Title: Through the Iris
Author: Penguins Stealing My Sanity
Disclaimer: I shall present my disclaimer in an original poem:
These are not my people
And that makes me weep(le);
This is not my setting
(though I could win it through betting);
But this IS my plot,
Though it may have been used a lot,
And these ARE my words
(and the penguins herd's).
Half is mine; half is not:
The people, the setting; the words, the plot.
And now I ask you please,
From down low on my knees:
"DON'T SUE!"
Thank you.
Summary: Harry begins to feel a strange emotion towards his nemesis, but is he in love or in lust? One-shot, slash, songfic. HPDM
Genre: Romance
Warnings: Slash HarryDraco
Rating: R
Setting: Sixth year sounds good. Totally disregard Half-Blood Prince. Nothing in there ever happened. Therefore, there will be no spoilers. :) Heck, while we're at it, let's forget the END of Order of the Phoenix, too. The beginning and middle still count, but the end never happened. K? Good! No real reason, just that there's a specific character that I want to use who becomes obsolete at the end of OotP. :( Much sadness there. Yeah.
This is for everyone who threatened to steal my penguins if I didn't make another HPDM fic. ;
Another songfic (shocker), and (even more shocking) I used another 10 Years song. They really do have great music. This is my favorite song by them.
Not much I can explain that the summary already didn't… This fic has the same name as the song I used… Uh, yeah. So, read and review! I love reviews! Reviews make the penguins fat and happy, and who doesn't like fat and happy penguins?
first part is Harry's POV.
I'd just like to add that I'm shocked at how many different ways I can make Harry and Draco have sex. It's amazing!
- Through the Iris -
:> By Penguins Stealing My Sanity :>
Eyes…two beautiful gray eyes, staring at me from across the Great Hall. I loved those eyes. I loved the platinum-blonde hair above those eyes, and the perfect nose below the eyes. I love the full, red lips and the sharp chin, and the uncaring slouch. I loved—
Stop it! No, I hate him! I can't…feel like this…I can't, because I hate him.
Cherish
Two circular views of blue with a gray shade
So captivating
More than you know
I must be insane.
That had to be it. It was the only way I could explain it. No sane person would be feeling these kinds of things…
"Harry? Harry, did you hear me?"
"Huh?" I asked, startled, turning to blink in surprise at Hermoine. "What?"
She was frowning at me. "Why is Malfoy staring at you? And why were you staring back?"
I shrugged, trying to stop my heart from thundering against my chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid… "Er…no reason. Just…you know…"
"Yeah," Ron said, nodding, "trying to think up new ways to torture him?"
"More like the other way around," Hermoine mumbled.
"Yeah," I agreed, glancing over my shoulder. Those eyes were still fixed on me, and Malfoy sneered when he saw me looking. I shook my head and turned back around. He hates me, and why shouldn't he? I thought I hated him…but I don't, not really… Merlin, I'm so confused!
False perceptions
That brought forth these questions of
Truth, love and hope
Now that you're injuring
I carry you with me just
Please hold on
Later that night, after I'd composed a brief letter to Sirius, I carried the letter up to the Owlery to give to Hedwig. I spent a few minutes just stroking my snowy-white owl, comforted by her large, understanding eyes, before finally handing over the envelope. "To Snuffles," I told her, and she soared gracefully out of the nearest window. I stood staring out into the cold night for a long time, then turned—and came face-to-face with gray eyes—
"Potter," Malfoy sneered. I glared back at him, but my heart pounded painfully against my chest (AN: Did I use that line in a previous fic? Sounds familiar…) and my pants were quickly beginning to feel too tight. We were standing so close…I could see into the depths of those beautiful gray eyes, thought I saw, for a moment, confusion in those perfect orbs…
I closed the distance between us, pressed my lips to his; after a moment that seemed so insubstantial, I felt his silken tongue press against my lips, and I gladly opened my mouth, permitting his tongue access. We each explored the other's mouth, tongues flickering everywhere, until he pulled away with a sudden gasp. Wordlessly, he turned away from me and left.
I stared after him, gaping like an idiot. What...? I sat down heavily, forgetting in my confusion that I was in the Owlery and that sitting down in such a place would most likely end up with me covered in shit, and tried to sort out my thoughts.
I kissed him.
I kissed him.
I kissed him.
I kissed him
I KISSED HIM!
I KISSED HIM!
Oh, shit…
How stupid could one boy be? Whatever the answer to that question was, I surpassed it.
Stupid, stupid, stupid—
Had there been a wall near, I would have banged my head against it—repeatedly. As it was, I had to settle for a number of colorful curses that made the owls hoot indignantly before I rose and made my way slowly back to my room.
(AN: And now, Draco's POV, 'cause we can't leave him out of this, can we? One is only half of a pair, and two halves make a whole…ungh, math…hate math…)
Disappear and dissolve
A weakening wall
Will one day fall
It's wise to sever our loss
I redefine pulse
Through the iris
I paced my room restlessly glad I had the prefect's dorm to myself. If anyone saw me like this…
What the fuck was that all about?
Didn't know; didn't want to know. Just wanted to forget it had ever happened.
Not bloody likely.
Stupid fucking Potter.
He'd kissed me!
Why?
Because he's a bloody pervert?
But then what did that make me? Was I just as perverted because I'd liked the feel of his lips on mine, loved the taste of his tongue in my mouth, the taste of his own mouth…
No! Hell no! I can't think about things like that! I'm—I'm—
I'm gayer than a poodle in a mini-skirt.
(AN: Fine, I admit it! I didn't make that line up! It's from moonworshipper's "Cosmopolitan: How Draco Seduced Harry". I'm sorry, it was just so perfect…please don't sue me!)
All right. Fine. I'm gay. But…Potter? Fucking Harry Potter? Why did it have to be him?
This just proves what I've known for a long time.
Life is shit.
I need to think…
I grabbed my cloak from the peg it hung on, and threw the green wool over my shoulders, then set off for the nearest exit.
(AN: Back to Harry's POV)
Finally finding a wall, I banged my head against it until Ron grabbed my shoulders and gently steered me into a nice, soft chair, with no sharp or hard objects in reach.
"What's up, mate?" he asked, sitting in a chair next to me. "You're starting to act like Dobby."
Hermoine glared at him. "I hardly think that's funny, Ron."
The red-head shrugged. "You weren't supposed to. It's just the truth."
Hermoine pointedly ignored him, and turned to face me. "Has something happened, Harry?"
"No," I said flatly, my tone quite clearly stating the contrary.
"Harry…"
"I'm just tired, okay?" I snarled, leaping to my feet and grabbing my cloak up.
As I started towards the portrait hole, I heard Ron say softly to Hermoine, "If he's tired, why's he going out…?"
Outside, the cool air calmed me considerably. For a long moment, I stood in the doorway, letting the winter wind buffet me; then I stepped out into the snow, and promptly sunk up to mid-thigh.
Muttering a few more curses just to relieve tension, I dragged one leg forward, then the next, making my way slowly towards the lake. Once there, I simply stood, letting wind and snow swirl around me, tugging at my hair and clothes; eyes closed, I tilted my head up, opened my mouth to let a few snowflakes drop in.
Love's not all lost
But it's nailed to my cross
And crucified all that I've held on
To be awaiting
Anticipating a touch such as yours
"POTTER!"
I half-turned, but that was as far as I got. Something slammed into my side, sending me sprawling face-first into the snow. Gasping from cold and lack of air, I lifted my head and tried to look over my shoulder at my assailant, who was at the moment straddling me with a menacing expression. I tried to scramble up, but my mittened fingers found no purchase in the snow, and a blow to the side of my head sent me sprawling again.
"What did you mean by it, Potter?" Draco Malfoy roared. "What the fuck did you mean by it!"
I stammered, "Wha—what're you—"
"You fucking kissed me!"
"Yes…"
"Why?"
"Let me up, Malofy!"
"Like hell! Tell me why you did it!"
"Because I did!"
"WHY!"
What not? "Because I want you."
"You…what?"
"You heard me, Malfoy."
"No, I don't think I did." His voice had taken on a dangerous tone. "What did you say." It wasn't a question, it was a demand.
False affection
A spawn of neglecting
A love, lust, hoax
Please understand me
That now where you're standing
Is closer then I'd hoped
"I want you, all right? Now will you let me up?"
"You…why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you…what you said…"
I growled, still trying to get up. "Get off me!"
He scrambled away suddenly, as if afraid I'd give him cooties. I dragged myself to my feet, gingerly touching a hand to the spot where he'd hit me, then stood glaring at him, waiting. He seemed just as determined not to speak first.
Finally, with an exasperated sigh, I threw my arms in the air and turned away from him.
"Wait—!"
I stopped, but didn't turn around. "What?"
"You—what about…?"
"What about it?"
"You are such a prick!" He screamed suddenly. I managed to turn around, so that when he threw himself at me again I fell into the snow on my back. I rolled over, pinning him beneath me; grabbed his shoulders and shook fiercely, then rose and started away. Something wrapped around my ankle, and I fell back into the snow. I floundered for a moment, then hands rolled me ungently onto my back, and Draco Malfoy glared down at me with all the venom in the world.
"I hate you," he snarled.
"Good."
"I do. I hate you more than anything." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me.
"Good," I repeated. "Then let me go."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You…don't care that I hate you?"
"Not really."
"Then…why…?"
Why did I tell you I wanted you? I finished silently. You know, I have no fucking idea why I told you. "Let me up, Malfoy," I said tiredly.
Still looking suspicious, he rose to his feet and took a few steps away. I got up and started walking back towards the castle.
"Potter…"
I sighed again, very, very annoyed. "What, Malfoy?"
"Fuck you."
"Jerk off."
(AN: Ha! Fooled ya, didn't I! Well, don't worry, this IS still the "normal" type of fic I write…the "action" is coming…soon… MWA! Just for kicks, let's make it Draco's POV again. Let's also say it's the next day. Or even a few days later. You choose.)
"But Professor—"
"That is enough, Mister Malfoy," Snape said coldly. "I have partnered you with Potter, and if you argue any more, I will deduct points from Slytherin."
I swore at him under my breath, and glared over at Potter. He returned the glare, and neither of us budged.
Nearly a half-hour had passed before Snape barked out, "POTTER! Go join Mister Malfoy! Now!"
I gave the Golden Boy a smug look as he dragged his things over to my table. "Go get the ingredients," I ordered.
"No fucking way."
"Tsk, tsk, Potter, swearing in school. Be careful, or some Prefect might deduct points."
Again, we sat there, neither willing to "lose" by going to get the ingredients necessary to make the potion.
"POTTER! MALFOY! What are you doing!"
"Nothing, sir," I said quickly, then realized it was the wrong answer.
"Then start doing something!" Snape roared. He was angrier than I'd seen him in a very long time. Then, suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and a chilling malicious grin stretched across his face. "On second thought…Malfoy, Potter, I assign the making of this potion as homework, to be completed tonight. There will be a sample of said potion on my desk tomorrow. Do you both understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Potter and I said together, then glared at each other when Snape had left.
"After supper," I growled, "my room."
"Fine."
We spent the rest of the class sitting in smoldering silence.
(AN: I'm sure we can all see where this is leading, but, hey, sometimes clichés are good! Let's skip back to Harry's POV. It's nighttime again. Nuff said.)
Muttering curses, I gathered all my Potions things and started towards the portrait hole. I ignored Ron and Hermoine's sympathetic looks, and tried to ignore the thundering of my heart. Alone, with Draco Malfoy, in his room…
I knocked on the door of said Slytherin's room, and waited. "That you, Potter?"
"What do you think, Malfoy?"
"The door's open."
Inside, Malfoy lounged on his big bed. My eyes widened slightly at the sight, and then I quickly looked away. I set my bag down on his desk, managed to growl, "Let's just get this over with."
Slightly more than an hour later, we had finished the potion with a minimum of words passed between us. Malfoy gathered a sample of the potion in a glass vial, and with a wave of my wand, I made the rest of the potion disappear. I was about to leave when I heard glass break, and Malfoy began screaming curses. I spun around, saw the remains of the glass vial on the floor at Malfoy's feet, the potion burning a hole through the carpet.
Gaping, I choked out, "You—you—you—you idiot! How could you—?"
"You think I did that on purpose, Potter?" he bellowed.
"Yes, I do!"
His fist connected solidly with my nose, and I stumbled backwards, slamming against the wall and clutching at my face. My eyes watered horribly, and I didn't see the second punch coming. I collapsed, gasping for breath, eyes still watering as I held on to my stomach. He reached down and grabbed my shoulders, dragged me to my feet, shoved my back against the wall again—and then kissed me, ignoring the blood that still streamed from my nose.
Disappear and dissolve
A weakening wall
Will one day fall
It's wise to sever our loss
I redefine pulse
Through the iris
I pulled away abruptly, surprising myself as much as him, and stalked towards the bathroom, where I quickly cleaned myself up after stopping the bleeding. That done, I braced my hands on either side of the sink and stared at my reflection.
He'd kissed me.
I'd kissed him back.
We'd kissed.
Shit.
Taking a deep breath, I left the bathroom. Malfoy saw me, glanced at the door, then looked back at me. For a long moment, we stood staring at each other. Then I sprinted for the door; he beat me there, blocking my exit.
"Move!" I demanded.
"No. I…want to talk. About…"
"Well I don't. Move."
"Potter, will you listen to me?"
"No."
For the second time that night, he threw himself at me; this time, I landed on the bed, with him straddling my hips. "Then I'll make you listen," he growled, and pressed his mouth to mine again.
Quite some time later, I broke away, gasping, as his hands slid up my shirt. "Malfoy—"
"Shut up, Potter." I gasped again as he began chewing on my ear. It wasn't a conscious decision, but I lifted my hips against him with a soft groan, which he echoed. I ran my hands up and down his back, over his arse Funny word… Shut up, Bob!. I didn't remember it happening, but my shirt was gone, and so was his, and our hands were running up and down each other, exploring.
Suddenly realizing what was happening, I almost laughed aloud. Then, deciding I did not want to be the submissive one, I lifted my hips and rolled him onto his back, so that I was now straddling him, and kissed him fiercely. Pants and boxers were discarded as quickly as shirts had been.
Your Iris
Your Iris
Disappear and dissolve
A weakening wall
Will one day fall
It's wise to sever our loss
I redefine pulse
Through the iris
Simultaneously, our hands wrapped around the other's masculinity, and we both let out loud groans. He released me first, grabbing at the sheets as I worked my hands up and down his length. I smiled at his pleasure, and wanted nothing more than to give him more of it. I lowered my head, wrapped my lips around the tip of his erection; he groaned loudly and thrust his hips up, forcing himself farther into my mouth. I ran my tongue in slow circles around him, loving the way he groaned and writhed beneath me.
I took my mouth away from him briefly, coated a few of my fingers in saliva, and then gently pushed those fingers into his opening. He all but screamed in pleasure; he did scream when I lowered my mouth back to him, still working my fingers in and out, preparing him. When neither of us could bear to wait anymore, I pulled myself up to lay on top of him, and then gently pressed into him.
He screamed. I didn't know if it was in pleasure or in pain, but I didn't much care. I was too busy concentrating on finding the rhythm as I pumped slowly, then more quickly, into him. He screamed and strained and begged for more, but I ignored him completely, concentrated on the pounding of blood that matched the way I pounded into him…
He came long before I did, but I was far from done with him. I made him come three more times before I finally did, and then we both collapsed, sated and exhausted. I slowly pulled myself out of him, then rolled over to lay next to him, both of us panting.
"Roll over," he said softly. I was too tired—too happy—to argue, and rolled onto my stomach. But I came fully awake—in a number of different definitions—when I felt him press against my back. "My turn," he whispered in my ear, and then he was inside me.
Now it was my turn to scream, and I did so in more pain than pleasure. He hadn't used any lubrication of any sort, and I'd never been entered before—
"So—tight—" he grunted, and I screamed again as he forced farther into me. He seemed to realize suddenly that my screaming wasn't a good thing, and he slowed down, became more gentle, allowed me to get used to the feel of him inside me. Once he was sure he wasn't going to cause me any more pain, he began thrusting into me, harder than I had into him. I screamed—in pleasure this time—and grabbed at the sheets as he rocked wildly back and forth, sliding in and out of me with a skill I never would have expected.
Three orgasms later, he slowly pulled himself out and then lay back down on the bed next to me. We lay in silence, merely reveling in our pleasure.
Disappear and dissolve
A weakening wall
Will one day fall
It's wise to sever our loss
I redefine pulse
A new iris
"Harry?" he said softly.
I didn't open my eyes and didn't move from where I lay, but smiled. "Mmm?"
"What are we going to do about the potion?"
I think that's a good place to end it. ;D That was longer than expected. I started this with the idea "sex in the snow" but that, uh…changed.
Did you like it? I'm not sure I did…I think I could have done better…
I'm tired of giving subtle hints, so: REVIEW, or I'll sic the penguins on you! And no one wants that.
:>