoke briefly to the group, introducing himself and made a point of talking to them all individually during the meet-and-greet.

Supper was good, the house-elves at the Centre served up a hearty stew with mashed potatoes and fruit cobbler and custard to follow. Harry found himself gravitating towards Malfoy and ended up sitting beside him. A case of better the devil you know, he convinced himself. At least he knew where he was with Malfoy; he was still a bit uncomfortable with the rest of the group. They didn't talk a lot, focusing on eating rather than conversation and by the time supper was over, Harry was yawning again, ready for an early night.

After supper there was tea and coffee for those who fancied it, but Harry decided to make his excuses.

"I'm going to head back up to our room now," he said quietly to Malfoy. "I'm knackered, going to read for a bit, then turn in."

"All right," Malfoy nodded, looking a little surprised. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Potter. You're a free agent."

"I was just trying to be polite," Harry rolled his eyes, "rather than vanishing without a word. Whatever, Malfoy. Good night."

"'Night, Potter," Malfoy nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, his grey eyes faintly mocking. "Sweet dreams."


The bathrooms were as basic as the bedrooms, Harry found; clean but functional. A row of toilet cubicles with a line of wash basins on the opposite wall. He peeked into the shower room too, but decided to leave that until the morning. There was a row of shower cubicles with thin plastic curtains hanging in front of each. It looked very institutional and rather reminded Harry of his Hogwarts days.

He washed and brushed his teeth and then stripped to boxers and a t-shirt and crawled into bed. Harry wasn't a big fan of pyjamas and didn't actually own a pair. It occurred to him that maybe he should have bought some for this weekend, but it was a bit late now.

Harry cast a dim Lumos and read for a while. He wasn't expecting to doze off quite as early as he did, but he realised that he must have drifted off, as he woke at an unspecified time later and was aware of someone moving quietly around the room. Still half-asleep and in that heavy unwilling-to-move state, Harry just slit his eyes open enough to see that Malfoy was standing over him, a vision in black silk pyjamas, and was looking down at Harry's supine body with a peculiar expression of something almost approaching tenderness on his face. Harry froze, letting his eyelids droop shut again, still pretending to be asleep and tried to keep his breathing deep.

He kept a tight rein on himself, not allowing himself to jump as he felt his book being moved from where it had fallen on his chest. Then gentle fingers removed his glasses from his face and Harry heard Malfoy put them on the shelf above the bed. While Harry was recovering from the shock of Malfoy's fingertips grazing his cheekbones in a way that had felt almost deliberate, he heard a muttered Nox as his wand was slipped out from between his fingers and pushed beneath his pillow.

Harry's heart was pounding so hard and fast in his chest he was amazed that Malfoy didn't hear it. With horror, Harry realised that his cock was stiffening and that he would be pitching a tent under the blankets any minute if he didn't do something, and Malfoy was still standing over him, unmoving, presumably watching him while he slept - or rather pretended to sleep. Harry fake-stirred and rolled onto his side away from Malfoy, curling around his erection and wishing that he'd taken the time to have a shower and a wank before bed, because now he was going to be hard all night.

He heard Malfoy finally move, and extinguish his own wandlight. Then came the gentle creaking as his partner climbed into his own narrow bed and shuffled around to get comfortable. Harry listened as Malfoy's breathing slowed and levelled into the soft pattern of sleep. Then Harry lay awake for what felt like hours, his mind tumbling in confusion, trying to make sense of what had just happened.


Harry was dragged reluctantly into consciousness by the sound of magically amplified birdsong and water bubbling over rocks.

"What in the name of Salazar?"

The grumpy voice came from alarmingly close quarters and Harry jerked into full wakefulness, suddenly remembering exactly where he was and who he was with. He opened his eyes to see Malfoy looking delightfully rumpled, his blond hair mussed and grey eyes blurred with sleep. It made Harry want to tangle his fingers in the pale strands and mess them up even more while he kissed the pout off his partner's face.

"I guess that's our alarm call," Harry replied, yawning and scratching his belly. Fuck, his usual morning erection could crack rocks. Why on earth didn't he own any pyjamas again? He sighed with relief as Malfoy was the first to move, sliding elegantly out of bed and stretching like a cat. His top rose to expose an inch of pale skin above his low slung silk pyjama bottoms and Harry swallowed hard as his eyes fell to the shape of Malfoy's cock clad in the black silk. He was clearly going commando under there and was half hard. Harry's prick twitched and he bit his lip to suppress something that might have been a whimper. He dragged his eyes away before Malfoy could catch him looking.

"Don't go back to sleep, Potter," Malfoy's voice was faintly mocking, as usual. "Otherwise there might not be any pumpkin juice left at breakfast."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, willing Malfoy to fuck off so he could get up in peace and use his wash bag and towel to hide his erection. "I'll get up in a minute."

When Malfoy finally left the room, Harry leapt out of bed and grabbed his shower things and made his way down the corridor to make use of the facilities.

When he entered the shower room, the curtains to three of the showers were closed and were obviously inhabited. But there were still three other cubicles that were free, so Harry picked one and pulled the slightly inadequate curtain firmly closed.

His cock had softened a little, but as soon as he stepped under the warm spray it was back at full attention again. The knowledge that he was only a few feet away from a naked, soapy Malfoy didn't make it any easier to ignore. It was no good, Harry was going to have to deal with his not-so-little problem. He jerked himself off quickly and efficiently, feeling like a massive pervert as he heard the other occupants of the shower room going about their ablutions. He had to lean on the tiles to stop his legs giving out underneath him when he came, and bit his lip so hard that he nearly drew blood, but it was totally worth it.

He wrapped his towel firmly around his waist and walked back to their room on slightly shaky legs. He found Malfoy shirtless, fastening his trousers. His platinum hair was darkened with water where it lay wet against his cheeks and slicked to the back of his neck. Harry's eyes took in the lean torso and tight pink nipples and he looked away hurriedly before his prick started to get any ideas about Round Two. Harry turned his back on Malfoy and dressed as fast as he could, not turning around again until he was fully dressed and feeling a little calmer.

"Well I'm ready," Malfoy's eyes raked over Harry, who suddenly felt horribly self-conscious under the blond's scrutiny. He resisted the urge to straighten his clothes or run a hand through his hair which was no doubt a total mess, as usual. "Are you coming downstairs now? Or shall I see you down there?"

"No... I mean... yes. I'm ready," Harry stumbled over his words in confusion. "I'll come now."

Malfoy grinned, shark-like, his silvery eyes unreadable. "Come along then, Potter."


After breakfast they remained down in the hall and were straight into the first session of the day. There was a group of twelve delegates - including Harry and Malfoy - along with Melinda and Tobin who were co-leading the session. House-elves swept in and cleared away every trace of breakfast and the tables vanished with a swish of Melinda's wand.

"Bring your chairs and form a circle please," her voice rang out authoritatively.

Oh, Merlin, here we go. Harry groaned internally, resigning himself to the horror.

Melinda opened the session by formally welcoming them all to the Puzzlewood Centre and went on to outline the structure of the course. The majority of the activities were scheduled for Saturday. It seemed that they were going to be kept busy for the best part of the day with only a short morning and afternoon tea break and a slightly longer break for lunch. After the evening meal they would all be free to relax and recuperate, as she cheerfully put it. And then on Sunday morning there would be a formal debriefing session followed by lunch, after which they were all free to go home.

"I know that most of you are fully aware of why you're here and what the purpose of this course is," she concluded. "But I'm going to hand over to Tobin to explain in a little more detail what we're trying to achieve here." She smiled around at them all and Harry forced a grin back, his palms sweating slightly with nerves.

"So," Tobin smiled around at them. "You're all here because you need to learn to work more effectively together. You're here, because you need to be a team. And you can't be part of a team without trust." Harry felt a muscle flicker in his jaw and resisted the urge to glance sideways at Malfoy, who was sitting poker-straight beside him. "This weekend is all about learning to trust your partner, to rely on them, to break down the boundaries between you in order to make this possible." Harry flinched a little at the thought of breaking down the carefully-constructed and maintained boundaries between Malfoy and himself. He really wasn't sure it was advisable, but he didn't appear to have any choice in the matter.

The first activity was a simple 'ice-breaker' as Tobin called it. Harry sneaked a look at Malfoy as Tobin explained the activity. He looked impassive but Harry knew him well enough to see the tell-tale signs of discomfort. His pale fingers were clenched tight on his knee and there was a glacial quality to his expression that nearly made Harry snigger despite himself - an ice-breaking activity suddenly seemed very appropriate.

Tobin conjured a glowing sphere with a flick of his wand and explained the rules. "This is just a way of helping us learn all the names in the group." He looked around at them all. "First we'll pass the sphere around the circle. When it reaches you, say your name to the group. We'll go round a couple of times so we have a chance to remember each other's names." He smiled encouragingly. "Then once we've done that we will pass the ball back and forth around the group randomly. You'll say your name as you pass the ball, and say the name of the person that you're sending it to. Then they will say their name, and someone else's name as they pass the ball to them. Is that clear?" They all nodded and murmured their agreement. "Oh, and I almost forgot," Tobin added. "This weekend, you will all call each other by your first names, we don't use surnames or titles here at Puzzlewood."

Harry's eyes snapped to Malfoy immediately. Draco, he thought. Fuck... I can't call him Draco! Harry felt panicky suddenly and realised how ridiculous he was being, but he couldn't control it. Merlin knew what they would have them doing together later and he was already freaking out at the thought of using Malfoy's first name. He was utterly doomed.

The game was tedious but effective. After five minutes or so, Harry was able to remember the name of everyone in the room. But he managed to avoid passing the ball to Malfoy, and Malfoy seemed to be avoiding passing it to Harry too. Harry thought that they'd got away with it at first, but then he noticed Melinda eyeing them curiously and had a sneaking suspicion that she's noticed their evading tactics. She didn't challenge them on it though, and they succeeded in getting through the ice-breaker without actually having to address each other by their given names.

After that exercise was over they were split up into their pairs and asked to move their chairs and find a space to sit on the floor cross-legged, facing each other. Malfoy's body language conveyed his horror at the instructions, but he didn't say anything. He made quite a show of flicking his wand and ensuring that the floor was free of dust and crumbs before sitting down though. Harry snorted at him and Malfoy gave him a quelling look.

"Okay," Melinda clapped her hands to get their attention. "During this next activity you're going to be learning to be more comfortable with proximity to your partner." Harry and Malfoy's eyes met briefly at this, and Harry felt his cheeks flush hot as he ripped his eyes away and focused his attention back on Melinda as she continued. "But this isn't just about physical proximity, it's also about being aware of your magical field and that of your partner's and allowing them to blend, to let the other person in, if you will. To start with, you need to hold both hands out towards your partner, palms facing. You need to be close, but not touching." She looked around the room as they all began to follow her instructions.

Harry lifted his hands tentatively feeling utterly ridiculous and met Malfoy's gaze again, Malfoy rolled his eyes at him and quirked his lips in a surprising expression of camaraderie and amusement that made Harry relax a little.

Malfoy lifted his hands too and brought them close, palm to palm but with just a whisper of space between them. His fingers were slightly longer than Harry's, and slimmer, paler. Harry felt a peculiar twist of longing that he tamped down, not willing to give it headspace right now. His breath felt shaky as he fought to control it, and eyes flickered up to Malfoy's, holding the curious grey gaze for a moment.

"First, I just want you to be aware of the warmth between you," Melinda was saying. "Even when you're not touching, you can feel the other person. If it helps, you can close your eyes at first." Harry clamped his eyes shut immediately, grateful for the excuse to tone down the intensity between them. He wondered if he was the only one who was feeling this confusion, this turmoil. Malfoy's impassive stare had given nothing away, but Harry didn't think he'd imagined the tell-tale flush on Malfoy's pale cheeks. Perhaps he wasn't as cool about all of this as he looked.

"Now I want you to allow your magic to touch," Melinda said, her voice smooth and even. "Imagine your magical field surrounding you, like an aura. And where your hands are almost touching, be aware of how your magic is in contact with that of your partner. Feel how it interacts."

Harry kept his eyes closed as he allowed himself to feel his magic. He was so used to living with the reality of it that he took it for granted as much as he did his skin or his hair. It was a part of him. But as he allowed himself to relax and really feel it, he became aware of it like a tingling warmth, surrounding him, protecting him. He focused his attention on his hands, pushing out with his magic to where it blurred with Malfoy's. There was a fizzing sensation, that sent a skitter of excitement up Harry's spine. His eyes shot open again and he found Malfoy looking back at him, his grey eyes dark and lips parted in surprise.

Harry felt his cheeks flame as he looked down to where their hands were almost touching. There was nothing to see, but he could feel it so intensely. His magic lapping at Malfoy's, tasting, assessing. And Malfoy's doing the same to him. There was a sensation of heat building that made Harry feel a little dizzy, and as though his trousers were suddenly rather on the small side.


He snatched his hands away abruptly, wiping his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans, refusing to look up at Malfoy's face. And then he heard someone clearing his throat beside them and looked up as Tobin crouched down beside them.

"You, okay guys?" he smiled at them reassuringly. "This can be an intense exercise. Sometimes your magic can surprise you."

"We're fine, thank you," Malfoy's voice was perfectly polite and unruffled. Harry wondered how he managed to sound so calm. Surely he had felt it too. "Aren't we, Potter?"

"First names remember," Tobin raised his eyebrows in a gentle reminder.

Malfoy flushed then, and Harry suppressed a smirk at seeing that cool exterior slip. "Of course," his grey eyes flashed as he addressed him directly. "Harry," he paused. "You're okay, yes?"

"Yep, fine thanks... Draco." It tasted unfamiliar on Harry's lips, soft and lyrical compared to the angles and sharpness of his surname.


Harry was glad of the tea break. Not because he was particularly thirsty, but because he felt so ridiculously keyed-up and uncomfortable after the weirdness of the first session. He needed time to get his scattered thoughts back into some semblance of order.

House-elves brought in urns of tea and coffee and trays of cake and biscuits, but Harry had no appetite. He clutched his cup of tea as though it was a lifebelt and lurked in a corner, not in the mood for making polite conversation.

Malfoy was in perfect-mannered pure-blood mode, circulating and talking to various other people. Maybe it was a coincidence but he seemed to be carefully avoiding getting too close to Harry.

Melinda brought the group back together as the house-elves vanished the tables again, leaving the room bare. Then Tobin conjured an array of squashy comfortable-looking cushions and beanbags and rugs to cover the wooden floor of the hall.

"In this next session we're going to work at getting you more comfortable with physical proximity," he announced. Sit with your partner anywhere you like in the room, feel free to move the cushions around to find a space where you can relax. "Breaking down the physical barriers in your relationship can help you move forward and develop trust, which is what this weekend is all about." Tobin's voice rang out as they all began to move, shuffling uncomfortably and grabbing cushions, uneasy muttering coming from all sides.

Harry was only slightly comforted to realise that every person in the room, with the exception of the instructors, was probably feeling as mortified as he was right now - although maybe not for exactly the same reasons. Harry dreamed about being in very close physical proximity with Malfoy on a regular basis, so he wasn't exactly averse to the idea. It was just that in his dreams there were usually less clothes, no audience, and Malfoy was totally up for it. Harry glanced at the blond and noticed his set expression and clenched jaw. He was giving nothing away, as usual. Harry remembered the gentle way that Malfoy had removed his glasses last night, and how he had stood over Harry watching him while he thought he was sleeping. His chest clenched with longing and the desperate hope that maybe - just maybe - Malfoy might actually fancy Harry too.

Five minutes later Harry was sitting, cross legged, facing Malfoy with their knees touching. Harry was counting backwards in sevens from a thousand in order to try and stop himself from getting hopelessly aroused by what was supposed to be a trust-building exercise, not a lust-building one.

Tobin had them giving hand massages to each other and Harry was on the receiving end first. Malfoy was turning out to be surprisingly good at this. His fingers were cool as they stroked Harry's palm and kneaded the ball of his thumb. He explored the shape of Harry's fingers, teasing the sensitive tips and then worked his way back across Harry's palm to draw careful circles on the soft skin of Harry's wrist. Harry wondered whether Malfoy could feel his pulse thudding beneath his fingertips. He took a deep breath as he felt his magic flare and reach out for Malfoy's and the answering tingle of Malfoy's pushing back.

By the time they swapped roles Harry was hopelessly aroused. He thanked Merlin that his jeans were reasonably baggy to sufficiently hide his erection. He hunched forward and leaned his elbows onto his knees to hide it further as he took Malfoy's pale hand in his. The skin was mostly smooth, softer than Harry's, but with noticeable calluses from his broom. Harry found himself tracing these with his fingertips and Malfoy's hand flexed in his as he did so. Harry started to try and replicate the way that Malfoy had touched his hand, remembering how it felt and trying to do the same. He bit his lip, eyes fixed on Malfoy's hand, afraid to look up and risk meeting his gaze. Harry's erection was a dull ache in his jeans and his whole body felt hot and uncomfortable. But he ignored it, focusing on the feel of Malfoy's hand in his and the delicate touch of their combined magic, like a soothing caress at the edge of his consciousness.

After the hand massage they moved onto head and neck massage which was a new form of delicious torture. Harry only barely resisted moaning with pleasure as Malfoy's gentle fingers slipped through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

"I'm amazed I can get my hands through your bird's nest, Potter... Harry," Malfoy corrected himself, his voice low and close to Harry's ear, the warmth breath of it making Harry shiver. "It's not as tangled as it looks."

"Fuck off," Harry muttered back. But his voice was breathy and utterly unconvincing. Malfoy just chuckled behind him and started kneading a tight muscle in Harry's neck, rendering Harry speechless at the sensation.

Malfoy's hair proved to be exactly as soft and silky as it looked. Malfoy lay with his head on a strategically-placed cushion in Harry's lap, curled up like a relaxed cat, as Harry let his fingers slide through the pale, silky strands. He almost expected the blond to start purring as he closed his eyes, obviously enjoying the sensation of Harry's touch.

"You're quite good at this you know," Malfoy observed, eyes still shut. "If you ever fuck up your Auror career you could do this as a new day job. I'd pay you."

Harry had no idea how to reply to that, so he ignored Malfoy and carried on rubbing circles into the delicate skin at Malfoy's temples.


As soon as Tobin announced the end of the session, Malfoy snapped out of the trance-like state that he'd apparently been reduced to with such speed that it nearly gave Harry whiplash. He leaped out of Harry's lap as though Harry's fingers were burning him and Harry felt a strange sensation as his magic tried to hold onto Malfoy, like the gentle ping of elastic as his magical field snapped back around him, lonely and abandoned.

The newfound intimacy between them vanished abruptly and although they sat beside each other at lunch, Malfoy virtually ignored Harry, talking to the people opposite and on the other side of him. Meanwhile, Harry picked miserably at his food and wondered what the fuck was going on in that infuriating blond head.

After lunch they were ushered outside to start the afternoon activities. They gathered on the lawn behind the centre. It was a dry, spring day, fairly warm and sunny but there had been rain overnight and the grass was damp and muddy in places. Malfoy winced visibly as he stepped off the gravel of the path and onto the grass.

"They did tell us to bring sensible shoes," Harry grinned.

Malfoy just glared at him. "It's nothing a cleaning charm won't fix, Potter. Damn it... Harry." He rolled his eyes as Melinda noted their exchange with a beady eye.

"Right, folks," she rubbed her hands together. "We'll start with a quick trust exercise. Basically you're going to take it in turns to be the faller and the catcher. The faller will stand with their back to their partner and allow themselves to fall backwards. The catcher's job is to catch them and keep them upright. Decide between yourself who will take which role first."

"Okay," Harry looked at Malfoy and shrugged. "What do you want to do first?"

"I'll catch," Malfoy said immediately.

Harry quirked his eyebrows. "You do realise that you're going to have to fall afterwards."

"Of course," he snapped back. "Doesn't mean I need to like it."

"Don't you trust me?" Harry felt slightly hurt. He was well aware that they had their differences, but Harry felt that something had shifted in their relationship already this weekend and was surprised at Malfoy's obvious discomfort at putting his safety in Harry's hands. "I'm hardly going to let you fall on your arse deliberately, especially with the instructors watching am I?" Harry rolled his eyes. "I mean, I assume they will be reporting back to Kingsley and I don't know about you... but I don't want to have to give up another weekend to do trust building activities with you." His voice rang out sharply, the irritation clear.

Malfoy just glared at him. "You'd better not."

"Likewise," Harry snapped back. "Well come on then, are you ready?" He turned his back on Malfoy, irritation making him tense.

"Ready when you are," Malfoy replied.

Harry took a deep breath, surprised by how much his heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through his system. He knew that Malfoy would catch him. He did trust him... but it still felt very strange allowing himself to fall backward deliberately. But he did it, the trees and sky tilting as he fell, weightless for just a moment before strong arms seized him under his armpits and clamped across his chest, holding him tight.

Harry flailed for a moment, until Malfoy shoved him forward and Harry regained his balance. He turned, straightening his jumper which had got all bunched up when Malfoy caught him. "Thanks," he said gruffly.

"It was awfully tempting to drop you," Malfoy observed with a curve of his lips and a quirk of an eyebrow. "But I managed to resist."

"Come on, then," Harry said, holding out his arms in readiness. "Your turn."

Malfoy turned his back on Harry and there was a brief pause. Then he collapsed backwards, falling suddenly. The job of catching was harder than Harry had expected. He caught Malfoy awkwardly, the surprising weight of his partner's lean body limp and relaxed in his arms. He found his nose full of sweet-smelling blond hair as his arms closed reflexively around Malfoy's torso. Harry's heart pounded and it felt as though time stood still for a moment.

"Um... Harry," Malfoy somehow managed to say his name with audible inverted commas around it. "You can put me down now."

"Sorry!" Harry let go abruptly, and Malfoy damn nearly did fall on his arse as the sudden support was taken away.

"Merlin's beard, you're supposed to help get me upright first, idiot!" Malfoy stumbled, turning to glare at Harry.

"Sorry," Harry said again, grinning despite himself. And then Malfoy chuckled, a surprising bark of laughter and Harry joined in, warmth uncurling in his chest.


After the falling and catching game they took part in a blindfold walk. The pairs took turns to be blindfolded while the seeing partner guided them around a short course in the grounds of the Puzzlewood Centre. For this activity they had to rely on verbal communication alone, physical contact was not permitted as the exercise was aimed at improving their listening skills as well as trust between the pairs.

Harry and Malfoy managed the course fairly successfully. There was a slight incident with Harry walking into a tree that he blamed Malfoy for, but Malfoy maintained that he'd been rushing in typical Gryffindor fashion and displaying a characteristic lack of caution. Harry got childish revenge when it was Malfoy's turn to be blindfolded by deliberately making him walk through an unpleasantly muddy puddle. He acted the innocent when Malfoy complained about it, claiming that he hadn't noticed it because he was too concerned with ensuring that Malfoy didn't walk into any trees. He wasn't entirely sure that Malfoy was convinced by his argument but he let it go.

By the afternoon tea-break the atmosphere between them was much improved again from the tension of lunchtime. They sat together and chatted and bickered, and practised calling each other by their first names until it almost stopped feeling weird every time they did it. But Harry still thought of Malfoy as Malfoy in his head. He wondered whether they would go back to using their surnames when they were away from the instructors; he suspected that would be the case.

The final activity of the day was a three-legged scavenger hunt. Each pair had their legs strapped together by magical bonds that would be released automatically when they crossed the finish line. They were given a list of items to find and collect from various places around the grounds of the Centre.

"This is your chance to put everything that you've learned today into practice," Tobin instructed them. "This task is impossible unless you co-operate, you're totally dependent on your partner. You can take any route that you like to find the items on your list, but you aren't permitted to use magic to get them. Are you all ready?" He looked around to check. "Okay, off you go - good luck!"

"Come on," Malfoy snapped, wrapping his arm tightly around Harry's shoulders. "Move!"

Harry put his arm around Malfoy's waist, this was the most comfortable way to arrange themselves as the Slytherin was the taller of the two by an inch or so. The feeling of Malfoy pressed up against him from ankle to shoulder was disconcerting to say the least, but Harry pulled himself together and they managed to find a clumsy rhythm, moving their bound legs and their free ones alternately as they broke into a clumsy run.

"Where first?" Harry panted, unsure whether he was breathless from running or from his proximity to the object of his wank fantasies.

Malfoy frowned at the piece of paper that was clutched in his free hand. "We need to find a daffodil, there were some at the front of the Centre, I saw them through the window. This way."

He lurched, nearly pulling Harry over as he turned to move.

"Merlin, Malfoy, give a man some warning will you?" Harry grumbled.

"It's Draco, Harry... remember?" he turned and gave Harry a wolfish grin that made Harry stumble again, feeling as though his own feet were tied together as something hot lurched inside him. Okay, Draco it is then, he thought.

Twenty minutes later they were both hot and sweaty, panting and dishevelled. The bag in Harry's hand was starting to get heavy but they only had one item left to find.

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be the competitive ones," Harry muttered as Draco snapped at him to 'get a fucking move on' for what felt like the fiftieth time.

"Oh come on, Harry," he smirked, and Harry flushed at the sound of Draco saying his name when there was nobody around to hear them. "You know how much Slytherins hate to lose."

The last item they had to find was a magnolia leaf. They were stumbling through the wooded area at the bottom of a slope that led down away from the main building. Draco was getting increasingly irate and Harry was getting increasingly fed up with being dragged around.

"There must be a fucking magnolia tree here somewhere," Draco whirled around again, nearly unbalancing Harry who clutched tighter as his waist for support. At some point Draco's shirt and jumper had got rucked up and Harry found his thumb coming into contact with the warm skin of Draco's hip. He hooked his fingers into Draco's belt loops and hung on for dear life.

"We're supposed to be a sodding team," Harry growled at him. "Will you stop dragging me around like a bloody rag doll and warn me when you want to shoot off in a new direction?"

But Draco just ignored him, and set off at a run again, pulling Harry along with him as though he weighed nothing. He really was surprisingly strong for all his willowy build, Harry reflected with exasperation.

That was the last thing that Harry remembered thinking before the world turned upside down and he was falling, pulling Draco down with him as they landed in an ungainly heap in the middle of an extremely cold and unpleasantly muddy puddle. Harry was sprawled on his back with Draco half on top of him, their bound legs twisted uncomfortably and Draco's bony hip sticking into Harry's thigh.

"For fuck's, fucking sake, Potter!" Draco was spitting feathers. "You clumsy, bloody idiot."

Harry just stared at him, the urge to fight or argue back wiped out by the warm weight of Draco's body on top of his and the fresh tang of Draco's sweat surrounding him.

"Harry," he said quietly.

"What?" Draco looked confused.

There was a splash of mud on Draco's cheek. Harry brought his thumb up to his mouth, licked it and used it to wipe the mud away. Draco's eyes watched as Harry's tongue flicked out and then lingered on Harry's lips.

"It's Harry, not Potter," Harry reminded him, his hand curling around the back of Draco's neck. Oh, fuck it, he thought. And he pulled Draco close and crushed their lips together in a messy, and slightly muddy, kiss.

Draco stiffened for a moment, unresponsive, but then relaxed in Harry's arms and gave as good as he got. Harry parted his lips as Draco licked into his mouth, their tongues touched and slid together, lips were sucked on and grazed with teeth.

Draco pulled away first, gasping for breath, his eyes fierce and hot. "You taste like mud," he wrinkled his nose. But Harry's outraged laugh was smothered by Draco's lips as he dove back down and kissed Harry again, his fingers tangling in Harry's wet hair as they began to move together, unconsciously at first, then seeking more stimulation as they both grew hard and desperate.

Harry groaned as Draco moved his mouth to suck on the pulse below Harry's jaw, "We can't do this here."

"Shut up," Draco's voice was muffled as he licked and sucked harder, adding some teeth into the mix and making Harry yelp. "Of course we can."

"Draco, I'm freezing and lying on my arse in a muddy puddle," Harry protested. "You're hot and everything, but there's a time and a place and this is not it. Plus..." he added, looking over Draco's shoulder, "we've found a magnolia tree."

"What?" Draco lifted his head, finally distracted. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was sticking up in all directions, wrecked by Harry's muddy hands.

"Look up," Harry grinned. "We managed to fall under a magnolia tree. So now can we please get out of this puddle and continue this later somewhere warmer and drier, without all the mud?"


A half-arsed cleaning charm was no substitute for a proper shower. The tension crackled between them as they stripped off their dirty clothes and wrapped towels around themselves. Harry ogled Draco's arse shamelessly as he bent to slip off his boxers and blushed furiously when Draco looked over his shoulder and caught him.

"Like what you see?" he grinned. "It's dinner in half an hour so you'll have to wait until later to get into my pants."

Harry adjusted his towel, feeling his prick starting to fill in anticipation. Draco's eyes dropped to the bulge and he stared deliberately, unashamed. His blatant interest didn't help the situation going on under Harry's towel in the slightest. He clutched his wash bag over his erection and made a dash for the door, listening to the sound of Draco's laughter as he made his way down the corridor to the shower room.

Standing under the hot spray, Harry gripped his cock tightly. Not wanking simply wasn't an option right now, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn't. He came within a couple of minutes, gasping silently, his body quaking as his cum hit the tiled wall and was washed away by the stream of water.

As Harry stepped out of the cubicle, his towel tight around his waist again, Draco stepped out of the one beside him with a smug grin on his face.

"Nice wank?" he quirked his eyebrows, and then let out a peal of laughter as Harry's flaming face answered his question. He stepped close and murmured in Harry's ear, his voice filthy. "Me too. It's all good, it means you'll last longer later when you fuck me."

And bam - Harry was hard again. Devious Slytherin bastard.


Dinner passed in a blur of sexual frustration, attempted polite conversation and rather too-knowing looks from Melinda and Tobin. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that they'd picked up on the change in his relationship with Draco. Their rumpled hair and kiss-swollen lips had probably been a clue when they finally crossed the finish line for the scavenger hunt (in last place). And when Harry had looked in the mirror after his shower, he'd noticed that Draco had sucked an embarrassingly obvious mark into his neck, so that was probably a bit of a giveaway too.

They sat slightly closer together than they really needed to, and Harry could feel the warmth of Draco's thigh against his under the table and the pulse of magic between them. Harry could feel the impatience, as though his magic was a separate entity that wanted Draco as much as he did.

They made their escape as soon as they could without being rude, both eating pudding - Draco didn't turn down chocolate fudge cake for anyone - but declining coffee and claiming tiredness with exaggerated yawns. Harry avoided catching Draco's eye as they said their goodnights to the others. He didn't trust himself not to give them away by eye-fucking him blatantly in front of the entire room.

As soon as they were out of sight of the doorway and halfway up the stairs, Draco took Harry's wrists in a tight grip and pinned him up against the rough wooden wall, hands over his head. He pushed his tongue into the heat of Harry's mouth and ground against him with a dirty, deliberate rhythm that had Harry dangerously close to the edge already after just a few minutes of kissing.

"Fuck... Draco!" he pulled his mouth away, gasping. "We have a perfectly good room, how about we use it?"

"Mmhmm, fucking sounds good to me," Draco drawled, licking the mark on Harry's neck and grabbing at his cock through his trousers.

Harry pushed him off. "Move then!" he growled, "or I'll bend you over on the bloody stairs if you keep teasing me."

Draco's eyes flashed with heat at that, but he grinned and released Harry's wrists.

In their room, with the door closed behind them, they faced each other in silence for a moment and Harry suddenly had a moment of panic. What was he doing? Were they making a huge mistake?

"Um," he hesitated, "are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Draco replied taking a step forward.

"Don't you think we should... maybe... talk about it first?"

"No," Draco moved closer still, stripping off his shirt and reaching for Harry's t-shirt, pulling it up and off.

"It's just that..." Harry stuttered as Draco toed off his shoes and reached for the button on Harry's jeans.

"For fuck's sake!" Draco exclaimed. "I've been waiting for years to get into your pants, Potter. You clearly want this. I want this too. Can we just fuck first and talk later please?"

"Harry," Harry said.

"Harry," Draco pushed Harry's trousers and pants down around his thighs and took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly as it flexed in his grip. "I really want you to fuck me... Harry. Please?"

"Okay," Harry gave in, reaching for Draco's belt. After all, it wasn't as though this wasn't what he wanted. Talking could wait.

There was some impatient pulling off of trousers and a little issue with forgetting to take Harry's shoes off first. At which point Draco promptly vanished them along with Harry's socks but Harry couldn't be bothered to get cross about it while he had Draco's clever mouth and tongue wrapped around his prick. Presumably he could borrow one of Draco's four matching pairs tomorrow if needs be.

When they were both finally naked, Draco pushed Harry down onto one of the ridiculously narrow beds and crawled over him. He reached for his wand and transfigured the two beds into one normal-sized double bed that filled all the space in the tiny room. "That's better," he muttered, and knelt back down to suck at Harry's cock again.

Harry lay back and tangled his fingers in Draco's hair, his hips hitching instinctively, pushing himself deeper into the slick heat of Draco's mouth.

"If you want me to fuck you, you're going to need to stop doing that soon," Harry gasped, pulling at the blond head.

Draco released him with a pop and grinned up at him. "Oh yes, I definitely want you to fuck me - if that's agreeable?"

"Absolutely," Harry chuckled. "Although... just for the record, I'm versatile, so whichever works for you."

"Splendid," Draco crawled over him, grinding their erections together as he leaned in for a kiss. "I'm up for anything. But, right now, I really want your cock in my arse."

He rolled over, pulling Harry with him so that Harry was on top, lying between the lean sprawl of Draco's legs. Harry ran his hands up Draco's thighs, feeling the tickle of the fine blond hairs, then wriggled down the bed to nuzzle at the thicker honey-coloured hair in Draco's groin, mouth watering at the musky scent. He moved his hand up to stroke Draco's balls, reaching back with his fingers as he licked up his cock, tasting the saltiness at the tip. Harry muttered a wandless lubrication charm and felt the shiver of magic as his fingers probed, slippery now, making Draco arch and push back against him. Harry sucked Draco's cock into his mouth as he worked him open. He was tight, but opened easily for Harry, pulling him in and clenching around his fingers as Harry twisted and curled them until Draco cried out and pulled at Harry's hair.

"Please," his voice was hoarse and urgent, shockingly loud in the small space.

They both froze as they heard the creaking footsteps of someone in the corridor outside. Harry grinned and cast a Silencing charm. He didn't want Draco to need to be quiet, he wanted to hear him.

Harry let his fingers slide out of Draco and pushed his thighs wider, tilting his hips back as he lined his cock up and pressed inside. Draco's face was tight with tension as Harry slid in, as slowly and carefully as he could manage, and when he was all the way inside, he paused until Draco grabbed his hips and pulled, encouraging him to move.

Harry leaned down to kiss him as they rocked together, bodies entwined. He tasted Draco's lips again, licked at the faint salt of his neck, traced his collar bones with his tongue. Meanwhile Draco's hands were gripping Harry's hips and sliding around to clutch his arse, drawing him in deeper, urging him to move faster.

"Harder," Draco hissed, desperate and needy and Harry pulled back to see his face.

The sight of Draco spread out beneath Harry, flushed and panting, his prick swollen and leaking on his belly, drove Harry to the edge. "Fuck," he groaned. "I'm close..."

Draco reached for his cock, gripping it hard and tugging quickly. Harry was suddenly aware of their magic pulsing around them, binding them together. And as Draco arched and came in hot, sticky spurts over his stomach and hand, magic and lust surged and uncoiled deep inside Harry, his orgasm ripping through him. Harry pulsed and spilled inside the clenching heat of Draco's body until he was spent and shattered. Then he collapsed forwards on Draco's chest and lay there until his breathing slowed, dimly aware of gentle hands tracing patterns on his back as his prick softened and slipped free.

A little later, Draco reached for his wand and Harry heard a whisper and felt the cool tingle of a Cleaning charm. Careful fingers pulled his glasses off where they were knocked askew on Harry's face and set them aside, and a quiet Nox plunged the room into darkness.

"Thanks," Harry shifted his weight off the blond and they pulled the covers up, curling easily around each other as though they'd been doing it for years.

"Well that was fun," Draco smiled lazily, tugging on Harry's hair and pressing his nose against the skin of Harry's neck, his breath tickling a little.

"Mmhmm," Harry agreed sleepily.

"Good to know that we can make a good team when we try," Draco yawned, and curled his hand around Harry's waist, pulling him closer. "With a bit of regular practice I think we'll manage to co-operate just fine from now on, what do you say?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry felt a smile stretch across his face as his eyes fluttered closed. "I'm definitely up for more of that."


In the morning Harry was woken in the best possible way, and reciprocated once he'd stopped shuddering and had got his breath back.

They were late for breakfast and Melinda positively smirked at them as they took their seats.

"She definitely knows," Harry whispered, leaning close to Draco.

"Maybe we can turn that to our advantage," Draco smirked. "How do you feel about skipping out early and coming back to my flat for the rest of the day?"

"I'd like nothing more... but we have to stay for the de-briefing," Harry looked frustrated.

"Leave it to me," Draco poured tea for both of them, adding the perfect amount of milk to Harry's. "What?" he grinned when Harry thanked him, looking surprised. "Of course I know how you have your tea, I've been working with you long enough. I just used to get it wrong on purpose to annoy you." He sounded utterly unrepentant. But as Draco brought his cup to his lips, Harry remembered how he'd looked with his mouth on Harry's cock in the dim morning light of their room, and found that he couldn't be bothered to be annoyed.

After breakfast, Draco approached Melinda and exchanged a few quiet words with her. Harry caught them looking at him, and she was nodding and smiling as Draco gestured in his direction.

Draco moved back over to Harry with a smug grin on his face and pushed him towards the door, groping his arse with a spectacular lack of subtlety as he did so.

"Time to pack" he announced. "We're free to go!"

"But what about the de-briefing?" Harry protested as Draco continued pushing him, up the stairs now, his hands still all over Harry's arse in a very distracting way.

"I told her that we'd been called back to the office for an emergency meeting about a very important, top secret case," Draco squeezed one of Harry's buttocks as they walked along the corridor, making him yelp. "But that we had resolved our differences and would schedule our own de-briefing in the office next week."

Harry snorted. "I can only imagine how that'll go."

"I fancy having you bent over my desk," Draco pushed Harry into their room, voice filthy-hot in Harry's ear. "With your briefs around your ankles."

Harry swallowed, the bob of his throat tight as he suppressed a whimper. "That ought to do it."

"But in the meantime..." Draco turned and put the furniture back to normal with a casual flick of his wand, then levitated his suitcase up onto his bed. "Let's go back to my place and fuck like bunnies for the rest of the weekend, yes?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Harry with a grin.