Notes: I promised this chapter would be longer but even I didn't expect it to be over triple the word count of the other chapters! There is of course a slight modification to the lyrics, we couldn't have the words 'she' and 'her' now could we? And I know I said this would be from Draco's p.o.v. but I've actually changed the intented plot line for the entire fic so we are still in Harry's point of view.
Warning: slash of rather (ok very) graphic nature, you can of course skip it but well ...why would you ; ) oh and some adult language.
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"He is smiling like heaven is down on earth
Sun is shining so bright on him
And all his wishes have finally come true
And his heart is weeping.
This happiness is killing him."
'Right here in my arms'
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There is nothing I can do to stop the small smile that creeps across my face now I know he is addicted. My smile widens: in a few hours I can feel him on me again. Frantic, kissing, biting, thrusting, moaning. This train of thought has crept upon me time and again today and it has done me no favours.
I sit staring impassively at my notes, attempting to take in any of the information what so ever but to no avail. Any time my brain even begins processing the information on some inconsequential Wizarding battle my focus shifts.
I can still feel Draco's breath on my face. My wrist still feels like it is burning from where he grabbed me. My body stirs in a way that is highly inappropriate for a History of Magic classroom as I recollect his sharp bite to my ear.
By some twist of fate the class begins packing up, providing me with a distraction. I stand, stuffing quills, parchment and books into my bag as my classmates battle to get away from the heavy, boredom laced atmosphere of the room.
I catch up with Ron and Hermione just outside the class and I lag behind a little as we walk up to Gryffindor tower. I'm excluded, it used to hurt and I will freely admit that but it is like they say: 'Two is company, three's a crowd.'
Now, however, there is something else consuming my thoughts other than the onset of loneliness at the gradual loss of my best friends. Before and during the war, people needed me, everyone needed me. With the prophecy fulfilled I have no use any more. This isn't a bad thing.
No longer am I manipulated and the feeling is liberating. I can be human again as opposed to an instrument of war. With that came a sudden emptiness, Voldemort was gone, all links to my parents had been severed and Hermione and Ron had paired off: it was blatantly obvious that no one needed me.
Things change though. Draco needs me. He denies it but I can feel it. The desperation of his actions when we meet is so apparent he may as well be screaming for me. Even in the pitch black of the night I can see the way his silver eyes darken with lust and desire.
Lost in my musings I don't notice that I've followed the crowds into the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione drop onto one of the couches together but I just keep on walking. They don't even notice. I suppose love will do that to a person.
I ascend the stairs to the dormitory slowly, hand trailing up the varnished oak banister. I do not feel the wood. Instead, I feel Draco's skin, unnaturally soft beneath my finger tips and so pale it almost glows in the dark.
Pushing the door open I feel my body stirring once more at the thought of being pressed against him in a few hours time. I drop my bag to the floor beside my bed and fall heavily onto the mattress. I stretch my arms above my head, eyes tracing patterns in the weavings of the canopy above my bed in yet another futile attempt to quell my desires.
I run through anything and everything: quidditch strategies, dates of Goblin rebellions, Transfiguration notes, even stooping as low as potions ingredients but my body stays persistent. I sigh, running a hand down my chest to stroke myself firmly through my robes and trousers.
A quiet moan escapes my lips as I speed up my actions. I bite down on my lip to silence myself but in my head I am shouting the same things over and over.
Draco ...oh gods Draco ...yes ...Draco ...Draco.
It doesn't take long for my release, my hips lifting from the bed as I ride out my climax. I lie still, breath coming in shallow pants and I can feel a thin layer of sweat on my top lip and forehead. I sit up slowly, feeling a little light headed, as I fumble in my pocket for my wand. With a wave and a muttered word the unpleasant stickiness inside my boxers dispels.
I swing my feet round to the floor, getting to my feet gradually to avoid worsening my dizziness. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror: my cheeks are flushed pink and my hair is sticking up worse than usual. I should stay up here a little longer, at least until the flush dissipates but the sooner I go to dinner the quicker eleven o'clock will come. Keep busy: pass time is what I've told myself all day.
When I reach the hall I hear the familiar buzz of chatting voices. I make my way up Gryffindor table, deliberately walking between it and the Slytherin table. I see Draco look my way briefly, one blond eyebrow rising for a moment as he catches my appearance. He's seen me post-orgasm, he knows exactly what I was doing before I got here.
I take a seat between Neville and Seamus, across from Ron and Hermione, purposely sitting with my back to Draco. It is easier than avoiding staring.
Dinner goes unbearably slow, I join in conversation every so often. Neville talks animatedly about the intricacies involved in caring for the plants in his NEWT Herbology and I nod along. Ron and Seamus discuss the quidditch season so far and I try desperately not to drift into another blond Slytherin centred fantasy.
An hour and a half passes and I finally give up on eating and get up from the table. My original plan is to pass the next five hours writing my essay on the theory, history and uses of the Flame Freezing Charm. As I walk through the entrance hall, however, I feel the cool evening breeze blowing in and opt to do some laps on my broom instead.
I reach the pitch and make my way to the broom shed. As one of the four quidditch team captains I have my own key to the shed meaning I am breaking no rules as I bring out my Firebolt.
I unfasten my robes, shrugging them from my shoulders and they fall into a black heap on the grass. I mount my broom, air rushing through my hair and over my face as I fly upwards to the goal posts at the left end of the pitch.
I fly through the hoop, turning sharply to face the other way then speeding to the opposite end. The setting sun casts long pink and orange rays over the stadium, illuminating the stands. Before I reach the other posts I point my broom downwards in a sharp dive.
Wind pushes my hair from my face, fixing my t-shirt against my skin as the grass grows ever closer. I pull my broom level again, my feet skim the grass and I slow myself down. I curve round again, ascending as I do so.
The sun eventually disappears beneath the horizon and I am forced to dismount. I trudge back towards the shed to return my broom. Sweat trickles down my back, my mind feeling clearer than it has in days.
Gravel crunches under my feet as I make my way back up to the castle, wrapping my robes back around me in defence from the steadily chilling night air. I hear the clock in the courtyard chime, I count along.
Eight o'clock, three hours to go.
By the time I reach the portrait hole my mind has already wandered back to Draco. I wonder if I will make it to eleven without losing my mind.
Once in the common room I take a seat beside a window, gazing vacantly out over the grounds. Funny thing, desire. It drives even the most controlled people to foolish actions. I've thought and thought, over and over about what has happened between us. I come up with no answers, no solutions. Although it isn't surprising: I don't even know what I'm trying to get my head around. The desire that burns is strong and at times over powering. Lingering sensations of kisses ghost over lonely lips.
My every waking thought is consumed by the unshakeable urge to touch Draco then, when I fall asleep, my dreams are of his writhing naked form, begging me for more. Soon, I tell myself, soon.
With the slowness that it only ever has when you want it speed up, time passes by. I play a game of chess with Dean. I begin my charms essay. I read the Daily Prophet. I stare out the window. I grow noticeably irritable by the time half past ten rolls around, so much so that those Gryffindors left in the common room avoid even sitting near me.
I stare at the clock above the fireplace.
Ten thirty-five.
Ten thirty-seven.
Ten forty-two.
Ten forty-four.
I've reached my breaking point. I get up from the sofa, practically running up the stone staircase and into the dormitory. Neville's head jerks up from his book as the door swings open and hits off a wardrobe. I rummage around in my trunk, finally grasping the shimmering material of the invisibility cloak.
I am out of the dormitory as quickly as I entered, nearly slipping on the stairs in my haste. Once out of the common room I throw the cloak over me heading up the corridor towards my destination.
I reach a dead end where the Arithmancy classroom is and I look around for the old classroom that Draco designated. To my left there is a dark wood door, the handle is rusted and covered in dust. I push it open and it gives out a loud creak as it swings on its rusty hinges.
Before I go in a look back down the corridor, assuring myself that the noise didn't alert anyone. There are no signs of movement so I slip quietly inside.
The instant I am inside a jet of sparks fly over my head and the door slams shut. I then hear someone cast an Imperturbable Charm.
Out of the shadows I see Draco come forward, barely visible in the darkness of the room.
"Incendio." I hear him mutter. The torches on the walls ignite, casting an eerie glow over the old desk and chairs.
I pull off my cloak, tossing it onto a nearby desk. I stare across the room at him as he advances. His blond hair hangs over his face, silver eyes reflecting the orange glow of the flames. His robes are already open, a fitting black shirt and trousers that sit low on his hips visible beneath.
I feel like I should say something, do something. I'm hypnotised watching the subtle swing of his hips, his soft lips curving into a smirk. My breathing and heart rate increase. To be here after waiting all these hours doesn't feel real. I want to smile. I want to jump for joy. I want to take him on a desk but my body just will not move.
I watch his eyes sweep over me as he continues his slow walk. By the time he has looked down my body and back up he is walking towards me faster. His tongue flicks out ever so slightly to moisten his lips and finally my body moves.
I groan as I take three long strides forward, arms wrapping around his neck and our lips crash together. Draco throws his arms around my waist, moaning as my tongue runs over his lips.
His mouth opens, tongue meeting mine. We both moan this time and he pushes me backwards. As I think I may fall to the floor my back connects with the door, Draco's hips aligning with mine. I pull my mouth away from Draco's as he grinds into me and I moan louder.
His mouth attaches to my neck and without even a kiss, his lips part and teeth sink into my skin. He sucks on the skin as I thrust my hips to meet his again. He pulls off, breathing erratic as he moans into my ear.
I run my hands down his neck, palms pressing against his chest as I push him off harshly. He stumbles backwards, the small of his back colliding with a desk. The desk slides backwards a little, a high pitched scraping sounding through the room as I follow Draco, pressing my hips to his.
I kiss a path up his neck, tongue flicking over the flesh as I bring my hand between us to cup him through his black trousers.
"Oh gods ...oh Potter." He throws his head back and moans as I slowly squeeze him the same way I did to myself all those hours ago.
His hands fumble to get inside my robes. He pulls open the buttons of my jeans, hand plunging inside.
I buck my hips into his hand, groaning at the skin on skin contact. I bring my lips back to his, bending him backwards over the desk in a bruising kiss. I pull frantically at his belt buckle, finally pulling it open. My fingers work the buttons and zip until they are both undone and I reach inside.
I slide my hand past the elastic of his boxers, moving my fist in time with the thrust of our hips. His free hand grips my shoulder, fingers digging in and undoubtedly leaving bruises.
I twine my fingers through his hair, burying his face in my neck as the thrust of our hips and fists grow further more erratic. He licks at the tendons of my neck and I feel my climax building.
"Oh yes yes yes ...oh gods Malfoy, oh fuck Draco yes." He continues licking and biting my neck. I try to hold back but I feel my self-control wavering as his breath blows hot over my neck with his moans.
"Potter ...yes ...oh gods ...oh Potter." I speed up my movements, trying to bring his release before mine. With four whispered words in my ear I lose it.
"Come for me Potter..." I cry out as I climax, the sounds of my orgasm echoing off the stone walls of the classroom. Draco's long legs wrap around my waist as he sits on the desk, pulling my hips into him.
He thrusts upwards. Once. Twice. His hands slide around my back, fingers grasping at the material of my robes as he screams. He rides out his orgasm, face still buried in my neck.
He collapses backwards onto the desk and I fall down on top of him. Steadily my breathing returns to normal as beads of sweat roll down my face. I feel Draco's hands on my chest pushing me up.
I watch him shakily get to his feet, casting a cleaning charm and refastening his trousers. I do the same.
He releases the charms on the door as I pick up my invisibility cloak. Before he leaves the room he turns in the open doorway.
"This isn't anything Potter."
"Sure it isn't Malfoy." My tone is laced with sarcasm and anger flares on Draco's face. He steps forward, fist clenched at his side. I don't even duck when he swings.
His fist connects with my cheek, the pain stinging and causing my eyes to water. I stumble backwards from the force, looking up as he leaves the room.
"So I can expect to see you tomorrow?" He freezes in the doorway again and after an agonising moment he continues walking.
I run my hand over my cheek. He has been gone a fraction of a second. Already my body is hungering for more. Still he denies that he wants this. Still he tells me it means nothing.
I never knew nothing could feel so good.
