A/N: Thank you! All your wonderful reviews (whitetyger123, Pri-Chan 1410, and Byzantea) and favourites and alerts send me strolling atop the world! Also- I have been dreadfully sick for a good two days (pathetic I know- but I really don't get sick!) so they really made my day. I hope everyone enjoys the month of March!
Warnings: Draco gets some hand action, Harry gets a heart to heart and there be brooding herein.
.XXI.
Day 23
June 24th
Harry woke, wrapped in warm blankets on a soft bed he dimly recognized as his own. Light filtered through his window and he blinked blearily up at the ceiling, trying to remember how he made it home the night before. He could remember quite clearly the argument-that-was-not-really-an-argument with Andy, the confrontation with Snape and his ridiculous spur of the moment decision, his fear then strengthened resolve when he saw Malfoy preparing to sleep in his bed!
Oh God!
Snape... He had sex with Snape.
Snape has had his cock up Harry's arse!
A slight noise notified him to the presence of someone else in the room. Harry tried to sit up quickly, falling back with a cry as knives carved into him. A hand forced his shoulders up and a vial was pressed to his lips. He did nothing to resist as he drank down the liquid offered.
A tisking sound came from somewhere above him but he was soon carried away again.
Harry blinked his eyes sleepily at his ceiling once more. It was darker than the last time he remembered being awake, but not by much. Perhaps only a few hours passed.
"Potter, if you don't want me to shove anything up your arse, I would suggest that you snap out of it and wake up!"
Ah, right! Harry shot up, groping blindly for his glasses. "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" he groaned, as his pain engulfed backside. He gritted his teeth and scooted further away from Malfoy, intending to put as much space between them as he could. He looked down, surprised to be wearing a long white night shirt. His first thought, bizarrely, was the fact that he truly shouldn't be allowed to wear white anymore. He shook his head then, trying to suss out traditional ethics that belong to Muggles alone and their women, of all people. Last Harry checked, he was not a Muggle and definitely not a woman!
Malfoy stood by the side of the bed, arms folded and looking annoyed. "No need to thank me or anything for nursing you back to heath even if it was your own blasted fault!"
"What are you talking about?" Harry shot back. The pain in his muscles faded to a tolerable throb and he flexed experimentally, wincing when the pain returned in a stab.
"I'm talking about Snape, coming here with you unconscious and nearly dead from blood loss. It took three full vials of the stuff that is specially targeted to you, to even bring you back from the brink. That damn vampire can't do magic and so he had to come here so we could spell the stuff directly into your system." Malfoy paused for a short breath before carrying on. "Then there was the damage that had to be fixed. He nearly tore your throat out and lucky for you, Andy has a healer friend who was able to come over to fix that before it scarred over. Too bad he didn't find the one by your dick in time."
Harry jerked, reaching down to grab himself. He sighed in relief as his hands closed around his penis, feeling as it always had. He glared at Malfoy's scornful laughter. "Worried he bit it off, aren't you? I was talking about the scar. It'll never go away now."
"You bloody bastard!" Harry snarled, looking around for his wand.
Malfoy moved his hand up and Harry saw it, dangling from two white fingers. "You really think that I'm the bloody bastard?" Malfoy asked. He turned his back on Harry, tossing a small glass jar over his shoulder. "You better apply that as soon as possible. The healer was certain he cleared up all the mess left from Snape but... you never know."
Harry's hand shot out and caught the jar, flipping it over in his hand and he read the label. Healing Salve. He opened the lid and scooped out the thick creamy substance on his finger and sighed, guessing rather accurately where it had to be applied. How mortifying.
Harry exited his room, certainly feeling better. He showered, shaved and dressed. The scar on his thigh was small though it was rough and deeply ingrained. An inch closer and it would have been right at the base of his—
He shivered, not wanting to follow that line of thought. He entered the kitchen with a spark of trepidation, not sure how to broach any kind of topic with Andy and not wanting to even see that smug smirk of Malfoy's for even a second—
Harry stopped on the threshold of the kitchen, his slight movement drawing attention from Andy and Malfoy who were seated at the table, eating lunch. Teddy was present also, gurgling happily around a big plastic mixing spoon. His wand lay on the table in front of his usual seat.
"Um…" he started, feeling heat rise up into his face. "Uh, Andy? I.. ah… I—"
"Sit, Harry, and eat. Before your pasta gets cold." Andy patted the table and watched.
Harry sat, gingerly as his body met the unforgiving wood of the chair. "Thanks." He mumbled, shifting and wincing.
"Oh sorry, dear." Andy said before pulling out her want and murmuring a cushioning charm. "I'm usually rather unsympathetic when it comes to the consequences of drinking and sex, however, in your case Harry…"
"One should really know not to go a round or two with a vampire, isn't that right, Harry?" Malfoy commented, emphasizing Harry's name in such a way that caused his blood to rise, and not in a good way.
"Stuff it, Malfoy." Harry growled.
"I believe you already have." Malfoy quipped, an unfriendly look in his eye.
"Harry, Draco, enough! I will not have this behaviour at the dinner table!" Andy commanded loudly. "Draco, Harry is of age and it's not unheard of for donors to have an intimate relationship with their vampires! Harry, Draco has sat beside you ever since Severus left just before dawn, so please show a little appreciation."
Harry scowled at his plate and idly picked up his fork. He took a bite.
"Very good." Andy said. "I expect you to eat everything, Harry." And with that, Andy left Harry alone with Malfoy.
Harry picked at his food and sighed nearly inaudibly. He should be ravenous. He didn't eat at all yesterday except some of the bread he found in Malfoy's room, but he didn't feel like he could stomach all that pasta either. The sigh this time carried a little more weight.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and set down his fork. "You're such a… I don't even have the words to describe what you are. Grow up, Potter." Malfoy slammed his fork on the table and rose.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To bed," Malfoy sneered. "I'm sure you don't need me to hold your hand for the rest of the day." He turned and muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Harry's temporarily keen hearing to pick up. "Merlin knows I've done enough of that last night." Harry then heard the door to his room close softly.
Annoyance, along with anger and a little bit of concern welled up within him. but the most overpowering was the shame that coated everything. He acted impulsively, erratically last night and Andy and Malfoy had to deal with the consequences while he was oblivious. And Snape… did he really stay by his side until just before dawn? The man had more than enough guilt in his first life, Harry shouldn't have added to it in his undead life. He plopped his head down on the table and groaned. Nothing, not anything, he did turned out except killing Voldemort and that's only due to a prophecy. Whatever he did under his own power backfired in the most painful and hardfelt ways.
He chucked ironically. He couldn't even loose his virginity without causing everyone around him pain. Teddy, still in his highchair, gurgled and said, "mamamamama."
"You still love me, buddy? Don't you?" Harry asked, turning his head to see the baby.
"Yayayayayaya bruuuubb."
"I love you too, Teddy." Harry sat up and looked at his full plate. "And you know what, I can't eat anything. Let's hide this from Grandma Andy and go for a walk. What do you say?"
"Aggga."
"Deal!" Harry snatched up his wand and vanished the food on his plate, picking up the dishes and setting them in the sink. He quickly washed and rinsed them, setting them to dry and then got Teddy ready for a long walk, away from the house and the people inside.
The day was hot, and the little town was pleasantly empty. Harry pushed the stroller, all at once, going faster and pushing down on the handles so the front wheels come off the ground. He stopped suddenly and looked in at Teddy and laughed. Teddy, no matter how crazily Harry handled the stroller, was oblivious. His head was tucked down against his shoulder and he was sound asleep. Harry took a moment to adjust the baby's neck then carried on, stopping at a muggle playground and finding a bench in the shade.
He hummed in satisfaction with the weather and let the turmoil of his mind filter away.
An hour later, Harry entered through the front door, carrying a happy Teddy in his arms. He put the baby down and went in search of Andy. She was in the garden.
"Andy?" Harry asked tentatively.
She looked up, pulling a weed as she went. "Yes, Harry?"
"Uh… Sorry." His hand reached up and rubbed nervously at the back of his neck before falling limply at his side again. "I, uh, don't know what came over me."
Andy sighed and sat back on her heels. "Harry, I know I'm not your mother, or any blood relation to you, but I would appreciate it if you could find some way to trust me." Harry bit his lip. "I might not have had a son, but my Nymphadora was more than handful and a sight more troublesome than even you appear to be, and I still loved her dearly."
Harry couldn't say anything to that but he looked around the garden as if noticing the numerous beds scattered throughout the small enclosure. "Can I help?" He asked.
"Thought you'd never ask." Andy stated matter of factly with a slight smirk on her face. She tossed him a gardening pick and shovel and he got to work.
Draco tried to sleep but, regardless of the exhaustion settling in his bones and muscles, his mind whirled. Potter had done it. Harry had done it! The act itself, though carnal, was not what disgusted him. Nor was it the fact that it was with a vampiric Snape. No, it was the horror in which he was brought back in just after midnight. He had, thankfully, been cleaned of most of the blood but light rusty patches decorated his skin, as if Severus was afraid of scrubbing too hard or couldn't afford the time it would take…
The latter was the scariest and the most probable.
The entire house was awake due to Severus' urgency of attaining help and Draco could do nothing except stay away and watch as Harry's life force became weaker. It seemed like forever and a day by the time the healer flooed in, waving his wand in spectacular sweeps over Harry's body, spelling blood replenisher into his system while simultaneously healing the bite wound on his neck, the light bruising on his wrists and starting the process in which to transfer Serverus' blood into Harry's body.
Half an hour later, the second wound, one cutting into a large artery, was discovered when Severus snapped his head up and hissed in dire excitement. Just in time, was that wound sealed and cleaned though unable to be fully healed due to the collection of already clotting cells.
Harry was stabilized, though comatose and Draco hovered, nearly as protectively as Severus himself. It was that moment, just before sunrise when Severus looked at him. He wordlessly gave up his right to Harry's body and attention, retracting those rather unveiling threats expressed only days earlier. The man rose and vanished into the house. With the whoosh of the floo, Draco sagged in relief and sat in Severus' vacated chair, taking his turn to grab a hold of Harry's cold and nearly bloodless hand.
At that moment, Draco swore to himself that he would never allow anything else happen to Harry.
He broke that self made pledge within only hours of making it! Harry had opened those brilliantly green eyes and Draco fell in love with him. He opened that rosy mouth and Draco instantly wanted to hex the man!
So what if his comment had seemed slightly degrading? It was nothing to be embarrassed about, though Draco had to fight down his jealousy with tremendous effort. The salve was something that had to be reapplied every four to five hours until the pain was completely gone or scar tissue would form. The healer tended to the first application and Severus had done the second. It was going on hour six by the time Harry had woken up and Draco was only concerned…
He rolled over again, on his stomach and willed his erection away. Now was definitely not the time to be getting hard, thinking of Harry and application to that part of the body, while trying to sleep in the boy's bed!
Draco gritted his teeth, taking slow, deep breaths through his nose and thought of highly, unarousing things. Like his Aunt, then his mother, then his father, then Goyle, then Crabbe (fuck!) then of Hogwarts, then of Slytherin, then of Gryffindore, then of Potter—
Damn. Didn't work. He groaned, muffling the sound in the pillow which smelled of the shampoo Harry uses and of his skin, earthy, impassioned… Draco sat up and threw off the covers. He growled as he stalked to the connecting bathroom and stripped to his skin. Seriously, if the problem wouldn't go away by itself, he would just have to force it to leave.
He took his stance, splayed legs, in front of the toilet and griped his cock in a tight, unforgiving hold. He stroked roughly, stopping at the tip to roll the looser skin up and down, displaying and covering the bulbous head in an agonizing replica of the actual act itself, missing the imagined tightness over his entire length rather than just what his hand could produce. He returned to stroking, freely envisioning Harry bending over in front of him while he gripped his hips tight. His free hand found purchase on the smooth porcelain of the cistern while his hips snapped forward, pressing his cock through the circle of his fingers and palm.
Heat and a tingle rose up, deep in his stomach and his testicles tightened. With his head thrown back and an uttered cry falling from his swollen lips, Draco released, panting heavily and casting a guilty look at the bathroom door. Without the benefit of a silencing charm, Draco had tossed off in his Aunt's home, in the private bathroom belonging to his schoolyard rival and secret obsession. Merlin, he was hopeless.
Draco cleaned himself and wiped up any excess that didn't make it into the toilet bowl, he threw on his trousers and crawled back into bed, his mind now blissfully blank but the rather energized twitch of his muscles had him up and stalking into the kitchen. No rest of the wicked.
Harry looked up as sound came from the house and glared as Malfoy stared at them through the window. He looked like a right prat, staring down his nose in distain as Andy and Harry worked in the garden. Harry felt his lips curl up in a sneer and Malfoy looked down and away. Harry's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. Well, that was different. Maybe he was just disgusted with Harry that he couldn't even exchange a proper glare.
Harry shrugged, determined to ignore the blond wizard for as long as he could.