Title: Becoming Us (Part 2)
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione
Warnings: Contains mature language and sexual content
Summary: Harry and Draco have discovered their feelings for each other. Now they must decide whether to keep their relationship a secret or share it with the world. Starts 20 minutes after the conclusion of Part 1 and takes them through the end of their 8th year at Hogwarts. Non-canon Dark Mark backstory.
Author's Note: This is part 2 of 2 stories that follow Harry and Draco from the start of their 8th year to the culmination of their relationship. Please see Becoming Us (Part 1) for the beginning of the story. Contains mature content and language.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoO
Harry Potter lay very still. He had drifted off to sleep for a few minutes, his body sated and comatose with pleasure. He dipped briefly into the land of dreams and when he surfaced into consciousness again he was momentarily disoriented. He was lying naked in his bed on his side and facing his desk. It was day. Why was he sleeping naked during the day? Then he remembered.
He had shagged Draco Malfoy. Well, Draco Malfoy had shagged him. Whatever, they'd shagged each other.
He savored with exquisite detail the sensation of Draco's mouth on his, and Draco's mouth elsewhere. Afterwards they'd curled up together and drifted off. Although, he thought, if that's what had happened, why was he now lying by himself on his side instead of nestled in Draco's arms?
A sick sudden thought occurred to him: Had it really happened? Was he just confused from dreaming? Or had Draco left? What if he had decided it was a mistake and slipped out while he could?
Harry lay frozen, wondering how devastated he would feel if he rolled over and Draco was gone. Or worse, if it seemed he had never been there in the first place. Shagging Draco Malfoy had been on his wishlist for so long, maybe he'd finally gone mad and hallucinated it.
Just then the bed jostled. A warm, lean, naked body rolled over, pressing up against Harry's back and entangling his legs. A pale, bandaged arm slipped around his waist and pulled him close. A hard prick poked his bum.
"Are you pretending to be asleep?" a haughty voice demanded, lips brushing against his ear lobe.
Harry grinned as relief flooded through him. He rolled over, wrapping his arms around the boy in his bed. "How long was I out?"
"Not long," Draco nuzzled Harry, his lips just barely grazing the other boy's as he spoke. "Twenty minutes, maybe." He flicked his tongue out licked Harry's mouth with just the slightest tickle.
Harry couldn't resist. He pulled Draco in and kissed him deeply, marvelling at the wonderful sensation. He'd kissed girls before, just a few but enough to feel experienced, but this was nothing like that. Goosebumps crawled across his skin and he found himself wishing they could stay like this, snogging forever and ever. He'd never wanted to snog forever and ever before.
He reached down and grasped Draco's knob just because he could, and Draco quickly grasped him in return. They worked each other vigorously, breath raw, bodies pressed together, bed creaking beneath them rhythmically. They climaxed in the same moment, gloriously synchronised. Draco insisted this time that Harry find his wand and do a proper clean-up spell.
"Now what?" Harry sat on the edge of the bed and glanced over his shoulder at his Slytherin guest. Malfoy was sprawled luxuriously across the bed, arms behind his head and legs thrown wide. He reached out and snagged Harry's wrist and pulled him down again.
"We've waited too long for this, Potter," he seized Harry's other arm and dragged him across the mattress towards him. "We're not done until we're chapped and sore."
Harry twisted and grappled for freedom, feeling like he'd fallen into a bed of Devil's Snare. Draco laughed and redoubled his efforts to cling to the Gryffindor boy.
"You can't escape me now, Potter," he laughed as Harry reversed his tactics, throwing himself on top of Draco and trying to smush him into submission. "After all this time I've finally got you in bed and you're just going to have to let me have my way with you."
"Not if I have my way first," Harry rolled over and laid on top of Malfoy, his hands on either side of his head. His legs fit comfortably between Draco's legs. Suddenly his stomach growled loudly. 'If I don't die of hunger."
"We can't have that," Draco popped his head up off of the pillow and planted a kiss on Harry's mouth. "Not before we've had a proper shag."
"A proper shag," Harry murmured, thinking about what that entailed. His nether region twitched to signal its interest.
"I need food, too," Draco gently rolled Harry to one side and sat up as his own stomach voiced its need.
The two gathered their clothing and dressed reluctantly. Draco had only his formal clothes, but he chose to carry his jacket rather than putting it on. Harry picked a more casual fitted pullover and corduroys.
'Cloak?" Draco raised his eyebrows.
"I guess so," Harry scratched his nose. "Do we need it?"
"Are you ready to explain to your housemates what I was doing in your room?"
"No, I guess not," Harry scooped the invisibility cloak off of the floor and handed it over.
Draco slipped it over his head and took Harry's arm. They shuffled out carefully, then made their way to the base of the tower stairs. The common room was packed with students, some listening to music, some doing homework, some pawing at each other in a fit of teenage hormones. No one noticed Harry's passage, much to his relief. Malfoy was right, he wasn't ready to explain this.
They exited through the portrait and descended to the main floor before Draco slid the cloak off. He peered around to make sure they were alone, then planted a deep, wet kiss on Harry's lips. It was thrilling, kissing a boy in the corridor like that.
They grabbed a few items from the kitchen and gobbled them down, grateful for the off-hours option now that it was too late for lunch. Then they wandered the school for a bit, holding hands when they were alone, shoving their hands into their pockets when classmates passed by. Ideally Harry should have been in Slughorn's classroom polishing pestles. And ideally Draco should have been down on the quidditch pitch practicing. But neither was inclined to part ways.
They found themselves in the breezeway, arms around each other, caressing backs, shoulders, and hair. They found themselves down by the lake, curled up together at the end of the dock, watching for signs of the giant squid. They found themselves skirting the edge of the forbidden forest, ducking in and out of the shadows and exchanging long kisses up against the crooked tree trunks.
It was exciting and new and thrilling and scary and confusing, all at the same time. Each kiss swept Harry up in a rush of desire, but in between he was conflicted. Kissing Draco felt right, more right than anything he'd ever done before. He'd always known that this was what he wanted, and now it was finally happening. But rationally he knew it was wrong. There were words for what they were doing. His stomach quaked when he thought about what people would say. But that didn't stop him from pressing his mouth against the other boy whenever they ducked out of sight. It was wrong, he thought, but he wasn't going to stop. Not now, not after wanting it for so long. Not when it felt so right.
A week ago he wouldn't have considered kissing Draco Malfoy. He had thought about it a lot, every minute of every day it seemed. But he wouldn't have acted on it. He wouldn't have dreamed that Draco was wrong in the same way Harry was. That someone so amazing wanted him back was almost beyond belief.
And Draco clearly wanted him back. His hands were constantly moving, reaching and touching and pulling Harry close whenever they could. He seemed totally comfortable with his needs, never once pausing to question whether it was natural or whether they should stop. Harry questioned it. He said as much to Draco as they huddled in a dusty, forgotten corridor on the fifth floor as the afternoon faded into evening.
"What we're doing is wrong, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"In what way?" Draco was tracing the curve of Harry's collar bone with his fingertips.
"It's not normal, is it? Two boys, I mean," Harry closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure. He trailed his fingers up Draco's spine, eliciting a similar sigh from the other boy.
"Of course it is," Draco paused and frowned. "I mean, it may not be common, but it happens."
"I know it happens," Harry tried to explain. "But it's not supposed to."
"If it wasn't supposed to happen, it wouldn't happen," Draco said simply.
"If people knew," Harry looked Draco in the eye and marveled at the depth of his gray irises, "they would say-" he couldn't finish, the words caught in his throat.
"No one needs to know," Draco said simply. "Besides, who cares what they say?" He buried his face in Harry's neck, tasting the salty skin there.
Every hair on Harry's body stood on end at the erotic sensation, quieting any response he might have offered. But in the back of his mind he knew what he would have said. He cared what people would say. He wished he didn't but he did. And the part of him that cared trembled at the words. Not enough to stop kissing Draco Malfoy, of course. But tremble nonetheless.
When evening fell they did their duty and joined their assigned houses in the Great Hall for dinner. Harry felt cold and exposed without Draco's arm around him. Strange how his perception had changed so fast. Ron and Hermione were absent, off in London for the weekend. It was the trip Harry was supposed to have been on, tagging along as a third wheel. He imagined bringing Draco Malfoy, walking arm in arm next to his best friends, two couples enjoying the London nightlife. He blanched at the thought. It was an absurd fantasy.
After dinner Draco was waylaid by his team members, all of whom wanted to impress upon him the importance of attending practice. Harry, having no excuse to stay, exited alone as Malfoy responded to his teammates in the most Malfoy of tones: commanding, disdainful, and dismissive. Harry hid a smirk in his sleeve as the Slytherin boy's voice rang clear across the Great Hall and spilled out into the entryway beyond.
He had nothing to do with his evening so he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room and played some wizard chess with Neville. And while it was nice to hang out with his housemates and old friends for a while, it wasn't how he wanted to spend his evening. After winning his third match against Neville, he excused himself to the bathroom for a slash. He paused to wash his hands and looked up at himself in the mirror. He inspected his green eyes closely, looking for signs of new maturity or a more subtle change.
He didn't feel any different, so he wasn't sure why he thought he might look different. He wasn't different, he told himself. So he'd been with a boy, that didn't make him a changed person. He'd always liked boys, so nothing was really different between yesterday and today. The only difference was that he'd done it, he'd done the thing he'd thought about so many times before. It wasn't even worth worrying about, he thought. It wasn't like he'd gone with just any boy, it wasn't like he would go with anyone who came along. He'd been with one specific person who was very special to him. It didn't mean he had changed or should be labeled or have to admit to being a particular way.
He didn't like where this line of thinking was going. His heart pounded and his mind swam. A brief vision of fists and feet and cowering in fear flickered across his mind's eye, but he quickly squashed it down. He thought instead about his last trip to London with Ron and Hermione. Everywhere they went the muggles carried twee little devices that they could use to call or send messages to each other. Sometimes he wished the wizarding world wasn't so opposed to technology, because one of those devices would be handy right now, just to find out where Draco was and what his plans were for the night.
And as he was thinking that, a green spark floated through the white tiled wall and hovered directly in front of him, flashing and sparkling. Harry quickly dried his hands and darted from the boys' bathroom. Neville called after him as he ran past, but he didn't bother answering. He threw the painting door open and slipped out.
He was halfway down the first flight of stairs when he heard his name.
"Where in blazes are you going, Potter?" Draco stood on the landing and stared down at him. The stairwell had already begun its swing across the tower.
"I thought-" Harry was confused. "The breezeway-" he tossed up his hands in frustration, "The bloody beacon doesn't tell me where to go!"
Draco had to raise his voice to be heard as the stairs swung about and made contact with the other wall. "Next time I'll send an owl."
"This sodding staircase is taking too long," Harry complained. It began its slow swing back towards the Gryffindor entrance. He held the railing, standing as close to the free edge as he dared, impatiently waiting to cross back onto the landing. Finally it thudded into place and he jumped at Draco, driving him back to the opposite wall.
"Wait wait," Draco held him off, listening carefully. "Someone is coming up."
Harry cursed and dragged Draco along beneath the enchanted portraits. At the end of the row there was a narrow corridor that ended in an alcove. They ducked out of sight as Harry's housemates climbed into view.
Finally alone, the two boys kissed deeply to make up for the last two hours apart. Harry wished he had planned ahead and brought the invisibility cloak. But Malfoy wasn't moving in the direction of the bedroom. He eventually released Harry's mouth and looked aggrieved.
"I can't stay the night," he said, his voice pained. "Zabini's all over me for missing practice. He knows we're friends and he knows we hung out today. I need to stay in so he doesn't figure out what's going on."
"Do you really think he cares?" Harry's heart was leaden with disappointment.
"More than anyone else," Draco nodded. "He's been trying to take me down for weeks. He would do anything to discredit me and win the favor of Slytherin house."
"I don't know what you mean," Harry was confused, bitter and confused.
"It's a power play," Malfoy seemed surprised that Harry wasn't intimately acquainted with house politics. "I hold the most sway over the underclassmen, but only as long as I command their respect. If Blaise can convince them that I'm not to be respected, he could take my place."
"It's not like that in Gryffindor," Harry shook his head. He took a step back and jammed his hands into his pockets. He didn't understand but he knew what it meant: sleeping alone tonight.
"I can't lose my status," Draco's brow was furrowed. He wasn't sure how to explain the importance to someone who wasn't embroiled in similar social dynamics. "Slytherin doesn't treat those who fall from power well. There could be lifelong consequences from former Slytherins who don't forget."
"I see," Harry lied. "What about tomorrow?"
"I had to agree to practice all day to get them off of my back," Draco's voice was miserable and guilt-ridden.
"Okay," Harry couldn't look at him. He stared at his feet instead.
"Harry," Draco said his name like a sigh of a passing breeze.
Harry had never heard Draco say his name like that before. The knot in his stomach dissolved as he looked up into the other boy's eyes.
"After practice I want to spend the whole night with you," Draco said in the same soft voice.
"Okay," Harry reluctantly agreed. "I guess I need to study tomorrow anyway. Come find me after dinner."
"Absolutely," Draco smiled and folded Harry into his arms. Harry inhaled the warm, masculine scent of the other boy and knew he would be counting the minutes until tomorrow evening.