Thank you my lovely, lovely, lovely reviewers! I love you very muchly :D I also like you story alerters, but let me know what you think if you can. I don't bite. Much ;)
Onwards with the story!
Disclaimer: Don't own. Belongs to J.K and quite rightfully so.
To say Harry was thankful for the beginning of school was an understatement; after spending the week indoors in case he ran into either Draco, or any of the Weasley's he was going a little stir crazy. The Ministry was safe, at least there any arguments he ended up in, with either Ron or Draco, or even the both of them, would have to be controlled and in sharp whispers instead of raised voices. As of yet, Ron was unaware of what had happened between Harry and Draco; he didn't even know they were attempting to be friends and Harry was dreading telling him, something he would have to do inevitably, especially when Draco started hanging out with the three of them. As terrifying as the situation was to him, with the ominous idea that Ron and Hermione would desert him in disgust, Harry amused himself by thinking up Ron's various reactions, which usually involved him getting gradually higher pitched and red in the face.
It was during one of his first lessons -Potions with Professor Slughorn - that he imagined all the worst, and best, case scenarios that could occur when he finally told Hermione and Ron the truth. So caught up in his head, he failed to notice that Draco had conveniently wormed his way over to Harry's side of the room, just as Professor Slughorn was giving out partners for the year. Having spent half an hour listening to a lecture on the proper brewing of Veritaserum with an absent mind, his brain failed to comprehend what working with Draco would mean. So when Slughorn finally made his way over to the two of them and partnered Draco and Harry together, Harry's feeble protest went unheard, and Slughorn merely began to sweep the room, eyeing the students as they began their potions. After passing Ron and hearing him say
'Sorry mate, good luck with the ferret.' Harry sighed and set his jaw, turning to glare stonily at Draco, who was trying hard to look innocent and hide the smug smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
'So, I'll just reassure you Potter, that the partner work was completely coincidental. Don't get it into your head that I want to work with you or anything.' Having given up the pretence of innocence, Draco was now giving Harry a cocky grin, moving steadily closer to his partner. 'Although, if you think about it, partner-work might not be so bad; hours of time spent working in each others company, in close contact, intimate spaces. Who knows, maybe I could be the perfect stress reliever.' Draco brushed Harry's tense arm with delicate fingertips, 'I'm sure it would be even more fun if some Firewhiskey was involved.' He teased gently, stroking his hand down Harry's arm in a repetitive motion. Harry ignored the faint wave of irritation wash over him, instead choosing to swiftly move his arm from under Draco's grip, and gripping the hand, bending the fingers backwards in a quick movement. Taking advantage of the fact that Draco was briefly distracted by the pain in his hand, he whispered furiously in Draco's face,
'Listen Malfoy, I don't know what sick delusions you're desperately holding on to, but you and I are never going to be anything more than friends. No matter how drunk I get. Now, shut up, and get on with the work, we're getting looks from the class, and Hermione is already halfway through the first stage of brewing.' He released Draco's hand and began to make the potion with a look of forced concentration on his face. Draco looked at Harry with a slightly bemused expression, before shaking himself and smirking in his trademark fashion.
'Hand holding Potter? Anyone would think you were intending to seduce me, and God forbid any rumours like that were to spring up in the Daily Prophet, the Golden Boy couldn't possibly tarnish his reputation associating with me could he?' Draco snapped in a familiar drawl, flicking a wand at the cauldron and filling it with clear water. At the back of Harry's mind, he briefly recognised the return of Draco's old attitude and the renewed use of the irritating drawl he reserved only for people he didn't particularly like. He sighed, knowing that he'd already messed things up within the first five minutes they spent together, and a small voice at the back of his mind, one that wasn't horrified with the carnal actions he'd performed with Draco, told him it would be best if he tried to patch things up between the two of them. He turned back to the Slytherin, who was busy chopping up dead roots in an agitated fashion, his back hunched and his face murderous.
'Look, I'm sorry Draco. I didn't deal with this very well. I don't want to be your enemy again, and I'm happy to be your friend, I just don't want to monumentally fuck things up with a repeat of last weeks events. Can we start over?' Harry asked tentatively, feeling like he was walking on thin ice with the blonde. Draco's grey eyes flickered in Harry's direction, his posture suddenly slumped and he turned in Harry's direction.
'I suppose so.' He said in a clipped tone. 'I don't want to, as you so eloquently put it, fuck things up either. I'll wait and see if you change your mind about the other thing, but I'll stop mentioning it in front of everyone else.' Harry scowled at this, but realised that was probably the best response he was going to get from Draco, especially at this current point.
'Unless of course you do wish to continue our previous activities? I mean, this table should do…' Draco leered at Harry, dodging the cuff to his head Harry aimed at him. 'Kidding, well, slightly.' Harry sighed melodramatically, trying not to smile at the absurdity of Draco Malfoy joking with him, and continued to cut up his roots with a slight weight lifted off his chest.
O.o
'Lunch? With the ferret, are you serious Harry?' Ron blanched, staring at Harry who was standing beside Draco, trying to look casual whilst his best friend went steadily redder in the face. 'Harry you're kidding right? Tell me that's Seamus under Polyjuice Potion.' Harry just remained silent, looking at Hermione in hopes she would quieten the hysteric redhead.
'Polyjuice Potion? What have you Gryffindor's been up to?' Draco asked in amused tone, one eyebrow raised in an elegant arch. 'I apologise Weasley, I am not Finnegan in disguise, frankly no one can imitate this perfectly,' He gestured to his tightly fitting robes and sleek hair, 'and I'm not sure when you would've been able to grab some of my hair. Needless to say, I am joining you for lunch, Potter here invited me, we're attempting a truce of sorts.'
'It's about time,' Hermione muttered under her breath, blushing when Draco gave her a slight glare. She held out her hand, which Draco shook hesitantly, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his robes straight afterwards, 'Welcome Malfoy, I'm glad some of us have seen sense and decided to end this petty little rivalry.' She glowered at Ron, who was still gaping silently like a goldfish. 'We're heading to a Muggle pub, it's easier on all of us when surrounded by people who don't recognise who we are. Ron and I have a quick errand to do first, so we'll meet you there. Harry knows where we're going; we'll see you in about half an hour.' Hermione then slid her hand into Ron's and pulled him in the direction of the high street, the redhead still blushing and wearing an expression similar to trauma victims.
'Errand? Is that Gryffindor code for sex or something?' Draco asked curiously, watching Ron and Hermione turn the corner. Harry smiled at the suggestion,
'No, it isn't. Ron would probably prefer that, but they're actually off for a dress robes appointment, they're getting married at the end of they year and Hermione's organising everything. Usually Mrs Weasley would do it, but she's struggling a little with everything, so Hermione's making all the appointments.' Harry replied in earnest, skipping over the touchy subject Mrs Weasley's depression. She and George were suffering the most of all the Weasley's, neither of them quite ready to believe Fred was gone permanently. Luckily, Draco didn't say anything more, just nodded slightly and then asked,
'Don't you feel a bit left out? They're moving on with their lives, getting married etc and you're…well, newly single and having one night stands with enemies. Which I suppose for the Golden Boy is a big of a blow.' Harry was taken back at the suggestion, locking his jaw again when Draco mentioned their meeting, something he couldn't mention as nonchalantly as Draco could.
'No, not really; I'm happy for them and I'll still see them. Besides, I have you now do I not, even if they leave me alone, you and I can irritate one another for the time being, can we not?'
Draco nodded at this, 'Irritate would describe our relationship perfectly. Let's just hope we manage to put up with one another in the long term.' Draco said cheerfully, Harry chuckled,
'You make us sound like a married couple. Well, a married couple who drive each other insane.' Draco didn't reply instantly to this, instead looking directly into Harry's face, his stony grey eyes just staring right at him in a slightly unnerving manner.
'You know Harry, if we were married, I wouldn't think that was a bad thing. In fact, I'd consider myself a damn sight luckier than Granger and Weasley. I must remember not to get my hopes up. Now, come on, we've got a lunch to get to, classes start again in an hour. If we're late, I may be reduced to telling people we were having a wonderful shag at my flat and you were having so much fun I was reduced to jinxing you out of bed as an excuse.' Harry, who was slightly stunned by the marriage revelation instantly snapped out of his reverie and began walking in the direction of the high street, Draco tagging along behind him, a characteristic smirk on his face.
O.o
After their first lunch, which didn't end up being an unmitigated disaster, Harry was feeling rather cheerful about how his 8th year was planning out. Hermione and Draco managed to get on rather well, occasionally they argued but the two of them were of similar intellect, and so spent their time discussing books, lessons and revision plans during free periods and lunchtime. Ron however, was another story. Although he kept his distance from Draco and avoided any arguments with the blonde, it was clear to Harry he was unnerved by Draco's presence, and got rather uptight and surly when Harry mentioned him in their conversations. It wasn't however, as Harry found out during one of their chess matches, sitting in the corner of the 'common room' of sorts which was set aside for year eights, as he watched Ron's knight destroy one of his pawns, because of the Malfoy and Weasley rivalry, but for some completely different reason.
'Harry...?' Ron asked cautiously, as Harry surveyed the chess board and carefully planned his next move, ignoring the loud cries of advice from his own pieces and the jeers of Ron's.
'Yes Ron?' He answered, not looking up to see that Ron seemed to be rather nervous about something.
'I want to talk about the Ferret.'
'Please don't call him the Ferret Ron, as much as the nickname amuses me, we're friends now and I don't want to insult him with something as petty as that. Malfoy can sulk for an incredibly long time; it's a nightmare, to upset him.' Harry said, glancing up and looking rather put out by his friends refusal to accept the Slytherin.
"Alright, fine. I want to talk about Malfoy." Ron said sulkily, who moved his Bishop to pulverise Harry's newly moved Knight.
"Very good Ron." Gesturing both at the chess game and at Ron's use of Draco's actual name. "What do you want to say about him?"
"This is going to sound weird, I don't know if you've noticed… but have you seen the way he looks at you?" Ron leaned in; anxious to make sure no one else in the room heard them
"Looks at me? Ron, you're not going to start spouting conspiracy theories are you?" Harry asked incredulously, the chess game abandoned.
"What? No, it's nothing like that. I know Malfoy isn't planning on blowing your head off or anything, it's not even like he wanted to join You-Know-Who, he didn't really get a choice, I know that much. I'm talking about the – the bedroom looks Malfoy gives you when he thinks no-ones looking at you!" Ron spluttered out, turning as red as his hair.
"I'm sorry, bedroom looks? Since when has Malfoy been giving me bedroom looks?" Harry asked dubiously, looking intently at the tomato-faced Ron.
"You know…come hither looks. The kind you send to someone when it's clear they want to screw you! The ones you get from all those love-sick witches down on the reception. Those sorts of looks, it's clear he wants you." Ron said all of this in a slight garble, blowing out all his breath and then returning to blushing furiously, avoiding Harry's gaze.
"Wants me? Don't be silly." Harry's voice was slightly strained, something Ron put down to surprise or horror rather than panic; Harry suddenly felt rather hot, his stomach churning, Ron couldn't find out, he thought furiously.
"I'm not, Hermione agrees, he's always giving you these weird looks. Look, I just wanted to warn you, I know you're…on that side of the Quidditch pitch now, but you know, I can't see even you sinking as low as that slimy snake."
"Ron! Stop insulting him, and don't mention that. He's really not that bad, look, he didn't have to be nice to you and he hasn't said a thing against his family, so stop trying to freak me out and turn me against him!" Harry half-shrieked, attracting the attention of Seamus and Dean who were in the corner of the room having a low-voiced conversation of their own, they glanced at him before quickly averting their gaze when they realised this was probably an argument that Harry didn't want them listening in on.
"Harry, I'm not….look, I know he's not as bad as he used to be, but in case you'd forgotten, he poisoned me, he tried to use an Unforgivable on you! Not to mention all the stuff he did when he was in You-Know-Who's little hunting pack; I just can't understand why you're so happy to forget all that and play his new best friend – I know I sound a bit like a jealous prick, but really, I just don't want you to get hurt. I didn't react very well to your break-up with Ginny, but I just want to let you know I'm still looking out for you. Just do me a favour, and try to stay out his bed, no matter if you're tempted or not, he's no good." Harry nodded at Ron's words, his heart lodging in his throat, feeling intensely guilty at lying to Ron, but not ready to spill his secrets, especially in light of Ron's intolerance to Draco.
"I'll try Ron, he's not all that, I can resist his Slytherin charm I think. Although, now you mention it, he does have a rather dashing figure, I wouldn't mind taking that to bed, I wonder whether he likes it –"
"- Harry!" Ron interjected, scowling at the smile on Harry's face,
"Oh sorry Ron, I forgot you were there, I was just fantasising about the wonderful Draco! How he looks when he smiles, how his aristocratic drawl makes me feel weak at the knees!" Harry pretended to swoon, and laughed when Ron punched him in the arm, scowl still present.
"Shut up you git, any more rubbish like that and I might end up thinking you do like him!" Ron said, half joking. His words instantly shut Harry up, and Harry's smile faded from his face, he coughed slightly.
Because Merlin forbid I could like the man. He thought sadly, hanging his head and looking back at the chess pieces, his head in turmoil, as he realised, just possibly, that he might actually like the blonde git more than he would care to admit. Moving his Queen towards Ron's unprotected King, he said,
"Checkmate." As he watched forlornly as the King was obliterated by the Queen's vicious sword, the wooden pieces shattering across the table and pulling themselves magically towards the edge of the board. Harry heart was heavy in his throat, and he couldn't help thinking, that it felt slightly more like he'd been caught much like the King by his key player, the White Queen, Draco himself.
O.o
"So basically, in principle, the difference between powdered lacewings and distilled lacewings is that powdered lacewings change the consistency of the potion to a drier quality, meaning that it has a slower effect on the person drinking it. In potions, it is advised to use distilled lacewings. Am I right?" Draco asked Harry, who was staring at the blondes mouth and admiring the soft skin covering them, remembering how it felt to kiss those lips, and not listening to a word he was saying; unfortunately, this had become commonplace over the past few weeks, ever since Ron had insinuated that Draco still liked him, Harry had been unable to get him out of his head, and now he spent most of his time with Draco admiring the blonde's striking features.
"Harry!" Draco waved a hand in front of Harry's face, and Harry instantly tore his gaze from Draco's mouth and up to his eyes, "You're drooling." Harry hastily wiped the side of his mouth, to find there was nothing there, "I was joking, but at least now I know you're paying attention. Did you listen to any of my answer?" Draco asked, irritation clear in his voice; Harry's mouth opened and closed silently, as he tried to remember anything Draco said.
"…Um, yes?" Harry questioned timidly, hoping that Draco wouldn't suddenly storm off in a huff like he was prone to do when Harry wasn't paying the utmost attention to him.
"Oh really Potter? Then what did I say?" Draco asked waspishly, clearly knowing he'd caught Harry out.
"It had something to do with lacewings…right?" Harry replied warily, wincing when Draco whacked him on the head with his potions textbook.
"Potter! I know you don't seem particularly interested in revising, but some of us need to otherwise we're going to end up working in the Leaky Cauldron, so please, pay attention and test me on Potions!" Draco snapped, opening the book again to the page he needed and handing it to a slightly stunned Harry.
"Right, the main difference between powdered lacewings and distilled lacewings is the different effect they have on the consistency of the potion. Powdered lacewings give the potion a drier quality, which slows the affect the potion has on the drinker; most potion makers advise the use of distilled lacewings, especially in medical potions such as healing salves. Am I right?" Draco deadpanned in a bored tone, clearly reciting from memory; Harry quickly scanned the page and found that Draco's answer was indeed correct and more detailed than the one in the book.
"Correct, completely, well done. Now, please can we take a break from revising? I'm so bored of it now, and you already know everything perfectly. Besides, exams are in a month, you still have plenty of time, enough time to revise everything three times over. Now please can we do something other than revising?" Harry pleaded, shutting the large book shut so as to enforce his point. Draco glared at him,
"Fine, do you have any suggestions then Harry? I have a few ideas that you'd probably turn down, but they're definitely a change from revision, in fact, we could do several of them here using this table." Draco smiled coyly, hoping for Harry's classic reaction of turning red and spluttering when he mentioned anything remotely sexual; he wasn't disappointed, Harry instantly blushed, coughed and stuttered out a, "Draco, something serious!" much to Draco's satisfaction. Harry however, was horrified to find that his imagination had gone into overdrive and was spouting out random images of him bent over the table, Draco thrusting into him from behind, something which was actually sending waves of heat towards his groin. Groaning internally, he willed his erection to go away, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
"So, if that's off the cards, do you have any other ideas?" Draco asked, smirking victoriously, unaware of Harry's inner turmoil.
"We could play Quidditch?" Harry suggested weakly, he then regretted it as he imagined Draco in tight-fitting Quidditch robes and his erection returned with a vengeance.
"Right, because we can definitely play Quidditch with no brooms and no pitch." Draco drawled sarcastically, "That was a stupid suggestion Potter, perhaps you should think through your answers before you say them. Now, either think of something we can actually do, or we go back to revision." Harry was incredibly tempted to go along with Draco's suggestion and allow him to screw him against the table, but after remembering he hadn't actually outed himself publicly and so a sudden display of sex probably wouldn't be something that the remaining year eights took particularly well.
"All right fine, we'll do more revision. Merlin knows I need help anyway, just try not to be too scathing when I get the answers wrong." Harry said, resigned to his fate, but still smiling. Truth be told, Draco made good company, no matter what they were doing, so Harry didn't actually mind spending more time with him. He just wanted to discuss something other than school, which had become their main topic of conversation as exams loomed. Actually, more than anything, he wanted to tell Draco how he felt. The only problem was he was quickly running out of time.
O.o
Harry spent the next few weeks in constant contact with Draco, whether they were revising, having lunch, or spending time with each other outside of school, they were always in one another's company. This was fine to begin with, but as the stress of exams took its toll on Harry, he began to pick fights with Draco time and time again; both irritation and sexual tension caused Harry to lash out at the blonde, and still Draco stood by him and helped him with the exams. Harry became acutely aware that they only had a week until exams, and after that only another month before he and Draco finished their education. Knowing he had feelings for Draco, he was unsure as to whether to act upon them or not, it was one thing to imagine a relationship with Draco, and another to actually begin one. He was still straight in the eyes of the wizarding world, and although Draco had told him multiple times that most witches and wizards didn't have any problem with gay wizards, he knew that most people would change their view of him depending on his sexuality, which was why he was so reluctant to even consider going after Draco. There was also the little voice at the back of his head which made snide little comments about his feelings and undermined them, refusing to seriously believe he liked Draco as much as he wanted to think; this voice time and time again stopped him from pursuing a relationship with Draco. It was only when he and Draco discussed Draco's date the previous night with an intern from one of the ministry offices that Harry realised he would be in incredibly pain if he saw Draco fall in love with someone else and abandon him. He'd refused to accept that he felt left behind by Hermione and Ron's relationship, but to tell the truth, he was incredibly lonely now that the two of them were off planning their future together. Losing Draco would hurt just as much, and Harry wasn't prepared for that to happen, but he wasn't prepared for a relationship, which left him where exactly?
O.o
"You're not getting it Harry." Draco grumbled, twirling his wand in his hands slowly,
"Look Draco, I don't need you to tell me whether I'm getting it or not. I can see for myself that I'm not doing the spell correctly, perhaps because it doesn't seem to be doing what I want it to do." Harry snapped heatedly, waving his wand in a swift motion and whispering the incantation to the…curse inside his head. Nothing happened to Draco, who remained standing and unharmed a few metres away from Harry, a defeated expression on his tired face.
"Harry, come on, admit it non-verbal spells are just clearly not your thing. Besides, we've been working at this for hours, you haven't eaten, and I know you've barely slept since Monday. Take a break." Draco said, approaching Harry slowly.
"No! I don't need food right now, I told you, I'm not hungry and I'm not tired. I need to get this right! I can't fail, not now…I don't see why some non-verbal spells are so easy but I can't get this one right!" Harry said slightly hysterically, his hand clenched on his wand, preparing to perform the spell again.
"Harry, I mean it, look, I know with the exams coming up things are a little stressful, but it's gone midnight, you look exhausted, I know you feel like crap, and frankly you look awful too." Draco said earnestly, trying to put Harry's wand arm down and get the brunet to sit down and realise he needed to take a break. Harry batted him away impatiently,
"Not now Draco! Come on, just a few more practices…please?" Harry pleaded, "I know I can get it right, I just need a few more goes." He brought his wand up and repeated the same swift, complicated motion and still nothing happened. Harry screamed and Draco winced at the noise which grated on his ears like nails down a chalkboard.
"Harry! Look at me; you need to take a break. We can work on this tomorrow, but you need sleep. Come on, I'll apparate you home." Draco took a grasp on Harry's wrist, which Harry pulled out of the grip instantly.
"That's easy for you to say Draco; you can do the bloody spell." Harry grumbled darkly, before turning and saying in a whiny tone, "Why won't you help me out here? I stuck with all your revision sessions, and you can't even help me out with one little spell. And you call yourself my friend." Harry snorted at the idea, unaware of the hurt expression on Draco's face.
"Alright Potter, I've tried to be nice. Stop messing about and acting like a child, we're going home." Draco pulled Harry along to the exit of the Ministry roughly, the brunet struggling and swearing at him. Draco eventually was caught by a flying fist and knocked in the jaw. As his teeth clashed together, his vision turned red and he slammed Harry against the wall of the wall of the Ministry reception.
"Oh playing rough now are we Draco? What happened, I thought you were the caring lover?" Harry mocked, his head pounding from the smash to the wall.
"What the hell is your problem? I'm trying to help you out here Harry, I know you're frustrated, but it's extremely unlikely that you will manage any of the non-verbal spells when you're practically half dead with fatigue and hunger, I've told you this, you and I both know it's the truth!" Draco snapped rather loudly, pressing Harry closer to the wall,
"Trying to help me? Is that what you call it?" Harry laughed humourlessly, "You're the bloody reason I can't concentrate! Does that make you happy Draco, knowing you got to me finally?" Draco's face turned concerned,
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked curiously, his grip on Harry loosening slightly, causing Harry to squirm in his grip even though it seemed that he had resigned himself to defeat.
"You know exactly what it means Draco." Harry said wearily, shaking his head,
"No, Potter, I really don't. What do you mean I 'Got to you'?" Draco asked confusion clear on his face. Harry gave another mirthless laugh, the slightly hysterical sound sounding wrong coming out of Harry's mouth.
"Honestly Draco, think about it, you've spent all these months making little comments about our meeting and what happened, isn't it obvious?" Harry exclaimed, "I like you. More than like you actually, and you know it, you've been giving me these little looks and signals for ages, just waiting for me to respond. So, are you happy now, you got inside my head and messed everything up. I can't stop thinking about you, I can't think about the exams without you popping up and distracting me. You're always there, and it's driving me mad!"
Draco was truly surprised, he'd realised he was actually quite infatuated with Harry long ago, but he hadn't expected the other boy to ever return his feelings, he'd set himself for the painful road of unrequited love. Happiness blossomed in his chest as he realised, finally, he was getting something he wanted; after years of struggling to get by, fighting with his parents, his decisions, fighting with things he could never change, finally he was allowed to get something he truly wanted.
"Harry…" Draco released Harry from his tight grip, moving one hand onto Harry's waist the other gently stroking his collarbone gently. Harry relaxed slightly into Draco's embrace, "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I am sorry you're under stress, and I am sorry I've caused you some problems, but as I said, I can be the perfect stress reliever. Let me help you." He leaned in incredibly close, close enough that his breath tickled Harry's face and Harry could count every one of Draco's eyelashes; much like before, he became entranced by the liquid mercury of Draco's eyes, and without thinking, he quietly whispered,
"Go ahead." And then Draco tensed, and Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a tube as he realised that Draco had apparated them straight into his flat. Unlike last time, there was no pause, no hesitation, Harry allowed himself to be pulled into a passionate kiss, Draco's lips pressed intensely against his own as they reclaimed Harry's mouth after nearly a years absence. Harry had to admit, it was a mistake to starve himself of Draco's presence for so long. It felt…right to be kissing Draco, to be held in Draco's arms, to feel Draco bite down his neck and suckle on his collarbone. Little bolts of electricity ran between their bodies, and the fire in Harry's stomach built as Draco's hands quickly moved under his shirt and started stroking the reactive skin of his nipples. Harry, who was impatient and wanted more, quickly undid Draco's belt, his hands pulling away at the leather. Once undone, he plunged his hand into Draco's silk boxers, stroking the hard flesh which was struggling to escape its confines and running his nail over the tip. Draco shuddered and moaned appreciatively, jutting his hips forward into Harry's hand, his pale face flushed and his eyes closed. Harry took back Draco's mouth, biting gently at the soft skin and swirling his tongue against Draco's, enjoying Draco's unique taste and the feeling of another warm body pressed up against him.
Harry squeezed Draco in his fist and suddenly he found himself on the carpeted floor, Draco lying on top of him, wrenching his trousers down to his knees and pulling Harry's down at the same time. Neither of them took time to admire one another, Draco assuming they had more time for a leisurely love-making session later, and Harry because he was too wrapped up in his own lust to care whether Draco was naked or not, only that he needed a release, and Draco needed to give him one soon. Draco quickly pulled his wand from his trouser pockets, muttering the charms which would make this easier on the two of them, and coated his fingers in saliva and the lubricant within Harry. Harry knew how it would feel this time, and so made himself relax, allowing Draco to quickly fit two fingers inside him and begin to stretch Harry out slowly, kissing Harry softly on the stomach as a means of apologising for the pain. Curling his fingers, he gently brushed against Harry's prostate, making Harry jerk and spasm on the floor. Draco added another finger, stretching and filling Harry as quickly as he could, his own neglected cock throbbing painfully in anticipation. Eventually, he retracted his fingers and propped Harry's ankles on his shoulders. He positioned himself at Harry's stretched entrance, pushing his tip in slowly. Hot warmth surrounded him and he groaned throatily, forgetting for a brief moment to hold back and pushing in before Harry had given him permission to.
"Draco," Harry hissed, pain prominent at the bottom of his spine, "Give me a moment," Draco stopped, realising his mistake, and kissed Harry softly on the lips in way of an apology. After a brief pause, Harry nodded and Draco pushed forwards, into the heat of Harry's body, the tightness of his muscles pulsing around him. Harry moaned, slightly from pain and from the wonderful feeling of being filled so wholly. Draco pulled out, Harry's muscles retracting around him and pressing on his erection almost uncomfortably, and pushed back in hard, Harry's enlarged member brushing against his stomach and twitching slightly as Draco pulled out and slammed back in once again, this time just brushing Harry's prostate with his tip.
"Urgh…harder Draco…nnh, please." Harry barely choked out through choked breaths and moans; Draco obliged to his demands and slammed back into him, this time Harry's hips thrusting against his own in accordance. Draco kept pushing into him, each thrust harder than the previous one; all pretences abandoned, the two of them completely forgot there was any love in their relationship and settled for hard fucking, Draco mercilessly pounding into Harry whilst Harry returned each thrust with a movement of his hips. Eventually, after what felt like several torturous hours, Draco, who balanced Harry against the thick carpet, wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped at him, Harry's inner muscles tightening around him as he did so. They came together, Harry's own voice hoarse from shouting Draco's name and Draco silent, panting from exertion. Draco kissed Harry sweetly on the lips, a soft smile on his face, his hair covering his eyes and forehead. Lying there on the carpet, a thin sheen of sweat covering their naked skin, they were content, wrapped up in each others arms like typical lovers. Draco eventually grabbed a blanket from beside the sofa and covered them with it, entwining their hands still, so as to keep Harry with him this time, hoping he wouldn't desert him in fear like he did the year previous. Harry, for once, was not panicking, was not worrying about what everyone else would think, he was completely unconcerned with the outside world, nothing mattered other than him and Draco; lying there on the floor of Draco's flat, hands linked, there was nothing to destroy their perfect little world, no person or thing or event that could ruin the peace he had there. Nothing that is, except a knock on the window from Pigwidgeon, which spelled disaster clearer than any Dark Mark.
O.o
"Don't answer it." Draco pleaded to Harry, gripping his hand tighter, not ready to leave this little idyllic moment between the two of them behind, "Harry come on, it's probably just Weasley asking you where you are. Just leave it." But Harry still stood up, the sheet falling in a pool around his feet and turned to the window. Pigwidgeon flew in, his usual excitable nature missing, instead of fluttering around the room like he normally would he merely held still and allowed Harry to remove the letter from his leg. Harry already worried as to what would merit a sudden call from Ron's owl, and became even more concerned when he noticed the change in the owl's usual temperament. Taking the letter from the bird's leg, he uncurled the badly tied letter and read the messy scribble across the parchment. Worry crossed his features, and he quickly turned around and tried to find him wand. Summoning his clothes, Harry quickly pulled on his trousers and shirt, before hastily scrawling a reply on some parchment he pulled from his pocket and attaching it to Pigwidgeon. Draco watched all this silently, waiting for an explanation from Harry as to what the letter said and as to why he suddenly had to pull his clothes on and leave Draco's side. When he received none, he asked coldly,
"Are you going to give me an explanation?" Harry looked quickly up at him as he did up his shirt buttons, not expecting to manage doing them up with his wand; he flashed Draco a strained grin.
"Look Draco, something has come up. I – look, I'm needed more elsewhere; I'm sorry, I wish I could stay here, but I have to go." Draco's face turned stony at this revelation, the stirrings of jealousy beginning in his stomach.
"Needed somewhere else?" He repeated blankly, "Something has come up? For fuck's sake Harry, something's always going to be up. Stay here." He said forcefully, standing up and pulling the sheet around his waist, moving forward and going as far as holding Harry's wrist in a firm grip.
"Draco let go, I can't take you with me. I'm sorry, I've got to go." Draco's grip tightened,
"No, Harry, you don't get to disappear again and put us right back to square one. You're going to stay here,
for once; we're going to talk about this. About us!" aHaHarry frowned, making his lips purse and a dark look cross into his eyes.
"There is no us Draco, you said it yourself; this was all relieving stress. A pity fuck, that's all it was." Harry hissed, sounding dangerously angry; he realised, and his features softened slightly. "Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on. I've got to go. Please release my wrist."
"You don't have to go anywhere Potter; do you actually have some life threatening reason to leave? Or is this an elaborate ruse to get you out of my presence?"
"For once Draco, this isn't all about you. I have somewhere to be. I'll see you around." Harry tugged his arm out of Draco's lax hold and tightened the grip on his wand.
"Don't…Harry please don't. Not again, I've spent a year trying to get you back, and besides tomorrow you'll pretend it never happened and I'll have to start all over again." Draco begged desperately,
"Draco, I'm not some prize for you to win. We don't have anything, we're not together, and you're right about tomorrow, it will be as if nothing has changed. That's just how it is…" He tailed off, looking away from Draco's pained face. "Be seeing you, exams on Monday, good luck." Draco looked away, the taste of bitterness strong in his mouth; he heard a brief crack and looked up to see Harry had disappeared.
"I love you, idiot, and if anything, I think you do too. That's what we have together." Draco sighed, his chest hurting from some unknown injury. He sat back on the sofa, breathing heavily, brushing his face with his hand, clutching the sheet tighter around his waist. Eventually though, he did what was usually frowned upon by any Malfoy.
He cried.
O.o
"Gin, oh Ginny I'm sorry." Pulling the sobbing girl into his arm, he allowed her to bury her head against his chest and cry openly. Beside him stood a pale Ron, his hand clutching tightly at Hermione's, trying to take some comfort from her contact but still visibly shaking in shock. Through the room next to them, a sickly looking George was lying on a bed, bandages covering his chest and a blood stained hospital gown covering his emaciated body; beside him stood a concerned Mr Weasley stroking the head of a blank-faced Mrs Weasley.
Harry's palms began to sweat and his stomach churned as he stood in the familiar white corridors of St Mungo's, a place even he had spent a week or so in, coping with trauma, and battle scars and helping to care for those who hadn't been as fortunate as he had in recovering. He thought he was over this now, all the worrying and the crying and the mourning – he thought it was all over, and they moved on, brushing away the cobwebs of the past and embracing the light. He thought George was at least coping with the death of Fred better more than it turned out he had been. A Dark Arts curse to the chest in an attempt to rip out his heart didn't really show that George was coping, was okay, was surviving. He was only alive because Ginny had burst into the room and deflected the curse, stopping him from severing the arteries that led to his heart and instead caused extensive damage to the ribs and the skin and muscle around his heart, which had ripped and torn, splashing blood all over Ginny as well as George. Although, Harry thought morbidly, a minute, a second later, and George would be lying in the morgue and not on the hospital bed. Chances like that weren't meant to be taken; it was all too close to the bone in Harry's opinion.
He realised, now that Ginny had finally stopped crying, her tearstained face tinged pink with the blood splatters which had combined with the salty tears in rivulets down her face. Her bright hair was messy, matted on her head, and her skin was hot to his touch; he stroked her forehead, waiting for her to stop shuddering as she took in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Eventually, the shudders desisted, and Ginny calmed herself. Standing beside Harry, her hand linked with his, she looked a little lost, as if unsure what to do now she was managing to control herself. They stood together, Hermione and Ron beside them, worry almost tangible in the air around them. An hour went by, another, and another, and then eventually, after what felt like the longest wait of Harry's life one of the Mediwizards came out looking harried but not necessarily apologetic.
"You're George Weasley's family I assume?" The Mediwizard said, glancing at the red hair on Ron and Ginny and then briefly at Harry's scar. "His mother and father are still in the room. Good news, he'll be fine. Quite a nasty curse he tried on himself, but it was intercepted so it was a lot less powerful in the end. He's lucky, it really looked like he wanted to kill himself. Miss Weasley, he should thank you for that one day, a second later…anyway – you're free to go home now. We'll keep you updated, and I'm sure you'll receive news from Mr and Mrs Weasley soon." The Mediwizard nodded at them, then took his leave and walked off down the corridor and out of sight.
"We're going to stay around I think Harry, Hermione and I will probably go and grab a cup of tea in the café." Ron said, looking a lot more relieved than he had done minutes previous.
"Okay, we'll see you back at the Burrow, I'm gonna take Ginny home. I don't think she's in a fit state to Apparate home on her own." Harry tightened his arm around Ginny, "Come on, let's get you home." After saying a quiet good-bye to his friends, he led Ginny out of the doors of St Mungo's and apparated into the warm summer air.
O.o
Harry ushered Ginny inside, and instantly sat her down on the drooping sofa in the living room; Ginny had not spoken once since she'd screamed after finding George in his room and instantly rushed for help, but she thanked him quietly, still holding onto his hand like a life-line.
"I think there's some Firewhiskey in the cupboard next to the sink Harry, grab it and a glass please." Ginny said very quietly, the words just barely louder than her own breathing.
"Ginny, I really don't – " Harry tried to persuade her off it,
" – If you won't get it, I'll go over there and get it myself Harry. I want a drink…no, I need a drink. I just saw my brother try and curse himself to pieces Harry, I need to forget. So, pour me a drink please." Ginny snapped, her brown eyes flashing as she made to stand and push past the concerned looking Harry.
"I'll get it…sorry Gin." Harry walked over to the cupboard and grabbed the almost full bottle of alcohol, and two glasses from the draining board. Pouring out a liberal amount, he handed the glass to Ginny, who downed it in one and held out the glass for more. Harry poured her another regretfully, and she nursed this one for slightly longer. Grabbing one of the wooden chairs from the dining table, he perched himself in front of her, and watched the shock slowly drain from her face, replaced by a blank expression and glazed eyes.
O.o
An hour later or so, and Ginny was royally pissed. The bottle was nearly completely empty, and Harry was still completely sober. He had since moved from the stool in front of Ginny to the sofa, where Ginny had been inching steadily closer and was now playing with his hair in what she supposed was an inconspicuous fashion.
"Pour me another drink H-Harry." Ginny slurred slightly, reaching out for the bottle, which Harry pulled slightly out of her reach.
"Gin, I really think you've had enough." Ginny's eyes flashed once again, and she growled,
"Oh really Harry…you think I've had enough. Well who cares what you think? Pour me another glass." She ordered him venomously. Harry handed her the bottle instead and she took a hefty gulp from it, leaving only a small dribble left. Ginny moved closer to Harry, gripping his shirt in her small hands,
"You're so good to me Harry, taking care of me, cheering me up. I have missed you these few months. That silly fight we had, I can't even think what it was about." Ginny's mouth was only inches away from Harry's now and he was trying to back away but Ginny had pressed him into the corner of the sofa and he had no place to go. "It doesn't really matter now, because you're here, and I've missed you ever so much." Ginny leaned in closer and pressed her lips to Harry's throat. Harry panicked, unsure what to do and pushed Ginny away roughly, standing up out of range of the inebriated red-head.
"What's the matter Harry, I thought you liked me?" Ginny said in a hurt tone, now standing unsteadily and making her way over to Harry. Harry, who hadn't the heart to push her away again, kept moving backwards away from the prowling girl, until once again, he found himself against a wall. Dodging out of the way, he tripped on the chair leg of the wooden chair, and fell flat on his behind. Wincing terribly, he was reminded exactly of the things he had been doing just hours ago, and he climbed up, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain in his back.
"Harry, stay still, I can hardly kiss you if you keep moving away." Ginny whined, lunging forward and gripping Harry's arm in a surprisingly tight grasp. She puckered her lips and went straight for Harry's mouth, kissing him sloppily, another hand curled tightly in his hair, keeping him there against her. Harry tried to pull away, and he just gripped his hair tighter, ripping several strands from his scalp. Ginny frowned, detaching herself from his face, "Harry, why are you struggling? Stop it!" She shook him and a few more strands of hair fell out; seeing that Harry was momentarily dazed, she began kissing him again. When he still didn't respond, she shoved him a little. "Harry, move your mouth, I'm trying to kiss you!" She shouted impatiently,
"I am fully aware of that Ginny! And I'm not going to move my mouth, because I don't want to kiss you!" Harry snapped back readily, quickly moving when Ginny's grip on his hair relaxed.
"You don't?" Ginny asked hesitantly,
"No Gin, I really don't." Harry replied earnestly,
"I remember why we broke up now." Ginny said coldly, instantly moving away from Harry,
"Gin…"
"Ron told me you're friends with Draco Malfoy; do you share his bed too Harry? Is that why you won't kiss me back?"
"Ginny! That's not – Look, I didn't kiss you because you're still in shock, George is in hospital! You're completely drunk; I can't kiss you when you're so out of it." Harry stammered, but Ginny noticed his slight hesitation,
"So that's why you won't kiss me then. Not because you've been fucking men, but because I'm so drunk." Ginny said cynically, laughing at the earnest expression on Harry's face, knowing he was lying through his teeth even in her inebriated state.
"I told you Gin, I'm here to help." He held out his hands, trying to look sincere.
"Then you can help by leaving, you've been here enough, you know where the door is."
"Ginny…"
Harry reached out to touch her, but Ginny flinched away, "Don't touch me! I don't want your hands on me; god knows where they've been."
"Gin, you've got it all wrong, I'm here to help you, come on, I don't want us to fight." Harry pleaded desperately,
"Don't make me hex you Harry, I said get out. So go" Ginny said through gritted teeth
"Ginny please…I'm sorry I pushed you away, it has nothing to do with Draco, I promise."
"Can you say that straight to me, look me deep in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for Draco Malfoy? That you've never even considered going after him?" Ginny asked quietly, looking directly at Harry, who diverted his eyes. Ginny laughed mirthlessly, "Did you ever love me Harry? Or were you just hoping you would do one day?" Harry remained silent,
"Sorry Ginny. I really am." Ginny looked at Harry, the anger fading from her face, knowing it wasn't his fault. It wasn't hers either, but it felt like it.
"I think we all are, there's nothing to change the past though. Do me a favour though Harry, don't ruin it with him too. I'm not saying you deserve love, but we all need it. We're still fixing things; George is still trying to deal with Fred…perhaps you need your own coping mechanism. You seemed happier. Ron thought you were too." Ginny said wistfully, Harry stared at her for a minute, nodded and then walked out of the door without another word.
O.o
Upon arriving at Grimmauld Place, sitting down heavily in one of the dining room chairs, Harry finally allowed Ginny's words to sink in. He hadn't really thought about Draco the entire time he'd been at St Mungo's, but he realised now that the blonde would not be happy with him, especially since he ran out on him post-coitus. It was far too late for him to fire-call Draco, and although a letter probably wouldn't be appreciated, Harry thought that was the only decent form of communication he could use. Grabbing a roll of parchment from one of the kitchen drawers, he Summoned his quill and some ink and began to write Draco a letter explaining why he'd done what he had.
Dear Draco,
I realise you're probably not very happy with me, and I know I should be sorry, but I had to leave for a good reason. Ron sent me a letter telling me George was in St Mungo's – he attempted suicide – andl I've been a part of their family for years now, so George is like a brother to me. I had to go see him, in case the Mediwizards couldn't do anything to help him. You understand don't you? Family means a lot to you Malfoy's; surely, you can see why I had to leave? I am sorry, for running out, and for what we did; and what I said. I didn't mean it, caught up in the moment and all that. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Please, let me know we're okay.
Yours,
Harry
Satisfied, Harry put down the quill and rolled up the parchment, whistling for his new owl Icarus who flew down and offered up his leg without a sound. Addressing the parchment to Draco with a flourish, he sent the owl off and waited. An hour passed, another and another, and then Harry was dozing in his chair, just as the early rays of sun poured in through the window next to the cooker. Eventually, a sharp tapping woke Harry from his slumber, and he let in Icarus from the window. Feeding him some of the fat rinds from a plate on the windowsill, he checked for a letter on the owl's leg, but couldn't find one. Confused, Harry looked at the bird, who stared up at him with baleful eyes.
"No reply? Did he get the letter?" Icarus nipped his finger affectionately, telling Harry that Draco had received the letter, but clearly didn't want to talk to Harry. "Positive you didn't lose the letter on the way home?" Icarus glared at Harry and nipped his finger sharply, reprimanding Harry for thinking that it was a fault on his front. "Sorry boy, I didn't mean to insult you. I'll just wait, Draco can't be that mad; he'll calm down and reply soon, I'm sure of it."
O.o
Harry waited hours for Draco to reply, and feeling a little bit like a Muggle girl waiting for a phone call, he sat by the window all day waiting for a bird to fly in and drop a letter down on the kitchen table. No such letter arrived, and Harry was feeling rather dejected, exhausted and fed up by now. Waiting at the chair until his eyes were drooping and ringed with red from fatigue, he made his way upstairs and dropped on the bed; his head buried on the pillow, he fell into a troubled sleep, reliving the fight he and Draco had before he'd left. Waking up feeling more tired than he had before he went to bed, he dragged himself into the shower and washed and dressed inattentively, downing several mugs of tea in a vain effort to wake up. Grabbing his bag full of quills, he stepped out the front door, and apparated to the Ministry of Magic entrance. He spotted Draco as soon as he entered the Atrium, waving to him in greeting, but the blonde refused to acknowledge him, and Harry then realised exactly how much of a mistake leaving Draco had been.