Title: Breaking Boundaries
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing. The Walking Dead belongs to AMC, Fox etc.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, past Draco/Astoria
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Epilogue compliant to an extent, story takes place 13-years after the war instead of 19 years, Infidelity, Hate-Sex, Angst.
Summary: It's just another day in the Survivor's Camp – Harry is out checking the wards as usual and Draco is…well, Draco wants to have a bit of fun.
Word count: ~1,500
Author's Notes: So I started watching The Walking Dead last night and this…kind of happened. I have no regrets! Except that now it wants more so…may or may not be expanded on later :)

The wards were still holding, thank God.

Harry knelt on the grass, his wand lightly touching the ground before him as he checked to see that the wards were, in fact, still doing their job and that they'd be safe for one more night. It had been touch-and-go recently whether they'd hold – especially after that last attack. A small section had fallen, leaving a gaping hole in their defences that Harry still worried about, even after he, Ron, Neville and Malfoy had spent the majority of the day before fixing it. It only took one careless action and they'd be overrun.

He could still remember what had happened the last time the Inferi had crossed their boundaries…

Shaking his head roughly to banish the memories, Harry made a conscious effort to relax his hand, letting it unfold and releasing the blades of grass he'd pulled up by accident.

"Destroying the wildlife Potter?" A drawling voice called behind him and Harry gritted his teeth. Great – that was just what he needed when he was feeling this maudlin, another confrontation with Malfoy.

"Get lost Malfoy," he called over his shoulder, not bothering to stand.

A shadow fell over him and looked up to see Malfoy standing just behind him, hands on his hips and a sneer on his face.

"You've been here for hours already Potter," he said. "The people at camp are starting to get worried. And you know how annoying they get when they're worried."

Harry rolled his eyes, standing up and brushing down his trousers, looking at the grass stains with a slither of regret. Ginny was sure to make a fuss at him about that. Although just recently she seemed to make a fuss about anything – at least this time he would actually deserve it. The thought put a grim smile on his face.

"Go bother someone else Malfoy." He said, putting his wand away inside his pocket and turning to regard Malfoy who was narrowing his eyes at him.

"Look Potter, I'm bored. The people back there are so terribly, mind-numbingly uninteresting that I'm actually forced to come to you for conversation. Do you have any idea how wrong that is?"

"Go talk to your mother Malfoy, I'm busy." Was Harry's reply as he started off back towards camp, only to be pulled back by Malfoy's hand. He looked down at the offending appendage until Malfoy hastily let go.

The other man made a face, his arms crossing in front of him. "Mother's busy with the other women – they've decided that because the weather's nice they're going to wash all the clothes. I decided to make a strategic retreat when they offered to let me join in."

Harry snorted, "Trying to maintain that masculine front of yours Malfoy?"

Malfoy glared back at him, "I'm a lot more masculine than you Potter – at least I'm not shorter than the majority of the females back in camp."

Harry scowled, knowing that wasn't true but feeling insulted all the same. "No, you're just more attached to your bloody hair than all of them combined."

"That's only because we live with a bunch of trolls masquerading as females," Malfoy replied with another sneer.

Harry just barely resisted punching him in the face. "One of those trolls is my wife Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh yes, and how well is that working? What with her too busy fucking your friend to notice something's wrong with you?"

"Don't talk about my wife that way Malfoy!"

Malfoy was still smirking at him and Harry felt something inside him snap. He grabbed the collar of Malfoy's shirt, pulling him forwards and leaning towards him to bring their lips together.

It wasn't a gentle kiss – far from it. Harry bit at Malfoy's lip hard enough to draw blood. He ignored Malfoy's whimpers and thrust his tongue hard into Malfoy's mouth, taking complete control, twining their tongues together, tasting Malfoy in his own mouth.

A hand snaked down and brushed against his jeans and his hips jerked forward involuntarily, his body shuddering when that hand cupped him through his clothes. Another hand curled around his neck, grabbing a handful of hair and tugging at it harshly, forcing Harry's head back as Malfoy took his turn in plundering Harry's mouth.

It was wet and brutal and Harry could feel his legs shaking from the emotions running through him. His nerves were on fire, his hands frantically tugging at Malfoy's shirt. They pulled back for a moment, just enough time to get Malfoy's shirt off and then Malfoy brought their mouths back together, teeth clanking against each other from the force of it.

Harry's hands touched bare skin, feeling the heat of Malfoy, the slickness of his back as Harry raked his nails up, knowing he'd leave marks and beyond caring. Malfoy deserved to be punished. He was wrong, so so wrong.

Harry wrenched his mouth away, shivering slightly as Malfoy's lips instead started a trail of wet kisses down his neck, sucking at the skin there and making Harry harder than ever.

"I love my wife," he insisted, needing to say, to hear the words even as Malfoy untangled his hand from Harry's hair, bringing it down to tweak his nipple. Harry couldn't help the whimper that rose up inside him, bringing his mouth back to Malfoy's in an attempt to smother it, to smother it all.

Malfoy's lips were smirking against his, "Oh really?" He said, grinding his hand into Harry's crotch. "Then why are you so hard for me? If you love your wife so much, you wouldn't be able to get hard like this with another man."

"This isn't love," Harry replied, gasping when Malfoy unzipped him and thrust his hand into Harry's pants. "This is just…just sex."

Malfoy stilled for a moment, the words seeming to catch him off guard before he continued, wrapping one long-fingered hand around Harry's cock.

"Right, just sex," he replied, giving Harry a hard stare as he started to move his hand, squeezing Harry with just the right amount pressure for Harry to see stars.

He panted, his breath hot and heavy between them, Malfoy's own breath ghosting across his lips. He brought their mouths together again, his hands grabbing at Malfoy's shoulders with a kind of desperate need.

Malfoy pulled and tugged and Harry keened against him, hands clutching and grabbing, his fingernails digging into Malfoy's fragile skin, teeth dragging Malfoy's bottom lip into his mouth. He nibbled and bit and Malfoy just let him, his hand on Harry's cock feeling like heaven.

Harry came against Malfoy, shuddering with his release, his moans swallowed by Malfoy's mouth against his.

His legs were shaking and he leaned heavily against the other man who took most of his weight without a word, just holding him up quietly.

They remained like that for a while until Harry finally regained the strength to pull away.

He ignored Malfoy as he tucked himself away, grabbing his wand and casting a Cleaning Charm on himself. He straightened up his clothes, patted at his hair and fixed his glasses before finally turning to face the other man who seemed to have frozen in place. Malfoy was just staring at Harry silently with what Harry thought was far too much judgement for a man who had once been a Death Eater.

"I love my wife," he said, repeating his earlier words with more conviction this time. "My family are the most important thing in my life and I'm not going to let you ruin what we've built together Malfoy so just…just stay the hell away from me."

He turned away, almost stumbling in his haste to run, to get as far away from Malfoy as possible. He looked over his shoulder only once, a pang filling him when he saw Malfoy was still standing there, one hand in the air as if he'd tried to pull Harry back.

He looked…lost, and lonely and sad. But he wasn't Harry's problem.

Harry had enough things to worry about. He couldn't—wasn't—going to worry about Malfoy as well. He was just a distraction, a way to temporarily forget about all the shit going on around them.

Harry loved his wife. He didn't love Malfoy. He couldn't…he didn't.

And he was going to do his damned best to remember that in future.

The End. …..or is it?