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Chapter 15: Two Encounters of Different Natures
"You're the one I need, my real life has just begun. 'Cause there's nothing like your smile made of sun. In a world full of strangers, you're the one I know."
- Shakira, The One
A few more days passed, with Hermione's presence bringing a semblance of normality, until it was the evening before Hogwarts was due to reopen - ten days since the Great Fall (term courtesy of Daily Prophet). There was last minute packing, some minor drinking, and, finally, a pervading good humor. Ginny and the trio were all excited to be going back to Hogwarts, and it symbolized a return to routine - or, at least, an end to the horrible chaos of the war (and the twins were thrilled to be finally getting their apartment back). Even Harry was finally allowing himself to smile and laugh, his friends tireless efforts to cheer him up finally beginning to work.
Little note was made of the fact that there was a confident knocking on the door, and Ron went to answer it.
"Malfoy!" In the other room, Harry felt his heart jump into his throat and, after a frozen pause to recover from the shock, he sprinted to the door, the other three Weasleys and Hermione close on his heals.
He froze again at seeing Draco, standing there in the doorway, his mind practically shutting down, and he had to remind himself to even breath. Draco was looking stunning, as usual, but better somehow, healthier, stronger. His blond hair glowed, tucked neatly behind delicate ears; his eyes sparkled like the ocean; and the hesitant and uncertain expression on his face ballooned into a handsome, genuine smile upon seeing Harry. Harry absolutely could not believe his eyes.
"Granger. Weasleys four, . . . Potter," a smooth voice projected, eyes never leaving Harry's. Harry was stunned: his vision spoke.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?," Ron asked nastily, aggressively. He really hated the arrogant, underhanded Slytherin, and was highly displeased to find his odious presence on his own doorstep. "Changing sides now that your side has obviously lost, you snake? How does that feel, by the way? Or is it just that you can't you see when you're not wanted?"
Draco looked taken aback, though in retrospect, he knew he shouldn't have been. He had just been. . . so eager to find Harry that he hadn't fully appreciated the implications of the fact Harry was staying with the Weasley twins (a fact revealed by the locating spell he had done on his mother's collar). He looked from Ron to the hostile faces of his siblings, to the guarded face of Granger (who had firmly decided to let Harry deal with Draco), then to Harry's blank, expressionless one. Suddenly, he didn't feel so sure of himself. Maybe he shouldn't have come. He could've waited to see Harry at Hogwarts the next day, but he hadn't wanted him to discover it that way. He hadn't wanted to wait.
After an awkward and unfriendly silence in which Draco failed to respond to Ron's barb, honestly not knowing what to say, Hermione finally spoke, figuring she'd buy Harry a couple of seconds to come to grips with reality. "How did you survive?"
Draco smiled nervously, feeling on very uncertain footing and not knowing how much everyone knew. "The classic way. . . magic," he managed to reply smoothly, though his smile would have given him away to an astute observer.
"How did you do it?," Harry asked bluntly, finally finding his tongue - but just barely. His mind was still having difficulty grasping more than the basic thoughts and inconsistencies.
Now Draco was growing very uncomfortable, very uneasy, and a little frightened. He got the distinct impression that he had made a bad decision in coming here, that he didn't belong here. Why was Harry asking him these questions in front of everyone? "Same answer as before, I'd say," Draco finally replied.
Another awkward silence ensued, but when George began tapping his foot, Ron asked unkindly, "Why are you here again, Malfoy?"
Draco's eyes pleaded with Harry, but Harry was still too numb to react. His mind was like a broken record: he's alive, he's alive, he's alive. Finally, Draco had had enough of the public humiliation - never something he had ever had much tolerance for. He beat himself up enough as it was, but his pride would not allow others to do so too. He wanted to yell at Harry, and to yell at his friends that he was here for Harry, but he loved Harry too much and had been a dirty secret for too long to expose him in front of those who mattered to him.
Draco's stomach dropped to his feet and he almost gagged. How could he have been so happy, so excited just an hour ago? How could he have been so wrong? He couldn't hate Harry though, not really, just himself. It was his fault for hoping, it always was, he did do it to himself, he hurt himself. How could he think that things would be different, just because his tormentors were dead? If he did it to himself, then the death of others would never change anything. What had he been thinking, if at all? Of course Harry would never be able to acknowledge him publicly, could not associate with him, not even as a friendly acquaintance. Draco was scum, a whore, an embarrassment, a dirty secret. He had made a horrible, horrible mistake, and he was filled with such self hatred that he was sure he would do something violent to himself as soon as he had escaped from these vultures. Draco backed away from the door, with an uncharacteristic lack of grace, eyes wide like a rabbit's before a pack of wolves. "Actually, I think I've made a terrible mistake. I'll just be going now."
"You do that," Fred growled.
NO! Harry's mind finally kicked in, now that he was confronted with the terrifying possibility of losing Draco, before his mind had even had the chance to come to terms with the fact that he was still alive. NO! He would never let his baby, his happiness, his love, out of his sight again. "NO!," Harry shouted, finally managing to work his vocal cords. Then he forced his feet to work and he pushed forward, past the Weasleys, to Draco and overwhelmed him in a tight embrace, crushing them together, vanishing any distance between them. His hand made its way up to stroke soft hair and he showered the surprised face with hyper kisses. "Draco, Draco, Draco. You're alive! I can't believe you're alive!" Then he giggled somewhat hysterically.
The Weasleys were staring at the two of them with gaping mouths. Hermione wasn't quite as shocked, but even she was surprised, though this certainly solved some questions she had. Ron suddenly gagged, Ginny giggled nervously, and both twins released an interested grunt: Harry was passionately kissing Draco - desperately and adoringly, his tongue lapping at lips and teeth.
When they finally broke apart, Draco smiled shyly at Harry, who gazed intimately into his eyes, filled with wonder. "Really," he whispered. "What happened to you?"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!," Ron shouted, forcing the two lovers to jerk their faces towards him. Draco wanted nothing more that to bury into Harry's shoulder and forget his horrible friends, but he forced himself to maintain his dignity and stared challengingly at Ron, waiting to see how Harry wanted to play it: Draco was a good actor.
Awkwardly, Harry looked at Draco, then back at Ron and the rest, then he gripped Draco tighter. "Uh, well, to make a long story short, uh, Draco helped me kill Voldemort and he saved my life. More than once, in fact. And he's responsible for totaling the Ministry, though I'm still not sure how he did that. I thought he was dead, actually." Seeing the outrage and disbelief written on the four freckled faces (Hermione was just looking interested), Harry continued, "I. . . I beg you, give him a chance. I'm, uh, in love with him."
Harry was blushing the deepest shade of crimson any of his friends had ever seen him sport, but Harry was not a coward and he wouldn't hurt Draco by denying the truth; and the expression on Draco's face was more than enough to convince him of the rightness of his declaration: the beautiful blonde was looking at Harry with an expression of absolute, naked devotion and idolization. Harry had told his friends! Harry. . . was serious about him then, right? He had never not been a dirty secret, and the rush of hope and love was enough to make him feel faint, and his knees trembled. (In the background, Ron asked skeptically, "He's Draco now?!")
Harry looked deeply into Draco's eyes, strong arms supporting him, their lips mere centimeters apart. "You do love me, don't you?," he asked, his voice betraying some uncertainty.
"Of course," Draco gushed, leaning in for another mind blowing kiss. Harry felt his body eagerly respond to the perfect, sexy form in his arms and he buried his face into the flawless neck, inhaling the comforting, familiar, appealing smell of Draco.
"Oh, Merlin. I definitely need to go sit down," Ron interrupted, sounding appalled, and he retreated from the hallway.
"Me too," Ginny squeaked, quickly following him.
Harry disregarded them, focusing on communicating his love and happiness through his eyes, wanting to be nothing more than to be alone with his angel. Finally, he felt too much to be content with this visual exchange and he asked, "George, Fred, could I please talk to Draco privately, in one of your rooms? Please. I promise I'll explain, but right now, I really need to talk to him. . . alone. Please."
The tone of his voice was practically begging, and neither twin could hide the mischievous grins that came to their faces. Both appreciated that fact Draco was one of the sexiest beings, male or female, or even Veela, that either of them had ever seen (indeed, most people could say this of Draco), and there was no doubt in their minds that Harry wanted to do more than talk. They were somewhat dubious and suspicious about the fact that it was Draco Malfoy, but they trusted Harry explicitly and they were not so easy to shock or offend as either Ron or Ginny. Both twins knew people who had had things for the blond menace.
After a brief, confirming glance at George, Fred agreed, a faint smirk on his face. "Okay, why don't you two take the workshop downstairs?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, questioningly, but Harry ignored her in favor of ushering Draco to the staircase. "Thanks. I promise I'll explain."
"Take your time," George called after them snarkily.
Harry latched the door behind them, then turned to gaze hungrily at Draco, who was curiously and cautiously poking around the chaotic workshop. "Wow. This is quite an arrangement they have here." Experimentally testing the sturdiness of what appeared to be a padded trampoline, Draco turned around and arched a sexy eyebrow at him.
"Yes. It is. . . So what happened to you? How'd you do it? How'd you survive?" He wanted nothing more than to devour the vision in front of him, but business first.
Nervously, Draco looked at the ground, then finally brought his eyes up to Harry's.
"There's this obscure ancient spell that creates a massive sphere of destructive energy. The only catch is that the caster must sacrifice himself and the life of his greatest enemy."
"Your father." So it had been the rumored hate spell.
"Yes. I ripped his throat out with my teeth." Draco didn't really know why he told Harry that, only that he had wanted to. He didn't know how to feel about his actions (guilty? ashamed? indifferent?) and he wanted Harry to judge, to tell him how to feel.
But Harry didn't judge, just looking a bit surprised; love, after all, is blind. "Did he hurt you?," he asked tightly, feeling as though someone was squeezing his throat.
"No more than usual," Draco responded, trying to sound flippant.
Harry spared no time crossing the room to him and gathering the thin figure in his arms. "I'm sorry," he professed supportively, nuzzling the pale neck and hair. He squeezed him, for his own comfort, hating the way his knowledge of Draco's suffering made him feel.
"Don't be," Draco replied, grateful to be back in Harry's arms.
Harry pulled back slightly to look Draco in the eyes. "How'd you survive?"
"I almost didn't. I shouldn't have. The spell drained me of all life and left me for dead, the way it's supposed to, with the Ministry collapsing all around me. I had only a matter of seconds. But my mother was there, right? You saw her. I'd told her to protect herself by staying in this protective bubble, but she came out of it once the spell had worked its destruction, killing everyone. Because the building was crumbling, the protective enchantments on the place were no longer working, and so my mother was able to apparate me out to safety, where she healed me."
"Healed you?"
"She has latent powers, some not unlike mine. I'm actually not sure what she did to me, and she's not coherent to tell me. I guess my mother is just not a person that one can ever really know. But she saved me. Maybe she is more human than I have ever given her credit for."
There was a pensive moment of silence before Draco continued, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. In truth, I only woke up a few days ago, finding myself at the Snape Manor, and then I didn't want to show up looking like the living dead."
"Draco," Harry replied joked. "I would have been thrilled with anything that wasn't the dead dead."
Draco smiled, though it faded after a moment. "What about tomorrow at Hogwarts? Are you sure telling your friends was a good idea?"
"I don't want to hide, do you? Don't you think we've been hiding for long enough? As for my friends, they'll learn to deal. They're good people and they love me. Who knows, someday they may even be your friends," Harry teased.
"Ick. Granger I don't mind, but the Weasel?," Draco replied with mock disgust, secretly pleased to no end by Harry's words.
"Weasel, ferret - you're practically family." Harry's grin was so big that his cheek muscles hurt, and Draco was looking lightly appalled.
"Don't EVER say that to me again."
Harry smiled warmly at Draco, who returned the smile, and Harry was struck by how much more alive Draco was when he was being real. "I don't want you to be anyone but yourself ever again," he whispered softly, deeply, causing a shiver to run up Draco's spine. Harry lightly brushed his lips against Draco's, one hand tracing the delicate, sensitive ridges of Draco's ear, and when Harry's other hand stroked the bony knobs of his spine, under his shirt, Draco's breathing suddenly altered and his eyelids drooped, his mind trying to give in to the pleasant fuzziness.
[(MANDITORY WARNING: GRAPHIC SLASHY SEX IS ABOUT TO ENSUE!)]
The shorter, broader boy rubbed his body tantalizingly against Draco and Draco moaned, his mouth suddenly dry, "Har-ry.
Harry looked into his dilated pupils: it would be so easy to seduce Draco into great sex, but what did the blonde want? It was not like their last arrangement had been entered into willingly, despite the greatness had. "Draco," he began huskily, trying to restrain himself, though his desire was almost overpowering. He had never wanted anything as he wanted Draco - not just now, not just for sex, but in general, and forever. "Draco, what do you want? Now, I mean."
Draco opened his eyes, breathing heavily. "I don't want you to stop, Harry, if that's what you're asking. You make me feel. . . better than I have ever felt in my life. I don't know what I want, but I want you to help me find out."
It was as much encouragement as Harry needed, and he claimed Draco's lips in a heated kiss, to which Draco responded enthusiastically. Draco's hands rested lightly on his hips, hesitantly holding Harry close to him, and Harry's hands were all over the place - ghosting and rubbing over his back, over ribs and hips and shoulder blades. When they finally broke their kiss, they were both panting. Harry freed himself from Draco's embrace and eagerly pulled his T-shirt off and toed off his shoes. Draco took a longer time, carefully untying his shoes, then beginning to meticulously unbutton his shirt. But Harry was impatient, and he closed the distance between them, taking over Draco's nervous struggle with his buttons. Then he slowly parted the shirt, trembling with anticipation, like a little boy unwrapping the gift he had always wanted: and it was all he could've hoped it would be, all he had remembered it to be. A flawless, pale expanse of soft skin, marred only by two perfect, delectable nipples, was enough to make him moan as his own erection ached and pulsed against his pants in a sudden flare of desire. He pushed the shirt from Draco's thin shoulders and croaked, "How about moving to the trampoline?"
The padded trampoline was actually not that bouncy and it was only really used to protect Fred and George when working on jokes and stuff that required levitating and other floating and flying spells. Still, it was soft and blue and would serve their purposes nicely. Draco turned, with a seductive smile, and strutted to the mat, leaving Harry to trail after him, ogling a delicious ass and almost drooling. Then Draco sat on the mat and scooted backwards - Merlin, thank you for revealing to me the wonders of sexy scooting! let me be the material he scoots over! - towards its center. Harry dropped his new wand on the canvas, then dived next to him, eliciting a small bounce from the trampoline and an endearing chuckle from Draco. Harry quickly twisted around to straddle Draco's hips, rubbing together to drag groans from them both, then he bent over to nibble on a sinfully alluring nipple, causing Draco to arch into him, bringing their bodies closer together. After a moment, Harry sat up, so fascinated and so turned on by Draco's reaction that he used his rough fingers to pinch and roll the sensitive nubs. Draco cried out, and his hands shot out to grab Harry and pull him down onto him again - anything to stop the pleasure that was so intense that it was literally unbearable. "Did I hurt you?," Harry asked, mortified.
After a pause to regain his breath, Draco shook his head. "No. I. . . It was just too much." To reassure Harry, he kissed him and shifted his leg to bring it carefully up to Harry's groin, where it gently rocked against him, drawing out a long, low moan from Harry. But Harry's impatience again got the better of him, and after a moment, he convinced himself to depart the wonders of Draco's lips to hunt for other treasures.
He looked for a second deeply into Draco's eyes, his hands on the blonde's belt, making sure he was aware of what Harry was about to do. Finding no hesitance, he deftly unbuckled the belt and helped Draco wiggle out of elegant, expensive pants. His eyes suddenly hooded, falling upon the member that had haunted his dreams (though only the sweaty, erotic ones!), and he impulsively nuzzled its heat. "You are SO sexy. I love the way you never wear any underwear."
Draco laughed at him, then pushed him off onto the canvas next to him, so that he could take up a position between Harry's legs. With a wicked smile and a hot arch of his delicate eyebrow, he unbuckled Harry's belt and yanked his baggy pants off, lacing his fingers through his boxers to pull them off too. Harry's member throbbed from the tension of being naked, so close to the most attractive, tempting body he had ever known. Draco wasted no time taking Harry between sweet, heavenly lips and Harry bit the side of his cheek to stop himself from fucking the warm, wet mouth.
Draco experimented a little with his tongue and with rhythm, only having been forced to give oral sex a few times in his life (as both Voldemort and his father preferred to rape him in ways that would allow the power transfer), and he found it surprisingly enjoyable, making his lips tingle. Furthermore, he liked the control it gave him, absent as it had always been in his previous encounters with sex, and he wanted more of it, suddenly determined to lead. Harry watched the blond head bob up and down on his dick, until he could stand it no more, and he desperately tugged Draco up to him to kiss the lips that had tortured him so. He devoured them hungrily, feeling their intensity more than the aching in his loins. Shit, I love you.
Uh oh, swollen sexy lips lifted from his. "Did I just say that out loud?"
Draco looked embarrassed, but pleased. "I'm guessing you'd've left the shit part out if you meant to say it out loud."
Harry nodded, then professed seriously, "I do though. Love you."
Draco smiled and kissed him deeply. Then he straightened, perpendicular to Harry, and an awkward, slightly uncomfortable expression appeared on his face. Harry frowned in concern, and was about to inquire, then he notice a slender arm hidden behind the beautiful torso - he groaned and his head spun as he realized what Draco was doing. This, Draco had definitely done before, in preparation for nights of punishing torture.
Harry struggled to prop himself, and patted for his wand, using it to conjure a blob of lubricant, though always unable to tear his eyes from Draco's. Then he sat up and wrapped his arms around Draco, "Let me," he requested huskily.
Draco felt a distant thrill of fear, but he nodded down at him, gasping as a greased hand grasped his, winding their fingers together, following his middle finger to where it disappeared into his own body. Harry's slick fingers rubbed his ring, and Draco's eyes closed, breathlessness overcoming him, mostly from the intimacy of the act. Harry carefully slid his own finger in, side by side with Draco's, gliding them in and out together, before pulling Draco's finger out and replacing it with his two of his own fingers and pushing them deeper. Draco's voice hitched, then Harry's fingers changed their angle, causing Draco's body to explode with pleasure, and his legs gave out underneath him, collapsing him on top of Harry. "Harry," Draco whispered, voice thick with desire and love and amazement.
Then Harry tore him out of his haze with his own words, "Draco. I want you inside me." Draco tensed and rolled off of Harry and his fantastic fingers to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. Harry propped himself on an elbow and looked at him apprehensively. "What's wrong?"
Draco was silent and expressionless for a long moment, increasingly upsetting the Gryffindor. Finally he sighed and tilted his face to make eye contact. "I don't want to hurt you like that Harry." He hadn't wanted that kind of control.
"That's just it. It's not supposed to hurt, and I trust you not to hurt me. I love you, and I want to give this to you. I want to do this. Please, trust me," he pleaded, stroking wisps of hair from Draco's face; and Draco could not deny him.
Draco smiled weakly before rolling over and pushing Harry onto his back. "Okay, you bad boy, you ask, I deliver," he joked, trying to uplift the cloud of seriousness that they had become enveloped in. Then he focused on the task at hand, trying to repress his nervousness: he had certainly never done this before. He lightly caressed Harry's inner thighs, gradually moving his way up, bending Harry's knees and spreading his legs, and listening as Harry's breathing increased in anticipation.
Draco grappled for Harry's wand, repeating the earlier spell. Harry smiled encouragingly and Draco tried to smile back, but his hands were trembling. Finally, he decided that concentrating wasn't helping and he took Harry's erection back in his mouth, taking both their minds off the fact that Draco's hand had wedged itself between Harry cheeks and was messaging the tight entrance there.
When the guardian ring finally relaxed, Draco eased two fingers in, the way he had always done for himself, still bobbing erratically on Harry's arousal. Harry began panting breathily and arched his hips up. Draco gently stretched and kneaded the passage, finally detaching his mouth from Harry, and finally really getting caught up in the arrangement. He looked up at Harry's scarlet tinted, open mouthed face over the flushed, rock hard cock and a Cheshire grin extended to almost the entire width of Draco's face. "Ready?," he purred, licking his swollen lips.
Harry nodded. There had been a twinge of pain when Draco's slender fingers had entered him, but there was an oddly satisfying and completely feeling. He supposed it could have felt more pleasurable, but he forgave Draco for not knowing any better, for not knowing how to find his sensitive inner spot. He still wanted to be taken, and, indeed, he ached for Draco, to be filled until he was entirely full, to be united with his whole world. Draco lifted one of Harry's legs up over his shoulder, and used his other hand to spread Harry's other leg far to the side. Then he dipped a gentle finger back into Harry, retrieving some lube and slicking up his own member.
"Last chance to back out," Draco whispered, voice thick with lust.
"Please," Harry groaned, feeling exposed and vulnerable and wanting nothing more than to be filled by Draco, filled with Draco. "Relax, my love," the blonde said, gently parting his cheeks, positioning himself against Harry's quivering opening, then delicately pushing himself into the athletic body.
"Nnnuh," Harry groaned. "Huh," Draco gasped.
When he had inched in all the way to the hilt, Draco desperately tried to clear his blasted mind enough to speak - though Harry was looking quite dazed himself. . . and rather cross eyed. "Harry. . . are you alright?"
There was pain, but it was minor, and Harry was feeling gloriously whole and he wouldn't trade the sense of completion for all the world. In fact, there was a desperate ache for movement, and the ache grew until it burned. He gripped Draco's strong arms. "Oh, God, Draco, move."
With a rush of relief, Draco slowly pulled out, then tenderly pushed back in, at a new angle that suddenly made stars explode in Harry's mind. His vision blurred as all brain power focused on the amazing sensations that were shooting through him. Steadily, Draco increased his pace, regularly hitting Harry's sensitive spot, his own mind spinning with the perfect tightness that surrounded him, gripping him, so so close to taking him over the edge. "God. Merlin. Harder, please, harder."
The words barely registered, but his subconscious was able to respond anyway, and pushed in faster, with more force, and Harry bucked into him, and there was nothing in the world except the rhythm, the heavenly, intoxicating, amazing, incredible, mind blowing rhythm. Wait, no, there was something else, something he had forgotten. . . after a confused moment, Draco remembered and he grasped Harry's arousal He began to pump awkwardly (masturbation and hand jobs had never been his forte), but the unbearable pleasure that seemed to emanate from Draco's fingers more than compensated. "OH GOD DRACO!"
An unbelievable climax overwhelmed Harry, spurting cum up Draco's chest, his whole body flooding with pleasure, and forcing his reflexes to clamp down around Draco. "HARRY!," Draco cried, straining, then emptying himself into Harry. Then collapsing onto him.
After several long minutes, Draco lifted himself and looked deeply into Harry's sleepy emerald eyes. "I'm going to pull out now, okay, my love?"
Harry nodded slightly, lethargically, and Darco carefully extracted himself, leaving Harry empty, but filled with the brilliance and emotion in the oceanic eyes. Draco curled up beside Harry, facing him and stroking the light down on his cheek. "Are you alright?"
Harry smiled contently and reassuringly. He was exhausted, but, truly, he had never been so alright in his life, and he pulled Draco a little closer. "I've never been better."
"Well, God Draco tends to do that," Draco teased.
Harry smiled again, and mumbled, "Yes, he does," before burying his face into Draco's sweaty shoulder; but he did not fall asleep before hearing Draco's whispered words. "I love you, Harry."
*
THE END
XXXXX
What did you think? Did I do a good job? Any confusing or awkward plot points? Anything left unresolved? If you REALLY want, I may consider an epilogue to settle any unresolved plot points. I hope you enjoyed (I certainly did). I also hope that you won't forget to review now that I have finished.
Readers: Spread the love, share the love, show the love. Review.
Chapter 15: Two Encounters of Different Natures
"You're the one I need, my real life has just begun. 'Cause there's nothing like your smile made of sun. In a world full of strangers, you're the one I know."
- Shakira, The One
A few more days passed, with Hermione's presence bringing a semblance of normality, until it was the evening before Hogwarts was due to reopen - ten days since the Great Fall (term courtesy of Daily Prophet). There was last minute packing, some minor drinking, and, finally, a pervading good humor. Ginny and the trio were all excited to be going back to Hogwarts, and it symbolized a return to routine - or, at least, an end to the horrible chaos of the war (and the twins were thrilled to be finally getting their apartment back). Even Harry was finally allowing himself to smile and laugh, his friends tireless efforts to cheer him up finally beginning to work.
Little note was made of the fact that there was a confident knocking on the door, and Ron went to answer it.
"Malfoy!" In the other room, Harry felt his heart jump into his throat and, after a frozen pause to recover from the shock, he sprinted to the door, the other three Weasleys and Hermione close on his heals.
He froze again at seeing Draco, standing there in the doorway, his mind practically shutting down, and he had to remind himself to even breath. Draco was looking stunning, as usual, but better somehow, healthier, stronger. His blond hair glowed, tucked neatly behind delicate ears; his eyes sparkled like the ocean; and the hesitant and uncertain expression on his face ballooned into a handsome, genuine smile upon seeing Harry. Harry absolutely could not believe his eyes.
"Granger. Weasleys four, . . . Potter," a smooth voice projected, eyes never leaving Harry's. Harry was stunned: his vision spoke.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?," Ron asked nastily, aggressively. He really hated the arrogant, underhanded Slytherin, and was highly displeased to find his odious presence on his own doorstep. "Changing sides now that your side has obviously lost, you snake? How does that feel, by the way? Or is it just that you can't you see when you're not wanted?"
Draco looked taken aback, though in retrospect, he knew he shouldn't have been. He had just been. . . so eager to find Harry that he hadn't fully appreciated the implications of the fact Harry was staying with the Weasley twins (a fact revealed by the locating spell he had done on his mother's collar). He looked from Ron to the hostile faces of his siblings, to the guarded face of Granger (who had firmly decided to let Harry deal with Draco), then to Harry's blank, expressionless one. Suddenly, he didn't feel so sure of himself. Maybe he shouldn't have come. He could've waited to see Harry at Hogwarts the next day, but he hadn't wanted him to discover it that way. He hadn't wanted to wait.
After an awkward and unfriendly silence in which Draco failed to respond to Ron's barb, honestly not knowing what to say, Hermione finally spoke, figuring she'd buy Harry a couple of seconds to come to grips with reality. "How did you survive?"
Draco smiled nervously, feeling on very uncertain footing and not knowing how much everyone knew. "The classic way. . . magic," he managed to reply smoothly, though his smile would have given him away to an astute observer.
"How did you do it?," Harry asked bluntly, finally finding his tongue - but just barely. His mind was still having difficulty grasping more than the basic thoughts and inconsistencies.
Now Draco was growing very uncomfortable, very uneasy, and a little frightened. He got the distinct impression that he had made a bad decision in coming here, that he didn't belong here. Why was Harry asking him these questions in front of everyone? "Same answer as before, I'd say," Draco finally replied.
Another awkward silence ensued, but when George began tapping his foot, Ron asked unkindly, "Why are you here again, Malfoy?"
Draco's eyes pleaded with Harry, but Harry was still too numb to react. His mind was like a broken record: he's alive, he's alive, he's alive. Finally, Draco had had enough of the public humiliation - never something he had ever had much tolerance for. He beat himself up enough as it was, but his pride would not allow others to do so too. He wanted to yell at Harry, and to yell at his friends that he was here for Harry, but he loved Harry too much and had been a dirty secret for too long to expose him in front of those who mattered to him.
Draco's stomach dropped to his feet and he almost gagged. How could he have been so happy, so excited just an hour ago? How could he have been so wrong? He couldn't hate Harry though, not really, just himself. It was his fault for hoping, it always was, he did do it to himself, he hurt himself. How could he think that things would be different, just because his tormentors were dead? If he did it to himself, then the death of others would never change anything. What had he been thinking, if at all? Of course Harry would never be able to acknowledge him publicly, could not associate with him, not even as a friendly acquaintance. Draco was scum, a whore, an embarrassment, a dirty secret. He had made a horrible, horrible mistake, and he was filled with such self hatred that he was sure he would do something violent to himself as soon as he had escaped from these vultures. Draco backed away from the door, with an uncharacteristic lack of grace, eyes wide like a rabbit's before a pack of wolves. "Actually, I think I've made a terrible mistake. I'll just be going now."
"You do that," Fred growled.
NO! Harry's mind finally kicked in, now that he was confronted with the terrifying possibility of losing Draco, before his mind had even had the chance to come to terms with the fact that he was still alive. NO! He would never let his baby, his happiness, his love, out of his sight again. "NO!," Harry shouted, finally managing to work his vocal cords. Then he forced his feet to work and he pushed forward, past the Weasleys, to Draco and overwhelmed him in a tight embrace, crushing them together, vanishing any distance between them. His hand made its way up to stroke soft hair and he showered the surprised face with hyper kisses. "Draco, Draco, Draco. You're alive! I can't believe you're alive!" Then he giggled somewhat hysterically.
The Weasleys were staring at the two of them with gaping mouths. Hermione wasn't quite as shocked, but even she was surprised, though this certainly solved some questions she had. Ron suddenly gagged, Ginny giggled nervously, and both twins released an interested grunt: Harry was passionately kissing Draco - desperately and adoringly, his tongue lapping at lips and teeth.
When they finally broke apart, Draco smiled shyly at Harry, who gazed intimately into his eyes, filled with wonder. "Really," he whispered. "What happened to you?"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!," Ron shouted, forcing the two lovers to jerk their faces towards him. Draco wanted nothing more that to bury into Harry's shoulder and forget his horrible friends, but he forced himself to maintain his dignity and stared challengingly at Ron, waiting to see how Harry wanted to play it: Draco was a good actor.
Awkwardly, Harry looked at Draco, then back at Ron and the rest, then he gripped Draco tighter. "Uh, well, to make a long story short, uh, Draco helped me kill Voldemort and he saved my life. More than once, in fact. And he's responsible for totaling the Ministry, though I'm still not sure how he did that. I thought he was dead, actually." Seeing the outrage and disbelief written on the four freckled faces (Hermione was just looking interested), Harry continued, "I. . . I beg you, give him a chance. I'm, uh, in love with him."
Harry was blushing the deepest shade of crimson any of his friends had ever seen him sport, but Harry was not a coward and he wouldn't hurt Draco by denying the truth; and the expression on Draco's face was more than enough to convince him of the rightness of his declaration: the beautiful blonde was looking at Harry with an expression of absolute, naked devotion and idolization. Harry had told his friends! Harry. . . was serious about him then, right? He had never not been a dirty secret, and the rush of hope and love was enough to make him feel faint, and his knees trembled. (In the background, Ron asked skeptically, "He's Draco now?!")
Harry looked deeply into Draco's eyes, strong arms supporting him, their lips mere centimeters apart. "You do love me, don't you?," he asked, his voice betraying some uncertainty.
"Of course," Draco gushed, leaning in for another mind blowing kiss. Harry felt his body eagerly respond to the perfect, sexy form in his arms and he buried his face into the flawless neck, inhaling the comforting, familiar, appealing smell of Draco.
"Oh, Merlin. I definitely need to go sit down," Ron interrupted, sounding appalled, and he retreated from the hallway.
"Me too," Ginny squeaked, quickly following him.
Harry disregarded them, focusing on communicating his love and happiness through his eyes, wanting to be nothing more than to be alone with his angel. Finally, he felt too much to be content with this visual exchange and he asked, "George, Fred, could I please talk to Draco privately, in one of your rooms? Please. I promise I'll explain, but right now, I really need to talk to him. . . alone. Please."
The tone of his voice was practically begging, and neither twin could hide the mischievous grins that came to their faces. Both appreciated that fact Draco was one of the sexiest beings, male or female, or even Veela, that either of them had ever seen (indeed, most people could say this of Draco), and there was no doubt in their minds that Harry wanted to do more than talk. They were somewhat dubious and suspicious about the fact that it was Draco Malfoy, but they trusted Harry explicitly and they were not so easy to shock or offend as either Ron or Ginny. Both twins knew people who had had things for the blond menace.
After a brief, confirming glance at George, Fred agreed, a faint smirk on his face. "Okay, why don't you two take the workshop downstairs?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, questioningly, but Harry ignored her in favor of ushering Draco to the staircase. "Thanks. I promise I'll explain."
"Take your time," George called after them snarkily.
Harry latched the door behind them, then turned to gaze hungrily at Draco, who was curiously and cautiously poking around the chaotic workshop. "Wow. This is quite an arrangement they have here." Experimentally testing the sturdiness of what appeared to be a padded trampoline, Draco turned around and arched a sexy eyebrow at him.
"Yes. It is. . . So what happened to you? How'd you do it? How'd you survive?" He wanted nothing more than to devour the vision in front of him, but business first.
Nervously, Draco looked at the ground, then finally brought his eyes up to Harry's.
"There's this obscure ancient spell that creates a massive sphere of destructive energy. The only catch is that the caster must sacrifice himself and the life of his greatest enemy."
"Your father." So it had been the rumored hate spell.
"Yes. I ripped his throat out with my teeth." Draco didn't really know why he told Harry that, only that he had wanted to. He didn't know how to feel about his actions (guilty? ashamed? indifferent?) and he wanted Harry to judge, to tell him how to feel.
But Harry didn't judge, just looking a bit surprised; love, after all, is blind. "Did he hurt you?," he asked tightly, feeling as though someone was squeezing his throat.
"No more than usual," Draco responded, trying to sound flippant.
Harry spared no time crossing the room to him and gathering the thin figure in his arms. "I'm sorry," he professed supportively, nuzzling the pale neck and hair. He squeezed him, for his own comfort, hating the way his knowledge of Draco's suffering made him feel.
"Don't be," Draco replied, grateful to be back in Harry's arms.
Harry pulled back slightly to look Draco in the eyes. "How'd you survive?"
"I almost didn't. I shouldn't have. The spell drained me of all life and left me for dead, the way it's supposed to, with the Ministry collapsing all around me. I had only a matter of seconds. But my mother was there, right? You saw her. I'd told her to protect herself by staying in this protective bubble, but she came out of it once the spell had worked its destruction, killing everyone. Because the building was crumbling, the protective enchantments on the place were no longer working, and so my mother was able to apparate me out to safety, where she healed me."
"Healed you?"
"She has latent powers, some not unlike mine. I'm actually not sure what she did to me, and she's not coherent to tell me. I guess my mother is just not a person that one can ever really know. But she saved me. Maybe she is more human than I have ever given her credit for."
There was a pensive moment of silence before Draco continued, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. In truth, I only woke up a few days ago, finding myself at the Snape Manor, and then I didn't want to show up looking like the living dead."
"Draco," Harry replied joked. "I would have been thrilled with anything that wasn't the dead dead."
Draco smiled, though it faded after a moment. "What about tomorrow at Hogwarts? Are you sure telling your friends was a good idea?"
"I don't want to hide, do you? Don't you think we've been hiding for long enough? As for my friends, they'll learn to deal. They're good people and they love me. Who knows, someday they may even be your friends," Harry teased.
"Ick. Granger I don't mind, but the Weasel?," Draco replied with mock disgust, secretly pleased to no end by Harry's words.
"Weasel, ferret - you're practically family." Harry's grin was so big that his cheek muscles hurt, and Draco was looking lightly appalled.
"Don't EVER say that to me again."
Harry smiled warmly at Draco, who returned the smile, and Harry was struck by how much more alive Draco was when he was being real. "I don't want you to be anyone but yourself ever again," he whispered softly, deeply, causing a shiver to run up Draco's spine. Harry lightly brushed his lips against Draco's, one hand tracing the delicate, sensitive ridges of Draco's ear, and when Harry's other hand stroked the bony knobs of his spine, under his shirt, Draco's breathing suddenly altered and his eyelids drooped, his mind trying to give in to the pleasant fuzziness.
[(MANDITORY WARNING: GRAPHIC SLASHY SEX IS ABOUT TO ENSUE!)]
The shorter, broader boy rubbed his body tantalizingly against Draco and Draco moaned, his mouth suddenly dry, "Har-ry.
Harry looked into his dilated pupils: it would be so easy to seduce Draco into great sex, but what did the blonde want? It was not like their last arrangement had been entered into willingly, despite the greatness had. "Draco," he began huskily, trying to restrain himself, though his desire was almost overpowering. He had never wanted anything as he wanted Draco - not just now, not just for sex, but in general, and forever. "Draco, what do you want? Now, I mean."
Draco opened his eyes, breathing heavily. "I don't want you to stop, Harry, if that's what you're asking. You make me feel. . . better than I have ever felt in my life. I don't know what I want, but I want you to help me find out."
It was as much encouragement as Harry needed, and he claimed Draco's lips in a heated kiss, to which Draco responded enthusiastically. Draco's hands rested lightly on his hips, hesitantly holding Harry close to him, and Harry's hands were all over the place - ghosting and rubbing over his back, over ribs and hips and shoulder blades. When they finally broke their kiss, they were both panting. Harry freed himself from Draco's embrace and eagerly pulled his T-shirt off and toed off his shoes. Draco took a longer time, carefully untying his shoes, then beginning to meticulously unbutton his shirt. But Harry was impatient, and he closed the distance between them, taking over Draco's nervous struggle with his buttons. Then he slowly parted the shirt, trembling with anticipation, like a little boy unwrapping the gift he had always wanted: and it was all he could've hoped it would be, all he had remembered it to be. A flawless, pale expanse of soft skin, marred only by two perfect, delectable nipples, was enough to make him moan as his own erection ached and pulsed against his pants in a sudden flare of desire. He pushed the shirt from Draco's thin shoulders and croaked, "How about moving to the trampoline?"
The padded trampoline was actually not that bouncy and it was only really used to protect Fred and George when working on jokes and stuff that required levitating and other floating and flying spells. Still, it was soft and blue and would serve their purposes nicely. Draco turned, with a seductive smile, and strutted to the mat, leaving Harry to trail after him, ogling a delicious ass and almost drooling. Then Draco sat on the mat and scooted backwards - Merlin, thank you for revealing to me the wonders of sexy scooting! let me be the material he scoots over! - towards its center. Harry dropped his new wand on the canvas, then dived next to him, eliciting a small bounce from the trampoline and an endearing chuckle from Draco. Harry quickly twisted around to straddle Draco's hips, rubbing together to drag groans from them both, then he bent over to nibble on a sinfully alluring nipple, causing Draco to arch into him, bringing their bodies closer together. After a moment, Harry sat up, so fascinated and so turned on by Draco's reaction that he used his rough fingers to pinch and roll the sensitive nubs. Draco cried out, and his hands shot out to grab Harry and pull him down onto him again - anything to stop the pleasure that was so intense that it was literally unbearable. "Did I hurt you?," Harry asked, mortified.
After a pause to regain his breath, Draco shook his head. "No. I. . . It was just too much." To reassure Harry, he kissed him and shifted his leg to bring it carefully up to Harry's groin, where it gently rocked against him, drawing out a long, low moan from Harry. But Harry's impatience again got the better of him, and after a moment, he convinced himself to depart the wonders of Draco's lips to hunt for other treasures.
He looked for a second deeply into Draco's eyes, his hands on the blonde's belt, making sure he was aware of what Harry was about to do. Finding no hesitance, he deftly unbuckled the belt and helped Draco wiggle out of elegant, expensive pants. His eyes suddenly hooded, falling upon the member that had haunted his dreams (though only the sweaty, erotic ones!), and he impulsively nuzzled its heat. "You are SO sexy. I love the way you never wear any underwear."
Draco laughed at him, then pushed him off onto the canvas next to him, so that he could take up a position between Harry's legs. With a wicked smile and a hot arch of his delicate eyebrow, he unbuckled Harry's belt and yanked his baggy pants off, lacing his fingers through his boxers to pull them off too. Harry's member throbbed from the tension of being naked, so close to the most attractive, tempting body he had ever known. Draco wasted no time taking Harry between sweet, heavenly lips and Harry bit the side of his cheek to stop himself from fucking the warm, wet mouth.
Draco experimented a little with his tongue and with rhythm, only having been forced to give oral sex a few times in his life (as both Voldemort and his father preferred to rape him in ways that would allow the power transfer), and he found it surprisingly enjoyable, making his lips tingle. Furthermore, he liked the control it gave him, absent as it had always been in his previous encounters with sex, and he wanted more of it, suddenly determined to lead. Harry watched the blond head bob up and down on his dick, until he could stand it no more, and he desperately tugged Draco up to him to kiss the lips that had tortured him so. He devoured them hungrily, feeling their intensity more than the aching in his loins. Shit, I love you.
Uh oh, swollen sexy lips lifted from his. "Did I just say that out loud?"
Draco looked embarrassed, but pleased. "I'm guessing you'd've left the shit part out if you meant to say it out loud."
Harry nodded, then professed seriously, "I do though. Love you."
Draco smiled and kissed him deeply. Then he straightened, perpendicular to Harry, and an awkward, slightly uncomfortable expression appeared on his face. Harry frowned in concern, and was about to inquire, then he notice a slender arm hidden behind the beautiful torso - he groaned and his head spun as he realized what Draco was doing. This, Draco had definitely done before, in preparation for nights of punishing torture.
Harry struggled to prop himself, and patted for his wand, using it to conjure a blob of lubricant, though always unable to tear his eyes from Draco's. Then he sat up and wrapped his arms around Draco, "Let me," he requested huskily.
Draco felt a distant thrill of fear, but he nodded down at him, gasping as a greased hand grasped his, winding their fingers together, following his middle finger to where it disappeared into his own body. Harry's slick fingers rubbed his ring, and Draco's eyes closed, breathlessness overcoming him, mostly from the intimacy of the act. Harry carefully slid his own finger in, side by side with Draco's, gliding them in and out together, before pulling Draco's finger out and replacing it with his two of his own fingers and pushing them deeper. Draco's voice hitched, then Harry's fingers changed their angle, causing Draco's body to explode with pleasure, and his legs gave out underneath him, collapsing him on top of Harry. "Harry," Draco whispered, voice thick with desire and love and amazement.
Then Harry tore him out of his haze with his own words, "Draco. I want you inside me." Draco tensed and rolled off of Harry and his fantastic fingers to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. Harry propped himself on an elbow and looked at him apprehensively. "What's wrong?"
Draco was silent and expressionless for a long moment, increasingly upsetting the Gryffindor. Finally he sighed and tilted his face to make eye contact. "I don't want to hurt you like that Harry." He hadn't wanted that kind of control.
"That's just it. It's not supposed to hurt, and I trust you not to hurt me. I love you, and I want to give this to you. I want to do this. Please, trust me," he pleaded, stroking wisps of hair from Draco's face; and Draco could not deny him.
Draco smiled weakly before rolling over and pushing Harry onto his back. "Okay, you bad boy, you ask, I deliver," he joked, trying to uplift the cloud of seriousness that they had become enveloped in. Then he focused on the task at hand, trying to repress his nervousness: he had certainly never done this before. He lightly caressed Harry's inner thighs, gradually moving his way up, bending Harry's knees and spreading his legs, and listening as Harry's breathing increased in anticipation.
Draco grappled for Harry's wand, repeating the earlier spell. Harry smiled encouragingly and Draco tried to smile back, but his hands were trembling. Finally, he decided that concentrating wasn't helping and he took Harry's erection back in his mouth, taking both their minds off the fact that Draco's hand had wedged itself between Harry cheeks and was messaging the tight entrance there.
When the guardian ring finally relaxed, Draco eased two fingers in, the way he had always done for himself, still bobbing erratically on Harry's arousal. Harry began panting breathily and arched his hips up. Draco gently stretched and kneaded the passage, finally detaching his mouth from Harry, and finally really getting caught up in the arrangement. He looked up at Harry's scarlet tinted, open mouthed face over the flushed, rock hard cock and a Cheshire grin extended to almost the entire width of Draco's face. "Ready?," he purred, licking his swollen lips.
Harry nodded. There had been a twinge of pain when Draco's slender fingers had entered him, but there was an oddly satisfying and completely feeling. He supposed it could have felt more pleasurable, but he forgave Draco for not knowing any better, for not knowing how to find his sensitive inner spot. He still wanted to be taken, and, indeed, he ached for Draco, to be filled until he was entirely full, to be united with his whole world. Draco lifted one of Harry's legs up over his shoulder, and used his other hand to spread Harry's other leg far to the side. Then he dipped a gentle finger back into Harry, retrieving some lube and slicking up his own member.
"Last chance to back out," Draco whispered, voice thick with lust.
"Please," Harry groaned, feeling exposed and vulnerable and wanting nothing more than to be filled by Draco, filled with Draco. "Relax, my love," the blonde said, gently parting his cheeks, positioning himself against Harry's quivering opening, then delicately pushing himself into the athletic body.
"Nnnuh," Harry groaned. "Huh," Draco gasped.
When he had inched in all the way to the hilt, Draco desperately tried to clear his blasted mind enough to speak - though Harry was looking quite dazed himself. . . and rather cross eyed. "Harry. . . are you alright?"
There was pain, but it was minor, and Harry was feeling gloriously whole and he wouldn't trade the sense of completion for all the world. In fact, there was a desperate ache for movement, and the ache grew until it burned. He gripped Draco's strong arms. "Oh, God, Draco, move."
With a rush of relief, Draco slowly pulled out, then tenderly pushed back in, at a new angle that suddenly made stars explode in Harry's mind. His vision blurred as all brain power focused on the amazing sensations that were shooting through him. Steadily, Draco increased his pace, regularly hitting Harry's sensitive spot, his own mind spinning with the perfect tightness that surrounded him, gripping him, so so close to taking him over the edge. "God. Merlin. Harder, please, harder."
The words barely registered, but his subconscious was able to respond anyway, and pushed in faster, with more force, and Harry bucked into him, and there was nothing in the world except the rhythm, the heavenly, intoxicating, amazing, incredible, mind blowing rhythm. Wait, no, there was something else, something he had forgotten. . . after a confused moment, Draco remembered and he grasped Harry's arousal He began to pump awkwardly (masturbation and hand jobs had never been his forte), but the unbearable pleasure that seemed to emanate from Draco's fingers more than compensated. "OH GOD DRACO!"
An unbelievable climax overwhelmed Harry, spurting cum up Draco's chest, his whole body flooding with pleasure, and forcing his reflexes to clamp down around Draco. "HARRY!," Draco cried, straining, then emptying himself into Harry. Then collapsing onto him.
After several long minutes, Draco lifted himself and looked deeply into Harry's sleepy emerald eyes. "I'm going to pull out now, okay, my love?"
Harry nodded slightly, lethargically, and Darco carefully extracted himself, leaving Harry empty, but filled with the brilliance and emotion in the oceanic eyes. Draco curled up beside Harry, facing him and stroking the light down on his cheek. "Are you alright?"
Harry smiled contently and reassuringly. He was exhausted, but, truly, he had never been so alright in his life, and he pulled Draco a little closer. "I've never been better."
"Well, God Draco tends to do that," Draco teased.
Harry smiled again, and mumbled, "Yes, he does," before burying his face into Draco's sweaty shoulder; but he did not fall asleep before hearing Draco's whispered words. "I love you, Harry."
*
THE END
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What did you think? Did I do a good job? Any confusing or awkward plot points? Anything left unresolved? If you REALLY want, I may consider an epilogue to settle any unresolved plot points. I hope you enjoyed (I certainly did). I also hope that you won't forget to review now that I have finished.