Punishment and Reward
By Dimgwrthien
Disclaimer: Please do not sue. I do not own Harry Potter nor its affiliates. Thank you.
Happy Christmas, Aphoenix.
Harry had never admits to Ron what he really spent the nights away from the Common Room doing.
That includs one cold night in December, right before Christmas. Patches of snow line the windows, turning the corridors into icy igloos and the scenery around the school into something marvelous.
The Owlery has a light frost over the balcony, letting Harry feel the pure snow against his skin. The fifth year at Hogwarts sits on the window, glancing into the room as he holds his breath. Someone would need to clean out the room soon. However, it seems to be the only place Draco ever agrees to meet him in.
Finally, when Harry fells as though his lungs would collapse from the lack of fresh air, Draco enters the room, frowning in distaste at the owl droppings.
I hope you know that this place is worthy of you, he tells Harry, letting his cloak fall around his shoulders. He has on a jumper, sleek and stylish on his thin frame. Harry nods, listening as Draco corrects himself. You're worthy of this place.
If Harry stands in the right place, he can feel the snow hit him, melting on his warm skin. Streams of breath are clearly visible in the air.
Harry says he wants to go some place warmer. Anywhere, he growls, staring out at the snow-covered grounds below. If he moves enough, he can see right below the tower, leaning over enough to be pushed off. He hopes Draco won't push.
I'm not going to be seen, Draco answers, pushing Harry. He does not let the boy fall. Instead, he pushes him low into the bottom of the balcony, letting Harry slid against the sharp brick, scratching at his back. Draco pulls off Harry's robes, letting them fall to the side, still far from his own.
He purrs comforting words into Harry's ears, telling him it'll be fine. Harry merely smiles as he hears the words. They're lies. It hurts. But he likes it. He's always liked Draco and his power. Slytherins seem bearable when Draco is around.
Sometimes, during nights like these, Harry wishes he could have been in Slytherin. The thought always leaves him by morning, though.
You'll take what you get, Draco warns Harry, because you deserve it. You've been good and you've been bad.
Harry knows he's been good to Draco. He always does his best around Draco. His rewards are always nice. Cho never gives Harry enough, and he grows lonely sometimes. Draco's always there to help with those days.
Tonight, Draco really joins Harry. The two of them stay close to the ground, ignoring the cold around them, ignoring everything but each other. No one can see them, they know, and it's late. Darkness falls over them like a thick blanket.
Leaning forward over Harry, Draco takes complete control. Harry never minds. Draco's powerful, and he always does well. Harry feels inexperienced compared to the Slytherin.
The walls back into Harry's shoulder blades, making him feel uncomfortable, but that's how Draco likes it. The Slytherin's stronger, even his tongue is stronger, and he can push into Harry's mouth faster than anything.
Draco never really liked Pansy. She's ugly, he tells Harry, and she lusts after every man. His words are muffled because they reach Harry's mouth before his ears. She's with Theodore or maybe even that Blaise. While they kiss, Harry hears Draco whisper about how much he hates that Blaise for stealing her. He's good looking, he admits, still snarling, but he's a pervert. Harry doesn't know this Blaise, but assumes he's bad. Draco sometimes mentions Blaise's mother, who marries herself off to every other rich man.
Harry never likes to say that Draco's parents probably did the same. Besides, he can't talk with that moist tongue in his throat.
You've been good, Draco whispers sometimes, resting long enough for Harry to huddle against the wall, to get warm again. I think you're done. Potter, this is always your punishment.
Harry has never felt that way. It's his reward.
Sometimes, Draco whispers, you've been a bad boy. You need to finish your punishment. He slips down his pants. Harry does not admit that he does not find it a punishment, but takes what he gets. It's comforting Draco, after all. Draco deserves some amount of comfort. Harry has indeed seen the times Pansy has grabbed Blaise or Theodore's hand behind Draco's back, moving into their embrace instead of his. However, when Draco asks what he's seen with Pansy, Harry answers that he hasn't seen her.
Sometimes, though, he answers that she's a disgusting slut. Why would I bother with her? It earns him a punishment.
During the punishments, Draco talks about school. Professor Snape's the only good teacher at this school, he always starts. They should just load up all of the teachers and ship them off because they're worthless. Even Snape has his limits. He's too rude, even to us Slytherins.
Draco leans forward and leaves a raw kiss on Harry' face, biting his skin as the lips touch the cool skin.
Harry lets the kiss linger before flecks of snow cover it, cooling his skin once more. Snape hates us, he tells Draco, though the boy gives him a small hit to the side of the face for stopping his punishment.
That old hag, McGonagall, she's the worst, Draco continues, grinding his teeth. She hates us. Always trying to get us to loose the Quidditch games. I'm better at you at Seeker, he reminds Harry. Always. Admit it.
I admit it, Harry replies, not stopping his punishment. It's not a bad punishment, really. You're a good Seeker.
You always win, though, Draco growls. He hits Harry's head once more, this time driving the boy into the wall. Draco curses again and pulls his pants back up, snarling at Harry. Look at what you made me do! He scolds Harry over and over again, bending down to his level. The complaints grow even more quiet as he leans into Harry, kissing his skin again. You're… always… winning, Potter -
Harry smiles to himself, a secret smile, as Draco leans down into his neck, tugging the skin there very lightly with his teeth. After only seconds, he seems to grow aggravated and his small nips become hard bites that almost pierce Harry's skin.
After finishing off the small bites, Draco leans back and gives Harry a small smile. You've been good, he always tells him. I'll see you next week. Until then, don't come near me. I don't want the Slytherins to know. The Gryffindors are all too stupid to know anyway. So are the others. Slytherins are the leaders of this doghouse.
Some mornings, Harry finds himself waking, stiff and cold on the ground, a thin layer of snow covering him. Other times, he wakes to find himself close to Draco in the bed, curtains drawn close around them so that no one can see the sin Draco cast upon the noble house of Slytherin.
But every afternoon, they pass in the halls, exchanging cold looks and insults that they know means something more.