A/N: This is a retelling of my other story, A Malfoy Complex. It tells the same story, but from Draco's point of view. This is not a comedy, as it's predecessor, and actually doesn't end on the happiest of notes (don't worry, I am in the middle of outlining a third in this series, which will tie up the loose ends that this one leaves). Enjoy :)
A Complex Malfoy
Draco Malfoy wasn't quite sure how he had acquired such a large number of loyal female followers, or why they assumed that he was the most sex-crazed woman pleaser in all of Hogwarts. Truth be told, Draco Malfoy was a bit of a prude, and even more of a virgin. In fact, while the other boys of Hogwarts were busy running around, chasing skirts (or, more accurately, chasing vaginas), Draco was busy with his studies, enjoying a few good books, and, as always, mocking Harry Potter until there was nothing left to say that he hadn't already.
He led a relatively simple life, in his opinion, as all boys at the age of sixteen should. He had gone on a few dates, mostly out of courtesy to an impressive wizarding family, but Draco Malfoy had never allowed himself to go further than hand-holding with most girls. It wasn't until Pansy Parkinson had cornered him the night of the Yule Ball and Draco, being particularly good at reading people, had figured out that the pig-nosed creature had wanted did he even have his first kiss. It wasn't because he was religious, or because he thought he should be saving himself for god only knew what, but simply because he wasn't interested. That kiss, it turned out, had been the mistake of a lifetime.
It wasn't until his fifth year when Draco heard the rumors that had been floating around about him, due to Pansy Parkinson's ridiculously large mouth. She claimed to have shagged Draco "passionately and perfectly" that night after the Yule Ball. He had been storming through the halls, desperately trying to find someone to destroy when he overheard a mildly pleasant conversation regarding him.
"Wow, you mean he's actually that good? That's surprising, I've never seen him show an ounce of affection towards anyone, much less a woman," said Cassandra Olby, a girl in his own house a year older than him. Her friend, a Ravenclaw who he didn't know the name of smirked.
"I know, don't you find it dashing? He plays it so cold, but if a girl finds her way into his heart, he's probably very warm and sweet," said the Ravenclaw. Draco raised his eyebrow. He didn't mean to play it cold, he just really wasn't too fond of people. He was popular, sure, and he tried his best to carry on polite conversations with those he didn't know (If they were, of course, in his house or Ravenclaw. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were not worth the energy.) He had a handful of friends, a large collection of polite acquaintances that he kept himself within, and somehow that came off as cold.
It was then that Draco decided it wouldn't harm anyone in particular to let these rumors circulate. From then on, Draco became a sex legend of Hogwarts, despite the fact that he had never laid an inappropriate hand on anyone.
-
He was covered in sweat and panting. He was burning, from the inside out, only the fire was more pleasant than painful, and his entire entity felt full. He was throbbing, his erect cock begging for attention, as this foreign fire trapped him. With ever beat of his heart, he could feel the new sensation racing through him, and his breath was caught.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
And as he fought to make his eyes focus, the only features he noticed were blatant, and obvious, burning themselves into his memory; Black hair, electric green eyes, and lightening, lots of lightening. The blurred figure whispered something to him, and the sparkling electric green eyes were all he saw as the sparkles spread, and, like lightening bolts, went though him.
Draco shuddered as he came, his eyes opening with a start as his body jerked.
He looked around his room frantically, the darkness of the dungeon dorms straining his cold eyes to find a way to see. He didn't dare fumble around for his wand, lest he wake his roommates and have them see. He stretched his arms out in front of him, then let them fall to either side of him.
He was alone and confused in, now, very sticky satin sheets. Sure, this happened to every boy, and it sure as hell wasn't the first time that the teen had awoken to find that he had ruined another pair of very expensive sheets, but, this one was strange, this one was annoyingly tugging at the back of his brain like the mystery….person wasn't actually a mystery. But, as Draco laid back in darkness trying to piece together his dream, his weary and spent self drifted into an equally, alarmingly, beautifully sexual dream.
-
Multiple orgasms, it occurred to Draco, were tiring after they started reaching dizzying numbers, even if one had been enjoying a rather complete sleep prior. He was leaning against his hand at the breakfast table, the dining hall as empty as it normally was this early. Given, he hadn't known a man could possibly come more than four times in a twenty-four hour period, none the less in a single hour. Draco closed his eyes, his free hand absently stirring his bowl of cream of wheat.
"Good morning, Draco," said a high voice as he felt the warmth of someone slide next to him. He knew that voice, it was Pansy. He opened one eye, then, all of a sudden, he gaped at her, both his eyes falling open.
Somehow, somewhere between last night and now, Pansy had gotten unbelievably hot. Her curves were dangerous, and her tight uniform accented these as she sat next to Draco, sexually licking honey off her spoon as she stuck it into her porridge. Draco closed his eyes, and shook his head. When he opened them, Pansy was the same pig-nosed girl he had always known.
He pondered how strange that was as he went back to focusing on his breakfast. Unfortunately, despite the insane number of involuntary orgasms Draco's mind had subjected him to earlier that morning, he was now rock hard. And, what was worse, technically he was rock hard because of Pansy Parkinson.
Draco shuddered. This is what happened when he didn't get enough sleep, apparently.
Confused and disgusted with himself, Draco opted to go back to his room and sleep for first class.
He wound up sleeping through the rest of the day.
-
The days had gotten more and more bizarre. Every night, Draco was plagued with horribly sexual dreams, with the nastiest, kinkiest things that anyone could imagine. In his mind, he had slept with women, men, his housemates, random people he'd seen in the halls, and yes, even some of his teachers. Draco was afraid he was becoming a closeted deviant.
The effects that had happened the first morning, after his first dream about the lightening, started happening randomly, and much more frequently throughout the days; he would find himself stricken absolutely speechless by someone who he'd known and seen day after day for years' sudden immaculate beauty. It was starting to become quite a problem as his self-control was starting to waver. The blond boy had found himself becoming quite the flirt.
And Draco didn't know what was worse, the fact that he was starting to live up to his rumors, or the fact that his strange attractions weren't just limited to women. He caught himself, day after day, absently flirting with everyone he had a chance to catch in one of his moods.
He chalked it up to puberty, which made almost no sense since he was most definitely post-pubescent.
This strange attraction to all things that breathed was becoming a bit of a problem, it occurred to Draco one evening when he found himself actually ogling Professor Snape as he sat quietly at his dinner table. He had been relentless in his flirting, and it was starting to scare him.
He wanted to shag Pansy Parkinson against the dungeon walls.
He wanted to bend Hermione Granger over a library table.
He wanted to straddle Ronald Weasley like a broomstick.
He wanted to lick Professor Snape from base to head.
He needed help.
He let his head fall to the table next to his plate with an audible thud. No one at the Slytherin table noticed really. He was contemplating sleeping here and seeing if his unexplainable attraction was limited to humans when he felt a sharp peck on the top of his head. He looked up to find his family owl standing in what used to be his dinner, a letter tied to his leg. Draco rubbed his eyes, grabbing the letter from the owl. The majestic bird hooted in anger as Draco swatted it away, opening the letter. He raised his brow, it was from his mother.
Dearest Draco,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are doing your best to keep up the family's name. Your father has informed me that you have the second highest marks in school, save for that bushy haired mudblood that Potter hangs around with, and I feel it is my matronly duty to tell you that it is unacceptable for you to lose to a mudblood. However, I also know that you are smart enough to figure this out on your own.
Draco rolled his eyes and then continued reading.
But, your marks are not the reason that I owled you. As I am sure you are aware, you are probably going through some rather strange changes at your age, and no, I am not going to give you the 'dragons-and-the-unicorns' speech again, I feel we covered that thoroughly when you were thirteen.
Draco shuddered at the awkward memories and lewd drawings enchanted to animate their meaning.
I believe it is time for you to learn a small secret of the Malfoy family. Your father didn't want me to tell you this, as it is embarrassing, but I feel you must know. While we are still proud purebloods, the Malfoy line has not always been entirely human. While this isn't uncommon for most magical families, sometimes it raises certain side-effects in later generations, and I'm afraid it might be affecting you. Your paternal great-great-great-great-grandmother was a veela, and I have reason to suspect that you have inherited a small amount of some of her abilities. I noticed it first when you came home, and while you have always been breathtaking, you almost has a glow about you. When your father was your age, his eyes had shifted to complete gray, and his hair was starting to yellow with time, as is the normal human transgression of these traits. However, your hair is turning more silver as you get older, and your eyes still hold some of the primal magic that should have been lost at puberty. This can only mean one thing, that you have, in fact, inherited some long lost veela powers. I'm afraid there is little I can do to help you make this easier, but I figured that I should warn you about it before you became so promiscuous that I would have to convince your father to have an illegitimate child destroyed on pain of death. You are very smart, Draco, and I know you will learn how to deal with your disability without shaming our family's name.
All of my love,
Mother.
Draco re-read the letter over and over until dinner ended. When everyone else had left the great hall, he charmed the letter on fire and directed the ashes to fall in his discarded pumpkin juice. Surprisingly, he wasn't too ashamed or embarrassed.
On the contrary, he was relieved. Neither was he losing his mind, nor some crazed sexual deviant. Without another look, he picked himself up and quickly made his way to the library. Just because he wasn't worried didn't mean he couldn't educate himself on the matter.
-
The educating was becoming harder and harder as time went on. In the vast library of Hogwarts, he could find books on how to control yourself if you were full veela and half veela, but no smaller demographic of that. On the same note, nothing he read seemed to apply to him save the obvious breathtaking beauty. He couldn't control people's lust, he couldn't attract everyone within a two mile radius of him, and he couldn't turn into a sharp toothed feathery monster when it struck his fancy. Apparently, all the useful traits had skipped over him.
As he picked up the last book, Magical Mating and Why You Should Probably Avoid It, and skimmed through the sections on veela, he was starting to think that perhaps this oh so convenient answer for his sudden surge of libido wasn't an answer at all, he stumbled upon something.
"While this side effect is rare, as this power is rare in the Veela world," he read out loud, "Sometimes, instead of the Veela being able to project it's outer beauty at anyone it pleases, the opposite happens. This condition, known as Reverse Veelation, causes the Veela to have other's outer (and inner) beauty amplified, making them seem unbelievably attractive to the veela. While this does make things difficult in finding a permanent mate, the Veela will often only dream of its true mate despite the enhanced attraction to others." Draco sighed. Not only was he part Veela, he was part defective Veela.
He slammed the book closed and stood, sweeping his things to him instantly and glided out of the library. He checked his watch, which was one tick away from "lunch" and sighed. He altered his path from his rooms to go to the great hall. He was less accepting than he had been an hour ago when he had thought it would be simple to get his hands on information on how he could control himself.
He rounded a corner, and smacked into something hard and strong with enough force that he stumbled backwards and landed flat on his bum. Great, now he was angry and his arse hurt. He looked up, keen at the idea of destroying someone. His silvery gaze met electric green once, and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. He allowed his vision to move wider, and was greeted by two people who he didn't want to see with his new…condition.
Harry Potter had never looked hotter than he currently did. The boy was wearing a teal shirt, one that made his green eyes sparkle and shine behind his glasses. His normally disgusting hair was tousled sexily, giving him an air of having just been shagged thoroughly, and his sculpted muscles were tastily visible through the thin, worn cotton of his shirt. Draco narrowed his eyes, he didn't remember Potter being this bloody fit. He was faintly aware that someone was accompanying Potter, and he let his eyes wander.
Luna Lovegood looked more beautiful than she normally did, but it didn't hold a candle to Harry, who seemed to be glowing. Draco blinked. Actually, Potter was glowing. The raven haired boy's entire being was bright and shining, electric, and compared to him, the rest of Draco's vision seemed blurred. Draco let his eyes dart between the two, then shook his head, stood and dusted himself off. Veela sight was starting to give him a headache. He smirked to himself. Snarking with Potter was the best way to relieve Draco of his aforementioned headache.
"Well, Potter, taking your girlfriend for a quick shag?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down Potter.
"Mal-" Harry started, but Luna interrupted him.
"He's not my boyfriend!" Luna squeaked. Draco let his eyes wander to the blonde girl. Of course he wasn't her boyfriend. Sure, currently Draco admitted that Luna was attractive, but she was rusted and cracked compared to the polished gold Adonis that was next to her. Draco felt more heat rise to him as he caught glimpses of Potter, and felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach. Crap.
Now was not the time to get a boner so hard he could beat a hippogriff to death with it. Draco needed to end this, and he needed to end this fast.
"Really, than you have better taste than I thought, Lovegood," curse his inability to lose to Potter! He squirmed a bit, wishing that he could somehow get away from the warm, sexual, beautiful glow that was Harry Potter. Potter rose from the ground, and Draco became very aware of how tall the dark haired boy really was. Draco attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, but Harry pushed his hair away from his eyes. The emerald orbs were smoldering at him, and Harry smiled a dark, seductive smile towards the blond.
"Actually, Luna has perfect taste, Malfoy," Harry moved so that he was next to the petrified Draco. The blond boy's blood was boiling, and he feared that he would explode when Harry's heat spread to him. "And since I can't live up, you know you haven't got a damned chance."
Draco's mind went blank as the pair walked away, leaving him mildly stunned and seeing nothing but lightening.
-
When Draco finally made it to lunch, he sat at the Slytherin table and stared at his plate. Everything was still dimmed, and the sounds were muffled. He could hear Harry's conversation with Ron and Hermione, could feel the heat from across the Great Hall. This was a problem, and he needed to figure out what was going on with this Reverse Veelation before something awful happened. His quidditch captain tapped him on the shoulder, and Draco could barely make out that he was being told he had a game tomorrow.
Draco sighed, he hadn't practiced in forever. When he got up from the table, he made his way out of the great hall and down to the dungeons. He grabbed his broom and quidditch robes, stalking up to the pitch. His vision and temperature had returned to normal as soon as Harry was out of the vicinity. He sighed, apparently he was only affected when Harry was near-.
He stopped in his tracks. The room went dark, and Draco could feel the warmth behind him. He turned and looked over his shoulder. Even though the room was dark and muffled, he couldn't see anyone following him. He shrugged it off, and walked to the pitch, drastically needing to be alone.
He felt like Harry was following him, and the heat was messing with his mind, and currently, his cock. Draco unbuttoned his shirt, his hands trembling a little. Even though he was alone, he felt like he was being watched, and while that feeling scared him, it also made the heat cover his body and his skin tingle. He leaned against the wall, and his eyes fell shut as the cool brick met his overheated self. Draco took a look around the dressing room, feeling as if he was being watched by hungry eyes, and when he realized he was alone, he charmed and locked the door. He wasn't proud that he had to do this before practicing, but if he didn't he wouldn't be able to concentrate on flying and most likely kill himself.
Draco slid his pants off, and felt the heat of the room hit him. Draco pulled his erection from his green boxers, and moaned again as the heat hit him. His vision changed, sharpened, as he raised his left hand to his mouth and licked it. His hand trembled as he ran his hand over his cock.
He was slowly moving, and he realized that something was different. He felt waves of power flow off of him, and his vision sharpened more, until he could see the heat rising off of everything in the room, different colors of heat flooding his vision as he teased himself.
Draco felt a whimper escape his lips as his body tingled, bringing his right hand to his mouth as he bit down on it. Between the heat and the colors, he was slowly loosing his mind. He thought for a moment that no one should enjoy wanking this much, but he wasn't about to stop until the tension that was forming in his stomach disappeared. He whimpered and moaned to himself, the visions of all the people he had been stricken by floated through his mind, but one was standing out, brighter than the rest. Suddenly, his heightened senses heard a thump.
Draco opened his eyes, and his vision was so sharp, he was sure it resembled an owl's. He felt his eyes lock onto a part of the room, a part that was emitting the same, blinding heat that Harry had. His heart was beating so hard, he felt himself get even more riled up at the thought of Harry seeing this.
Harry watching him.
He couldn't stop staring at the heat, its bright waves bending, shaping into a form he was beginning to know all too well. He bit his lip, and felt himself reach his peek. His back slid down the lockers, his hips thrusting into his own hand. Draco felt a cry come from his lips, his mind swirling around his dreams.
In a flash, all of his dream memories turned from a faceless man into a face he knew all to well. He came hard, the hot liquid searing Draco's flesh. Before he even thought about it, Draco raised his hand to his mouth, and licked it clean. He blushed at the thought, but he was alone, who would know he liked the taste of his own cum?
He sighed, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. As he fastened his quidditch robes, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His eyes were dark silver, cloudy, and he could distinctly see a swirl of flashes and sparkles deep in his pupils. This veela stuff was doing wonders for his appearance. He grabbed his wand and removed the charms from the changing room as he left, the pitch distinctly grayer as the heat that was covering and following him finally disappeared.
--
A few weeks had passed since Draco's glowing-masturbatory incident. He had regained most of his normal self control, but he decided being a shameful flirt was fun enough to continue doing as long as it didn't interfere with his studies. It seemed that Harry Potter was avoiding him more avidly than usual. Draco would complain about his lack of entertainment, but Potter's presence hadn't changed; every time he was around, he glowed, and Draco could barely focus on anything other than the aching heat Potter emitted.
Potions was becoming more and more difficult (but, at the head of the class, more difficult was still easy) because Snape enjoyed pairing Draco with Harry just to make both of the boys lives hell. He was staring off into space and barely caught Harry about to add the wrong ingredient that would melt the entire room into on gelatinous blob of former-wizards.
"Damnit, Potter!" Draco snapped, snatching the vile from Harry's hand. Draco felt a surge of heat and electricity run through him as his fingers brushed Harrys, and looked up at Harry, his brow quirked. "Are all Gryffindors mentally retarded, or is it just you, Potter?"
Draco watched intently as Harry stammered out a vague apology, a blush across the black haired boys cheek. Draco frowned, half the fun of torturing Potter was the reactions, and passive-aggressive Harry Potter wasn't any way to get dominant, angry words Draco could wank to later. Angrily, Draco swiftly smacked the knife Harry was using to chop Mandrake root from his hands, the black haired boy stumbling away from Draco's touch as if it burned him.
Taken aback by the rejection Harry probably didn't know he'd given, Draco barely noticed that Crabbe and Goyle's potion was leaking all over the floor until he heard Snape's bark.
"Potter, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Snape flew to where Potter was righting himself, the potion that covered his shirt and robes causing them to cling to his well toned muscles. Draco was at a loss for words, and couldn't bring his eyes to look at anything other than Harry's muscles.
He was later informed that he had a detention with Harry in Snape's office that evening.
Draco didn't know whether to be excited or terrified.
--
It might seem stupid to dress in one's sexiest clothes to attend a Potions detention, but Draco couldn't help it. He had caught Harry avoiding him and blushing at mere physical contact, and he would be damned if he let the opportunity to torment (and flirt with) the current object of his obsession ((A/N: Current, Draco? lol)) pass him by.
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feeling that he was forgetting some important piece of information that he should take into account before going tonight, but thoughts of Harry Potter were swimming through Draco's mind.
Said thoughts had made Draco rock hard again, and he flipped his wrist to look at his watch.
He was two ticks past "Detention," he most definitely didn't have time to wank before detention. He groaned.
He'd have to deal with his horniness throughout the two hours he and Harry would be trapped together.
--
The first forty-five minutes were spent in silence, bottling the viscous, disgusting liquid Professor Snape had told them to. Draco was getting more and more irritated by the minute. The blond had actually gone out of his way to look even more smashing than he did on a regular basis, and Harry wouldn't even look at him.
Normally, Harry would call him names or keep from glaring at him or something. Anything. The blinding light emitting from Harry was wrapping itself around Draco, and all Draco wanted was an excuse for the magnificent creature behind him to pay attention to him.
"Damn it, Potter, what is wrong with you?" asked Draco, baiting the other boy again as he had tried multiple times in the past hour. Draco leaned against the work table, ignoring the task Snape had left for them. Draco leaned, his hips sticking towards Harry as his arms folded over his chest.
Harry finally looked up, peering over the rim of his glasses to look at him. It was all Draco could do to stifle the sigh that worked itself into his lungs from the vibrant green of Harry's eyes. As if Harry could read his illicit thoughts, the raven-haired boy turned scarlet.
"Nothing," Harry muttered, looking down from Draco back to the potion. Draco needed to see his eyes again, and he wasn't above annoying the bespectacled boy to get it.
"You're lying, and you're bloody bad at it," Draco said, pushing himself away from the desk and moving to brace his arms on the opposite end of the table Harry was at. Harry peered over his glasses again in a small glance Draco guessed he wasn't supposed to catch. Harry was staring at him, and Draco loved it.
But, the predatory gaze that Draco was receiving, aside from making heat run through him, also made his stomach drop and his heart flutter. Draco arched a brow, more confused at himself.
"Potter…?" Harry's eyes had landed on his, and the glittering emeralds wouldn't let Draco's gaze go. His heart was thumping in his ears that he barely caught Harry's next words.
"I hate when you call me that," Harry purred. Draco smirked, leaning over the table.
"So sorry, Harry," Draco slurred, his mind playing through a fiery kiss.
It took Draco a moment to realize it wasn't a hallucination. Draco moaned as Harry's lips moved over his, and leaned into Harry, knocking the potion across the table. Draco's entire body was on fire, tiny little sparks that exploded into a huge blaze as Harry's tongue caressed his. Electric zaps and explosions filling Draco's vision and mind. It felt amazing, it felt wonderful, it felt right.
Harry pulled back, staring at Draco's face. Draco was flushed, his eyes half open, wishing the kiss hadn't ended. Harry smiled at him, a soft smile that a man gives his lover.
"Why aren't you trying to hex me into the next millennium?" Harry purred. Draco cleared his throat, his mind racing as he moved around the table, standing next to Harry, and ran a hand nervously through his silver blonde hair.
"If I said that it's a natural reaction to kiss back when kissed, would you believe me?" asked Draco, glancing sideways at Harry. Harry smiled, the warmth of it radiating to his eyes, which were vibrant, glittering, and alive.
"Nope, and you call me a bloody bad liar," Harry said with a smile. The warmth and beauty of his smile was calming Draco's nerves, and the blonde smiled sheepishly and sat on the table behind Harry, laughing quietly, trying to calm the trembling that was running through him.
Draco didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected this at all, he expected snarking and fighting and rough words that would hurt more than intended. He didn't expect tenderness and kindness and genuine attraction, and it confused him. Harry turned around and stared at Draco, the predatory gaze back in his green eyes.
The glowing heat was strong and it filled Draco's entire body, he felt his arousal growing as he looked back at Harry.
When Harry pushed his lips roughly against Draco's, the blond could barely breathe enough to stay alive he was so enthralled. Draco melted against Harry as the green eyed boy grabbed his hips, pulling Draco against him, grinding his erection into Draco's. Draco couldn't stifle the gasp of pleasure as Harry's erection brushed against his, and Harry pushed his skilled tongue into Draco's mouth.
Draco gasped for air when Harry moved his mouth to Draco's neck. Shivers were going down Draco's spine as Harry's skilled mouth was biting and sucking and nipping Draco's skin, involuntary sounds coming from Draco's lips.
Suddenly, Draco realized, things were going a lot faster than he ever dreamed.
"D-damn it, Harry," moaned Draco, though it was supposed to be a protest. He couldn't think like this, so he reached up and grabbed Harry's surprisingly soft black hair, pulling Harry away from his neck. Draco's mind cleared a little, but not enough to think logically.
Harry's electric eyes stared at him, dominating, sensual eyes that captured Draco's mind and body.
"Don't become a saint on me now, Mr. Sex-God-Of-Slytherin," Harry growled, grabbing Draco's hips roughly, and pushing Draco more onto the table.
"Oi! That's Sex-God-Of-Hogwarts, you git," Draco mewled, "and don't you bloody forge-BLOODY HELL, POTTER!" Draco shrieked as Harry's deliciously calloused hands slid against the soft skin of Draco's chest under his shirt. Harry's teeth were gently nibbling at Draco's ear as his calloused hands undid Draco's shirt. Draco caught himself grinding into Harry's erection, his hips swirling against him. Draco's mind was a haze.
Harry was touching him. HARRY was touching HIM.
Draco leaned back onto his hands, Harry's soft hot mouth kissing his way down Draco's stomach, making thought almost impossible. This wasn't like him. Draco Malfoy never sat by and let people do whatever they wanted to him, and, more importantly, Draco Malfoy didn't have sex in the Potions Dungeon during detention. (Not that Draco Malfoy had sex at all).
But, as Harry undid the button to his trousers and slowly slid down the zipper , Draco was reconsidering the shagging in dungeons policy. He lifted his hips off the table so Harry could pull his trousers away, Harry's strong, tanned hands slid over his thighs. Harry smirked at Draco's thighs, and the blond boy stiffened a little.
"Merlin, Malfoy, do you shave your legs?" Draco snapped his head up, his vision clearing a bit at the insult.
"I'll have you know that I'm not a poofter, Potter!" Draco said, his voice cracking uncharacteristically as he said Harry's name. Harry arched a dark brow at him, and Draco's mind went fuzzy again, but Draco was determined not to be made a fool of while he lost his virginity.
"Really, now?" said Harry. Draco flushed, his vision falling to where Harry's tanned, rough hand was going inside of Draco's green and silver plaid boxers. Draco held his breath as Harry fondled his cock, fighting to keep his head from exploding.
"Yes, you wanker, I love wome-GOODGOD!" Draco shrieked as Harry slowly ran his tongue from the base of Draco's cock all the way to the head. Draco's eyes widened, staring down at Harry, who was doing an amazing job at making all thoughts turn to mush. He watched Harry, his eyes gazing into the electric green fields that he had seen only in his dreams.
"What was that about not being a poof?" Harry purred, his eyes smoldering as he ran his hand up Draco's body, his finger rubbing Draco's lips. Harry pushed his mouth down onto Draco's cock again, and Draco darted his tongue out, capturing two of Harry's finger. He sucked them into his mouth, closing his eyes, pretending it was Harry's cock. Apparently, Harry was having the same fantasy as he moaned around Draco's cock. Draco shivered, letting Harry slide his fingers away from Draco's lips.
"I-if you're not careful, I'm gonna cum…" Draco said in a small voice. He felt Harry smirk around his cock and suck once more, hard, on it before crawling up Draco's body. Harry pulled out his wand an vanished Draco's boxers, and nudged Draco's legs apart, a calloused finger finding Draco's entrance. He gently pushed a finger into Draco, and Draco felt a small bud of the filling heat that had been in his dream. Draco drew in a breath, the strange sensation sending shivers down his spine. He buried his face into the crook of Harry's neck, inhaling the scent of Harry as he shook.
"See, now," Harry crooned, "this whole 'I'm straight' argument of yours has almost no value," Harry pushed a second finger inside of Draco, scissoring his fingers, stretching Draco. The blond shivered, the pleasure budding into small pain.
"Just cause I'm straight," Draco lied, "doesn't mean that I don't currently want you to fuck me into oblivion!" Harry leaned back, and fidgeted with his pants, his fingers still inside of Draco. Draco glanced down, and bit his lip, fear rushed through him. Harry muttered a lubrication spell, his large cock dripping with slick fluid, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. Harry pulled his fingers out, and whatever qualms Draco had about losing his virginity on a potions table were replaced by the lack of heat that he needed.
"Actually," Harry said, pushing the tip of his cock into Draco. The blond shuddered, the pain spiking, but the heat returning tenfold. "That's exactly what it-"
"DAMNIT POTTER, FUCK ME NOW AND SNARK LATER!" Draco screamed, Grabbing the back of Harry's hair and pushing his lips against Harry's. Harry moaned and thrust himself wholly into Draco. If it weren't for Harry's lips, Draco would have screamed, but it only came out a low sound, a mixture of the intense pain and intense pleasure he felt. Draco decided that instead of crying, he would focus on Harry's lips, his tongue roughly kissing Harry's soft, plump lips. Harry kissed him back, not moving, and with that kiss, something happened.
The pain stopped, and Draco's entire body was wrapped in hot, sparkling pleasure.
"Oh god, Harry, start moving or I am going to hex you into the next millennium!" Draco whimpered. Harry growled low, and began slamming into Draco. Draco's mind was swimming, all that he could feel or think was Harry. Harry's rough hands on his skin, Harry's hard cock inside of him, hitting him in just the right spot. His body was so hot he thought he would spontaneously combust into a million tiny, smoldering stars.
Harry grabbed Draco's leg and hoisted it above his shoulder, making Draco scream louder as Harry hit him even deeper than he had been. Draco's arms clung around Harry's neck, as if letting go meant he would fall into oblivion. Their eyes locked, Harry's dark, sultry green eyes emitting the glowing heat that was swirling around Draco's every fiber.
Harry pounded into Draco faster and deeper, one calloused hand falling to the blond boy's cock, rubbing up and down it's length. Draco's entire body erupted into a sea of shivers, Draco's eyes fluttering shut as moan after moan erupted from him.
Harry pulled almost all the way out and hit just the right spot, and Draco let out a loud, feral sound he didn't know he could make as the tight knot that had been forming in his stomach released, his hot cum splashing between them. Every bone in Draco's body melted away, turning him into a soft, pliable puddle whose only structure was the cock still slamming into him. With one final thrust, deeper than all the rest, Harry came, the hot, molten liquid filling Draco with the warming glow from his center to the top of his head and the tips of his toes.
It took Draco a moment to come back to earth. He wasn't completely grounded until he felt Harry nuzzle into the sensitive skin of his neck, his hot breath running across the tender, small hairs on the back of it. Suddenly, Draco's mind became locked on a word and knowledge that he should have remembered earlier, but was too wrapped in Harry's heat to notice.
Mate.
He felt his eyes widen in shock as he realized, fearfully and emotionally, that Harry James Potter was his mate, his one, the only man who would ever make Draco's heart skip a beat. Tears started rolling from Draco's beautiful grey eyes as Harry pulled back, the sated, spent expression on the green eyed boy fading as Draco's pale face gave off his thoughts.
To Harry this was probably just a late night fuck in the dungeons, but to Draco, because of his veela blood, this would be the night his heart yearned for.
"Are you…crying?" asked Harry, as he pulled himself out of Draco. Draco shuddered as Harry pulled out, sliding Draco's leg down from his shoulder, the warmth and comfort of the previous act gone, leaving him only in pain and fear.
Fear of rejection.
Fear of Harry.
Fear of being magically bonded to his arch enemy without the other boy so much as knowing.
Draco bit his lip as that word swirled through his mind. Enemy. One doesn't show the enemy weakness. Draco pulled away, though the very act left him feeling hollow and alone.
"Hey, hey…c'mon," said Harry, strong hands cupping Draco's face.
Harry leaned in and kissed Draco, and Draco relaxed, a small amount of the fear melting away. Maybe to Harry this wasn't just a one night shag, maybe Harry actually cared about him. Maybe Harry wouldn't mind being permanently bonded to the Draco, maybe Harry could love him. He felt their kiss end, but their lips stayed together, Harry leaning his scarred forehead against Draco's, rough fingers wiping the tears from Draco's face.
"C'mon, Draco, isn't this where you're supposed to be snarking or rambling about your sexuality?" Draco's heart stopped.
To Harry Potter, their coupling was a joke. He felt pain and rage boil through his body as he tensed, Harry's sideways grin mocking everything he had just given the Gryffindor.
Harry Potter may not know it, but he had just received the precious gift of Draco Malfoy's heart, and just as ignorantly, he had broken it.
"Fuck you, Potter! Get away from me!" Draco said, shoving Harry away as roughly as he could. Harry blinked confusedly up at the boy, his eyes reflecting the sheer confusion at the sight.
Who could blame him for being confused?
Draco was trembling a little, his hair mussed, and his face scarlet. Draco Malfoy summoned all the purity and family pride he could as he hopped off the table, grabbing his trousers and shimmying into them as fast as he could. He heard Potter's zipper go up as he started buttoning his shirt, but didn't dare to look at Harry lest he lose what little resolve was keeping the tears at bay.
"Draco," Harry said, his voice chipping away at Draco's strength, "I-"
"Shut up, just…..shut up!" Draco shouted, his voice cracking. He heard Harry laugh behind him, and his entire reservoir of strength left. He peered over his shoulder, and Harry was happily mopping up the spilled potion. Draco calmly strolled from the room, stringing together curses as he did.
Once outside of the potions room, Draco sprinted to his dorms.
Not only was he in pain, both physically and emotionally, he felt he was going to be sick.