After all of the tears, the 'I'm sorrys' and the 'it's not your faults' had been properly distributed along with the liberal use of hugs and lingering looks, the two couples were left standing awkwardly looking at one another. The idea on everyone's mind was that this would be the end and that Harry Potter would be no more and that perhaps they should not sleep again.

"I'm going to bed." Draco turned and headed to their room. After another long hug and several more cheek kisses, Harry followed. He was surprised that Draco was still there, that he hadn't decided to go with a safer bet. But he meant what he said, evidently, that he believed in Harry and that was as good an endorsement as Harry thought he'd have outside of the return of Dumbledore.

Harry changed into his night clothes and slipped into bed next to Draco. He'd just closed his eyes when he felt the bed shift and looked up to see Draco straddling him, the other boy's weight on his thighs. He had a curious look in his eyes, almost predatory. Draco leered at him from head down to his tented pyjama pants.

This was a definite break in pattern from their current flirtations, but Harry was too scared to ask what prompted it. He just watched Draco. "I want you to put your mouth on it."

The room was dark so it was hard for Harry to tell if Draco was blushing as deeply as he was, although he did think he caught a crimson hue to the shadow. This may well have been his fantasy. "What do you mean... it?"

Draco scooted back a little and looked both ways as if someone might spy on them. Seeing Lolly on the nightstand facing them, he turned her around. Harry rolled his eyes. Draco unbuttoned his silk silver nightshirt and worked out of it. Harry watched in utter amazement as the skin was revealed to him.

After going for so long without seeing Draco's prick since the shower, having it live and in arm's reach was shocking. Harry slid his fingers over the front of Draco's chest, circling his nipples as Draco unfastened the string on his pyjama pants. He moved Harry's hands to his own buttons and comprehending the meaning, started to unbutton himself.

"You want me to put my mouth on your penis?" asked Harry to break the silence. Draco nodded and rolled over, completely starkers, onto his side and then on his back. Harry lit a candle and used his wand to light a couple more. He wanted to see Draco's ivory skin and the swell of his dark pink prick pressing sticky against his belly.

Harry wasn't sure about this business of putting his mouth on it. He wanted to ask if it was clean. Of course it was clean to an extent, because Malfoy was quite fussy hygienically, but was it clean enough to really put your mouth on, considering what came out of there... "Take a shower first."

"A shower?"

"I know you're familiar with the concept. I've seen you take five in one day."

"Not very romantic, Potter," Draco pointed out as he rolled out of bed and turned on the spigots. Harry followed, watching how Draco bent over, the flash of pink between his cheeks. That was, as far as he knew, where he was supposed to want to put it. If he got himself in there, he wouldn't be a virgin anymore. He wasn't entirely sure how the hand jobs counted; Ron didn't seem to really want to go over that with him. Or rather, he just didn't want to talk about it with Ron. Because if he asked Ron and Ron knew, that meant that Ron had probably had this conversation with someone over what he'd done with Hermione. That was like knowing your parents had sex. No. He'd figure it out on his own.

Draco returned wrapped in a towel and shivering, but he gamely crawled back under the covers and laid down spread eagle on the bed. "Why this, Draco? Why now?"

"Well, you're going to die soon, so might as well have a bit of fun before you go, right?"

That made sense, in a Draco sort of way. Harry was a bit disturbed with the notion that he might be learning to understand Draco's thought processes. No matter how obtuse and brutal they might be, they made a certain kind of sense... and yet..."Shouldn't I be the one with your mouth on it if I'm the one who is going to theoretically... you know... pack it in?"

"You're the one who's gay so you're the one who wants to put his mouth on it and besides," Draco said, fielding objections before they were given, "I'm the one who bothered to get clean. So, it will be my cock that's getting sucked." Matter settled; Draco went limp against the bed.

Still unsure about doing this, Harry crawled over and kissed over Draco's stomach a few awkward times as he tried to gather the courage. Draco pushed the top of his head down facing him nose to... cock. The point was clear. Draco wanted what he wanted and that was that. At least it was clean.

Harry stuck out his tongue and slid it nervously up his shaft. Draco groaned dramatically. If it was an act, it was a very good one, as Harry very much wanted to hear him make that noise again. So he stroked his tongue up Draco's prick, enjoying the soft whimpers it elicited. He continued to go on this way, lapping sometimes, pointing his tongue other times, trying to decide which way seemed to turn Draco on the most.

"Suck it, Harry."

"It won't fit." He picked up the base of Draco's prick to eye the tip. It was certainly narrow enough to go into his mouth but he wasn't sure about the length. The tip oozed a clear fluid and though Harry had seen this before on his own prick, he'd never tasted it. He flicked his tongue out and then made a face at its mellow-bitter taste. Not a brilliant taste, but tolerable. The test had caused Draco to flail against the sheets in a way that made Harry feel strangely powerful. After giving Draco a smirk that he was sure he couldn't ignore, Harry pulled the tip of his cock into his mouth.

He suckled it, tasting the wrinkled skin as his tongue prodded back the foreskin. Harry's fingers worked the exposed area at the base. Malfoy's cock was fascinating. It bent the same way Harry's did, only slightly less. It was quite straight, really. It was a bit longer, but Harry observed that his was much thicker, but they both felt of that velvety soft skin that moved so teasingly over the hardness beneath it.

Draco was whining and whimpering against the bed. His head thrashed back and forth and he grabbed the dark sheets to half pull over him. His hair was askew and his back arching as he begged for more. Harry tried to accommodate, pulling as much of Draco's cock as he could get into his mouth, which turned out to be a bit more than half. He opened his eyes to look up at Draco's tortured face. "More... more... oh Harry... I need... keep... don't stop, Harry."

Assuming he meant more of his cock into his mouth, Harry opened his mouth wider and tried to pull him deeper, but oddly, as he looked down at Draco's shaft and the curly bits of hair around his balls, he thought of that feather duster and where it went. He brought his finger to his mouth, deciding to test something. Draco wanted more, and there was only so much more cock that was going to get into Harry's mouth before he gagged. But this... could be... more... and if it coincidentally meant that perhaps he'd lose his virginity tonight, then... that was good for everyone. But mostly him. If he was going to die, then he should at least get that much, right?

He quietly thanked himself for having had Draco take a shower before this as this was going to be very, very dirty. He bobbed his head back on Draco's cock, tried to figure out what he was doing and then slowly started to worm his finger inside of Draco.

Draco stopped everything as Harry's finger invaded him. The inner muscles fought him a little, but when they did, Harry stopped. He continued to softly suck at Draco's waning erection. He pushed his finger further in, feeling the odd, humid dryness. He wished he'd had a better lubricant than spittle as it felt hot and compressed inside-- and oddly tubular. He pulled his finger back out and began to bob his head again. Draco relaxed and soon made cooing and begging noises again.

Pale hands splayed out over the sheets, he grabbed them hard and garbled something about coming that Harry didn't quite understand. Did he hear someone coming down the hall? Should they stop? He turned his head, letting the cock slide out of his mouth in time for Draco's release that pumped over his cheek and then onto his glasses in a warm, gloppy gush. Harry was mortified, but Draco appeared to be dealing with his own embarrassment as he'd pulled the sheets tightly over his head and gave no indication of coming out of hiding any time soon.

That left Harry to charm the sheets clean. He headed to the bathroom to wash up. Staring into the mirror, he thought about his life, however short it was going to be and how it all led up to the strange climax of sucking off Draco Malfoy and having to clean his come from his face. Hopefully he'd have a few more days to train up and actually lose his virginity, as he didn't think that was going to happen tonight.

By the time he'd finished brushing his teeth and making sure that there was no trace of ejaculate left on his glasses, Draco appeared to be asleep. All of the excitement of watching Draco get off-- in spite of the surprise ending-- had left Harry rather hard. He could go back into the bathroom to take care of it, but he decided he was more comfortable here. Plus here he could at least look at Draco and feel the warmth of him next to him.

Closing his eyes, he slipped his hand under his waistband and traced his fingers along his cock. He moved slowly, warming up to his own touches as he increased the pressure and began to grip it in full. He was so enthralled by his fantasy of Draco mouthing his prick, that he hadn't noticed that Draco had slipped under the covers and by the look of the large lump next to his hips, was getting quite an eyeful. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was for a little bit, but I kept having these nightmares that you died without someone putting their mouth on it." Harry felt Draco's breath on his cock. "Besides, you moan too loudly for me to sleep through."

Harry pushed the sheets back to watch. He observed the way Draco fisted the base of his cock and licked experimentally just the way Harry did. Almost as if it was an ice cream cone, only... holy fuck it felt so good. He could barely believe that the same skin he'd just been touching could feel so much better. He was a definite fan of this soft wetness.

He loved the way that Draco's mouth had to stretch to get around his cock, that Draco was doing this at all. Harry sat up on his elbows to watch Draco struggling to take him down and Harry felt badly for him. He thought about giving advice but as he'd just done it the first time a moment ago, he didn't really have any brilliant pearls of wisdom aside from, "There... just there..."

Draco was flicking his tongue along the head, dipping the tip into the slit. He was definitely more imaginative; Harry had to give him that. But then Draco opened his mouth and took Harry all the way into him, or at least most of the way. His fingers remained at the base of Harry's prick and he started to bob his head in rhythm. Harry tried to move with that rhythm, but after a few longer strokes, he felt Draco start to gag and was forced to stop.

After that, Harry found his hipbones pinned to the bed by Draco's hands as he rocked back and forth on his knees, swiveling his neck for variety as he sucked Harry hard. Draco's cheeks hollowed out and blushed as he moved. Harry spread his legs, expecting to feel a finger there, fair was fair after all. The finger never came, or at least it was obliterated but the sudden dizzying vibrating feeling of his oncoming orgasm. His eyes rolled back and he fought to buck more into Draco's mouth, but what he got instead was Draco slowing down, but giving more determined pulls. The result was the same. Harry's balls were tightening and he let out a blind yelp that he was coming. Now he understood what Draco was saying.

He was both pleased and disappointed that Draco moved back and pushed a tissue over the head of his expelling prick. Draco's lips were bright red and he was flushed and glistening and they'd just... sucked each other off and there was no way that they couldn't talk about things now. This was getting serious.

Draco tossed the tissues into the bin by the bed and then got up to pull his pyjamas back on.

"Draco."

"Harry."

"What we... we just... you know... we should... you know?"

Draco smirked and slipped back into bed. "Should we? You're going to have to die; I'm not sure what it matters."

Suddenly Harry was hurt. Maybe even more hurt than he was that he was going to die. "So just snog till we die?"

"Technically it's only you that has to die, and really with your luck, you probably won't die. But just in case you do, would you rather whinge about it till someone puts you out of your misery or would you like to do more of..." Draco gestured to Harry's waist. "That?"

"Point, but... do you even like me?"

Draco rolled his eyes and gave Harry a withering look. "You really are stupid, Potter." With that, he rolled over and refused to speak.

--

Harry awoke to pale hair in his face. He inhaled slowly; enjoying the citrus smell of Draco, thrilled that finally he'd stayed in bed and didn't jump up to shower immediately or find some other random thing to do. He pulled him closer, burying his face in Draco's hair and sliding his hand across his furry chest. Furry.

Pulling back, Harry frowned at Lolly. Her placid smile remained the same, even as Harry muttered, "Bastard."

--

Breakfast was a morose affair. Ron and Hermione kept exchanging meaningful glances and stopping mid sentence as if there was no point in talking about the future with a dead man walking. Draco said nothing, but glared almost constantly at Harry's forehead. All in all, Harry was starting to wish that Voldemort would get on with it if this was how it was going to be.

He was pondering whether death would hurt or not and chewing his bacon thoughtfully when Draco excused himself from the table to write a letter to his mum. Harry couldn't help but feel like he'd betrayed Draco in some way, although when he met Draco's eyes, for the nanosecond before Draco looked away, he looked nothing other than sympathetic. Somehow, that hurt more than the thought that Draco might be angry.

"We'll find a way past this, Harry. You know we'll figure something out," said Hermione. She touched Harry's hand and he looked down at it and then to her eyes. She didn't waver or look away. He could see the sincerity, but it seemed entirely too fanciful. He remembered what Dumbledore said about how the prophecy was optional, that he and Voldemort could just decide not to fight and go their separate ways, but he knew that there was no way that they could call a truce, especially not now that he'd destroyed all but the final two Horcruxes.

Harry dropped eye contact with Hermione. "I know you'll try. I just... there's some point when luck runs out, isn't there?"

"Harry, Dumbledore said to keep us with you and there will be some way out of this. You know that. Deep down you must know that." In spite of Hermione's words, Harry could feel a frantic need to believe what she said that led him to believe she didn't. Sneaking his curled index finger under his glasses, he rubbed his eye and nodded.

"We'll sort something out, mate." Ron sounded less definite, but he'd stood up to pat Harry's back and Harry turned to hug him tightly. Hermione hopped up to join in, hugging him from behind. Even if this was the end, he knew that he had family here, at least he was loved. This was what he was protecting, and if he had to die to do it, then so be it. This had to go on, this would endure no matter what happened to him-- it was bigger than him. Maybe that's what Dumbledore wanted him to have, to understand before he passed on.

He just wished Draco were part of it.

--

"Look Malfoy, I understand you don't want to talk about it, but it's really silly to starve yourself just to avoid me." Harry pounded on the door again. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Draco since breakfast. Balancing the dinner plate of curry in his hand he knocked again and then tried the door. It wasn't hexed shut, so it opened wide revealing... nothing. Draco wasn't in this room either. He went back to his room and Draco was not there either. Running up to the attic, he started to get the sinking feeling that Draco was no longer in Grimmauld place.

After dashing room to room, Harry ran down to the kitchen, flushed and breathless. "Malfoy's gone."

Ron set his utensils down. "What?"

Repeating it was proving too much for Harry. He set the plate down as he felt the lonely prickle of abandonment irritate his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to steel himself against the overwhelming emotions that threatened to purge his curry. "I can't find him."

"Did you check the attic?" asked Hermione.

"Yes."

"And the drawing room?"

"Of course."

"What about the cellars?"

"HERMIONE, I LOOKED EVERYWHERE!" He saw the stricken look on her face and he knew he should recant, but his frustration overwhelmed his good sense and all he wanted to do was to lash out at someone, anyone. Too bad Snape wasn't here.

Then he caught onto the idea. He eyed the fireplace with malicious intent. Of course, where else would Draco have gone? He was upset, confused and probably scared-- although he didn't seem that frightened last night with a cock stuffed in his mouth. Harry's expression turned viperous at the thought. Perhaps if Draco was going to play kept boy for Snape, the greasy old git should know just what kind of boy he was keeping.

Ron and Hermione had gotten up and were moving towards Harry, but he brushed past them to kneel before the fireplace. He had no idea if this would work, it was probably a harebrained gambit at best, but at this point, Harry didn't care. Grabbing a fistful of Floo powder, he threw it into the fireplace and announced, "To Snape."

In a dizzying whoosh, Harry was carried to a small room lit all in candles. There was little to no personal touches in the room aside from the darkness of the huge mahogany bed covered in rich furs and black velvet, the stone fireplace he'd tumbled out of and a large cauldron that was wedged in the corner of two large bookshelves laden with small, unlabeled vials of unidentifiable ingredients. He cast a quick glance at the room, but it was also sans Draco. Then again, Snape was nowhere to be seen either.

He cast about for clues, gathering his courage to go out through the large, walnut door when it opened and Snape swished through. Upon seeing Harry, he quickly shut the door and flourished his wand to seal the room shut and quiet. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Malfoy?"

Wand still at the ready, Snape considered the question and perked a brow. Though his face remained placid, his body tensed. "He should be with you."

"You don't know where he is?" The idea that he wasn't with Snape hadn't occurred to him. Recalling the wolves at the door on that first night that Draco came to him, he was filled with much more than jealousy.

"Go back to your house and wait. If he's here, I'll find him."

Suddenly Harry really didn't want to leave. Snape couldn't be Draco's hero, if there was saving to be done, it should be Harry doing it. "No. I'm not leaving. I'll go with you, if you like, but I'm not going to leave him to you to rescue."

"You have no idea where you are, Potter. Go now; you're not ready for this battle." Snape grabbed Harry by the collar and tried to drag him to the fireplace. Harry was no longer a small preteen and shoved him back.

"I don't care where I am. I need to find him." He crossed his arms and glared at Snape. "And if here is so dangerous, then why was I allowed in?"

"It's set up for Malfoy, should he need to speak with me or visit me. This is the Dark Lord's lair and I daresay you're not up to the task of battling him just yet... unless today is the day you wish to die, in which case..." Snape stepped aside and held his hand towards the door.

Harry started to it. If Draco was here and needed him, then today was a good day to die. Halting Harry with his hand against his chest, Snape shook his head. "No, you fool. You don't even know that he's here."

"Where else would he have gone?" Harry swatted Snape's hand away and grabbed his wand from his waistband, prepared to fight.

Snape shook his head. "If he were here... I should know about it. I would have been informed, unless I've been compromised." He paced in front of the large bed and stopped to curl his hand around the twisting spire. "But were I compromised, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'd be with him... unless..."

"Unless what?" Harry edged to the door and Snape laid down another hex. When Harry grabbed for the knob, he felt a vibrating shock like an electrical current running through his arm and released it. "Ow!"

"Unless they're waiting for me to come to them. Go back to Grimmauld, and if you do not hear from me within the hour, come back through if you must. I will buy what time I can for him, the rest is up to you." Snape crossed to the door and waved his wand. "Finite."

Snape's manner was so fatherly, so official and so automatic that Harry couldn't doubt his sincerity-- even though he wanted to. Now he was forced to realize that Snape didn't have merely perverted designs on Draco, but perhaps he had real feelings for him. He was ashamed of what he'd allowed himself to believe. "I'll... right. I'll wait."

As he felt the magical wind of the Floo start to lift him back through the network to Grimmauld, he heard Snape's door slam and Harry started to prepare himself for what might be his final hour on Earth.