AN: Fun fact: I put my tumblr on my dating profiles which is linked to my AO3 and somebody unmatched me after telling me I was a creep for writing this. Here's to the crazy, kinky concept of two adults consensually enjoying one another. And also all the actual kinks. Cheers!
Chapter 7: Brahms' Lullaby
The first night in this agreement in the Manor Draco insisted they sleep apart again. He would tuck Harry in again as well, but it was important for him to develop a sense of independence in his room if it was to truly be his. Harry could choose to sleep in Draco's room any other night but tonight.
All that contemplation ran the risk of Harry running for the hills upon realizing what a mistake he'd made while horny, but if that were to happen then Draco preferred it happen sooner rather than later. He wanted to invest himself fully in this, and that wouldn't be possible if he was always afraid lack of contact with Harry would make the other man change his mind about being here.
The Manor could be imposing in everything it needed doing. It could also be imposing because while the structure and foundation changed, it was on this spot that Harry's friends were tortured, where people were killed. There were no literal ghosts in this house, thankfully, but some came in dreams to Draco. Harry suffered nightmares as Draco did doubtlessly, and out of courtesy Draco would always offer him a way out of this house with its haunting absences.
It had to be hard for Harry, Draco imagined as he folded the blanket over his chest and tucked it in around him. Tonight's pair of pyjamas were a mint green, custom-ordered on rush in Harry's exact size. "And if you need anything else don't be afraid to wake me," Draco went on.
"What about that 'purpose of life' job you've got?" Harry poked fun because he was a little jealous of it, too.
"I love it so much I've got vacation days stocked up for weeks. I'm taking as many as I need indefinitely to train you. If you still want it in the morning tomorrow then we'll begin. As far as training goes you need a schooling like you've never had before, and I can give it to you if you really want to be my submissive."
"I really do," Harry urged again and was met with Draco's hushing index finger. He quieted down.
Draco swept back Harry's hair and leaned down for a kiss to his forehead just like the last time. Unlike then, though, Draco also kissed his nose and lips on the way down before rising and leaning in to whisper in his ear.
"Goodnight, Harry, and only the sweetest of dreams."
"Goodnight, Draco," Harry whispered in return. He was only a little frustrated that he needed to spend a night alone when he was always alone. Still, he didn't dare question the method since Draco sounded like he was giving Harry a gift to be able to do this when he announced it over lunch.
Packing had been quick with Harry taking only a few outfits, some snacks, his shoebox of memories, and his broom. Harry was in a way glad Amortentia could do one good thing for the world—force him to be reflective enough to remember he loved flying. The wards on the Manor were extended like a shield which left a hefty rectangle of space for Harry to practice being up on a broom again.
Training. If Draco was going to train him, and oh how Harry hoped he did so roughly, then Harry was also going to train himself. Mind, body, and more on Harry needed at least a quarter of the discipline he'd given it when he thought the world was ending.
Harry frowned to be having thoughts like that here, but he wasn't foolish enough to the think these walls truly impenetrable to Harry's insecurities. Still, Harry focused on the positives: very soft bed, close to Draco, and extremely clean and neat private bathroom. Soon infinite clean clothes would come, and possibly again the intimacy that Harry craved from Draco now. He wanted to kiss him again and again, but he was gone after the little ritual they'd developed.
Draco closed the door almost all the way, leaving a crack. The magical nightlight on the dresser he'd purchased on a whim a few years ago would do Harry well if he wanted it, and Harry had been shown how to use it to project different shapes and colors.
Harry set it to a low rainbow pulse, falling asleep with ease after watching the colors blend and move around the room.
Most of the day awake was spent showing Harry how things worked from the kitchen to the tiny, pathetic garden outside. Oh, how Neville Longbottom would have wept to see these expensive plants all either overwatered or underwatered, whatever was making them wilt like that.
Night snuck up on them, and after a shared dinner at the comically-large dining room table where they sat on opposite sides to be funny but wound up having to move for lack of hearing the other, bedtime was upon them once more.
All properly tucked in for the second night in a row, it seemed like all that was left to do was sleep. Harry closed his eyes, his glasses resting on the nightstand next to his wand and his shoebox under his bed like it had been under his bed at the flat.
Harry kept a shoebox of all the things he considered his most important items. Pictures of his parents, pictures of Remus and Sirius, a drawing from Teddy, a note from Fred, and at least a dozen other seemingly meaningless knickknacks. The invisibility cloak was in there, too, and Harry was planning on giving it to Teddy in a year when he went to Hogwarts for the first time. It wasn't as if Harry needed it anymore. Adults didn't have to do much sneaking around.
Harry closed his eyes again because somehow they'd opened when he'd meant to keep them shut—a requisite of falling asleep, Potter, focus—he envisioned the shoebox sitting alone under the center of the bed he was in.
He imagined it glowing faintly as well with the nightlight but this shoebox a warm red with flecks of orange like fire, warming him from the bottom-up. Light and heat pulsed from the box in larger, more intense waves as Harry sunk deeper, deeper still into the bed.
When he next felt his eyes open he was annoyed—hadn't he just willed them shut again?—but it seemed some time had passed. Harry blinked, rubbing his eyes to reveal the room bathed in the light of late morning. Damn, maybe getting tucked in was the secret thing Harry had been missing all along. He would likely see a return of the nightmares and restlessness soon, but these past two nights had been bliss.
Harry chuckled to himself remembering that place Draco had taken him, the weird dessert boutique Harry had been so concerned was actually a massive BDSM party. He probably still wasn't even ready for those.
He sat up, oddly rested and unsure what to do with all this spare energy. He stood, jumping on the balls of his feet a little. Hell, when was the last time he stretched? Harry raised his arms high to the sky, fingertips pushing as far up as they could, and then bent to stretch to his toes. His spine cracked the whole way back down, and it felt better than it probably should have.
After some twists to even things out Harry made his way to the bathroom. Yesterday Draco had shown him all the different products in here and how he expected them to be used, practically leaving him with written—yes, written—instructions on the wall framed in glass.
Harry wondered if this was another trick to life he'd been missing—lists. Draco sure liked to make them from the look he got at his desk back in Draco's master bedroom. His workspace was probably like that too—Harry had a sudden and perverse interest in seeing Draco's office at St. Mungo's.
He stepped into the shower and began the routine, exfoliating his whole body with a loofah paying special attention to the face. Then came soap all over, a toner he still didn't understand the purpose of, a special shampoo and conditioner—two separate products instead of the all-on-one men's stuff he'd been using at the flat that made Draco's skin crawl from just looking at it.
The routine was what his Daddy wanted him to do, so Harry stuck to it strictly. It certainly didn't hurt that everything smelled incredible, and Draco had said he'd be brewing custom mulberry mixes of the same products for him.
After all of that there was still more to do, but following along with the steps was oddly relaxing. Maybe it truly could become routine if he tried hard to keep with it. Stepping from the shower, he followed up all of that with a full-body moisturizer that smelled like vanilla, Draco's favorite. There was a separate moisturizer for the face—'of course', Draco had said—so Harry did that too.
When it was all done Harry toweled off feeling quite refreshed. When he opened the door to his room again he put on some of the clothes he'd brought—how offensive could Draco really find jeans and a t-shirt?
Maybe if it was so atrocious Draco would have no choice but to strip Harry down. Now there was a thought.
In the end Harry went with an inoffensive white shirt and started his way down the stairs. From what he was smelling—and mm, so savory—Draco was cooking breakfast for two again. Perking up, Harry rushed the rest of the way to the kitchen. "Draco?" he called out.
"In here," Draco responded from his place in front of the stove sizzling up bacon in pan and eggs in the other. Harry turned the corner to see him and felt his knees melt like they had when he'd been sucking him off. "Good morning," Draco looked over his shoulder. "How do you like your eggs, Harry?"
"Morning, and scrambled," Harry answered eagerly, hopping up on a marble countertop next to the stove, feet bare and swinging. "Smells really good."
"How did you sleep?"
"Like a rock," Harry bragged.
"That's good to hear, and it looks like you followed my instructions well enough," Draco nodded to Harry's wet hair. He smelled downright intoxicating but Draco was trying to focus on not burning breakfast. "Excellent work."
Harry beamed. He was taking to direction well, and every bit of encouragement from Draco that came after just made him more convinced to keep doing so. If Draco thought he was changing his mind about him after another night of sobriety he had another thing coming. "Thanks."
When everything was done Draco transferred the scrambled eggs and bacon over to two plates, handing one to Harry. "Let's eat here at the counter," Draco decided, taking up a stool with an intricately-carved back and inviting Harry to sit on the one next to him.
"And thank you for breakfast," Harry nodded. He was getting three regular meals with Draco and his body was thanking him for it, too.
"Of course, dear." Draco gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze to test where he was on touch this morning and Harry eagerly leaned into it. Interesting. "Now, eat up. You have a long day of training ahead of you if you want it, remember?"
"I want it," Harry confirmed once again, tempted to throw some expletives in there next time if Draco didn't believe him.
"We'll break again for lunch and dinner, and after dinner we can relax. Or you can relax alone, if you like." Independence was important after aftercare. Just because Draco wanted to be glued at the hip didn't mean it was what Harry wanted or even the healthiest thing to do.
Harry did want, however, to be at Draco's side as often as possible health be damned. Thankfully it seemed being with Draco was only improving his health since that 'house call' yesterday. Harry had almost forgotten how good sex with other people that weren't his right hand was.
And how damn good fresh eggs and bacon were. The both of them were reaping the joys of Draco's cooking skills.
"Looking forward to it," Harry said on the subject of training, sitting up straighter on his stool as he forked down the eggs and bacon. "If I'm good, may I sleep in your bed tonight?" Harry batted his eyelashes, laying it on pretty thick.
At least Draco was amused by that. "If you're good, yes. Daddy's bed is always open to you now." He patted Harry's shoulder again and observed how he moved into it. "You don't get touched enough," Draco stated plainly.
Harry blushed but couldn't say he was wrong.
"Worry not, love," Draco assured him. "I'm going to change all of that." He finished off his bacon and wiped his mouth with a monogrammed silk-blend napkin. "Are you okay with that? Me calling you 'love'?"
"Yeah, yes," Harry nodded quickly. "S'just an expression. I like it. I like a lot of the names you give me, a far cry from our school days."
Draco had to laugh at that, recalling his 'Potter Stinks' badges. "Well, 'Potter Smells Lovely Actually and It Confuses Me' wasn't as catchy. And especially now…" Draco leaned in to rest his head on Harry's shoulder. He took a deep inhale of the mixtures of scents he'd put together for him, and sighed happily.
With a bit of shame Harry reflected on how he had better hygiene habits in school than now. No melancholy could last long, though, not when Draco's handsome pointed chin was touching him and rewarding him for washing up like he'd asked. Draco breathed out against his neck and Harry shivered.
"We really were fools for not doing this sooner, huh?" Harry remarked. They were completely compatible in terms of twisted minds and humor, kinks and twists, and he couldn't help but wonder if that had something to do with the other. Having a rival was inherently homoerotic, but how had Harry never realized the extent until seeing Draco ten years later?
Draco chuckled and pulled back Harry's shirt collar to give the base of his neck a kiss. "Wouldn't have worked then," he murmured. "It works now."
"It does," Harry agreed, moving his hand to Draco's thigh. The urge to kiss him grew like vines in his chest all over his lungs and heart, squeezing them in urgency. Harry moved his head to the side to find Draco already leaning in, and the two connected their lips.
The union of their lips was a union of hearts in truth with both too afraid to admit it. This was supposed to be transactional, wasn't it? Harry had been gifted a muggle black card on his dresser in his room but he hadn't touched it yet.
At least Harry knew now for sure what a madman he was, and how he could learn to be a happier madman at Draco's side. Being both miserable and crazy wouldn't do—one had to go and the latter wasn't changing.
Harry failed, multiple times, from multiple proctors, a psychological evaluation for the Auror Academy that a man who called himself 'Mad-Eye Moody' had passed the first time around. Harry then moped about it for ten years, wallowing in his own uneventful pity party. Harry then decided to be Draco Malfoy's fucktoy for fun, and only then was he happy. Utter and complete madness.
"Harry," Draco whispered against his lips. "I want you to go up to my room and put on the clothing I've laid on the bed for you. I'll come to you when I'm ready."
Was Draco going to make him wait even more? Harry hoped it wouldn't be long.
Draco got up and Harry did the same, eyes wide and looking at Draco for further instruction.
"The hell did I just say?" Draco snarked and gave Harry's arse a slap on his way out. "Up there. Now. I'll come when I'm good and ready."
"Yes, I'll be quick," Harry replied, heading for the stairs. Maybe if he got dressed fast then Draco would come faster. It made sense in his head.
It struck Harry as soon as he had his hand on the doorknob that he'd never been in Draco's room alone. Draco had gotten to snooping immediately upon walking into his home, and the urge to do the same was tempting but felt forbidden.
Harry closed the massive white double doors behind him and looked around. In daylight the room looked so peaceful, and even larger than Harry had remembered. A cauldron of incredibly high quality was now set on the desk, so Draco had been brewing something recently. Harry scanned for further clues into Draco's life.
What Harry found instead was what he was intended to wear neatly placed by the edge of the massive bed. His face went red just thinking about himself in this getup.
Frilly lavender lace covered the front of a set of bra and panties with garters attached, and thigh-high sheer socks at the ends. Harry's eyes went further down to the floor where there were—he gulped. A pair of shiny white pumps with crystal hearts on the tops of the toes sat on top of a note.
Harry bent down to retrieve it.
H—
I know you're nervous, so take a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth, like I've got my stethoscope on you, my hand on your heart. I want you to have fun, and be comfortable above all. You know the word to make it stop, and I will never fault you for using it. Now if you haven't run for the hills, go get cute for me.
—Daddy D
"Daddy D," Harry read aloud in an exploratory whisper. It felt so freeing. Fuck what anyone else thought of this arrangement they'd stumbled into—this was right. There would be no running, for Harry was staying right here.
His life was full of so much regret, so much shame and guilt compounded by how much he fretted about it. Harry thought maybe, just maybe, if he supplicated himself often enough at the marble altar of Draco Malfoy he might find some forgiveness, some Grace.
Harry grabbed the lingerie up in his fists and got to work 'getting cute'.
First all of his clothes had to come off, and they ended up in a folded pile on the nightstand this time since he wasn't stripping in earnest. Draco's mouth had felt so incredible yesterday that his cock twitched slightly at the memory alone.
Next came the knickers, skimpy and lacy in a way that tickled Harry's thighs as he pulled them on. His cock bulged out noticeably once fabric went over his hips but Harry liked how it looked, how he looked. He liked the garters even more, hooking them up and slipping on the socks with a big, dopey grin on his face.
The bra was a bit of a puzzle to Harry having only ever unhooked Ginny's once by accident through her shirt in an ill-fated snogging session. He held it up to the light and found the front, at least, slipping it on over his shoulders and fastening the clasp in back quite unevenly.
The cups were small but snug enough to make Harry appreciate Draco taking his measurements. The padded fabric pushed his chest up a little, and Harry adjusted the straps to make sure they supported it.
The last step felt the strangest to him. Clothes were just clothes, but shoes like that? Harry bit his lower lip as he stepped into them, hoping for the best.
Much to his surprise the metaphorical glass slippers quite literally fit. They were uncomfortable to be up so high, but there was enough room for Harry's toes and it was wide enough, too.
Harry took a cautious first step and nearly rolled his ankle. These things were not for the faint of heart, apparently. He took another step, steadying himself this time and staying unbroken. He tried to walk in a line but it was really hard to go straight, and he was always bending slightly to balance himself out as if walking on stilts.
Finally he waddled up to the bed and sat on the edge, giving his feet a rest for now. How long would it be until Draco arrived? Harry found himself playing with the end of the lacy ruffles of the panties after a little while, hands needing something to fidget with. At least he wasn't pulling his hair.
After what felt like an eternity there was a knock on the door.
"Are you ready for me?" inquired Draco through doors peeked open.
"Yes, Daddy," Harry responded eagerly. He positioned himself a little more on his side, trying to show himself off in the beautiful clothes Draco had given him.
Draco stepped into his room and found his wet dreams come alive in Harry Potter clad only in his custom lingerie, arse sticking out like he was trying to model for a camera. "Oh, yes, now that's a pretty boy," Draco marveled walking towards him. "Stand up."
"Yes, Daddy." Harry stood with more confidence than he'd earned in this kind of shoe. "I… really like this." This outfit, this room, this man…
"Shoulders back," Draco ordered, moving them for Harry. "Back straight, hips square." Draco assessed him head-to-toe once more. "And chin up, love. You've got a lot to prove to me."
Harry swallowed thickly. He was ready, he swore it. Harry stuck his chin up and looked defiantly at Draco.
"Now, you may be a submissive at heart, but you must be trained to become my submissive. There are lessons you must learn. Today's is in decorum—charm, and behavior. When you submit to me you are not permitted to slouch, Harry. You must hold yourself knowing Daddy's looking at your body."
"Yes, I will," Harry whispered, wobbling slightly in his pumps.
"You will speak when I ask you questions, and you will respect my authority above all. When I enter a room you will stand for me until I tell you to sit down—if I do," Draco went on. "When I make a request, you fulfill it. When I jump, you don't ask me how high because you should know it's as high as you can push yourself."
Draco cocked his head to the side, a sick grin creeping over his face. "Jump, Harry. Now."
Harry blinked. He hesitated, and was met with a swat to the hip for doing so. "Sorry, uh, okay," Harry said and did his best to jump in place.
"Again—I know you can go higher."
Harry jumped again, trying to straighten out his body as much as he could to elongate the length of it in these tall shoes.
"Good enough for now, and at least I got to see your tits bounce. Now, walk in a straight line from one end of the room to the other, and don't stop until I say."
"Yes, sir," Harry said shakily. This was not going to be pretty.
"Sir, I like that too. You better walk for me if I'm your superior."
He put one foot in front of the other as best he could, wobbling and nearly tripping as he turned around.
"That won't do," Draco said with a tsk-tsk and wag of his finger before jumping into some good, old-fashioned degradation. "You're a whore, you remember that, right? You put an ad for your body out in a public newspaper for the market to decide what to do with it. You need punishment so terribly you wrote a glorified want-ad. Sluts like you should at least know how to walk in heels if you like rubbing off to just thinking of wearing them so much. You've never actually worn them before now, I'm assuming?"
"Yes, Daddy." Harry looked down. 'Draconian' was sure right, and that snarl in Draco's voice like he used to get in their childhood arguments was sounding hotter and hotter.
"Chin up, eyes front," Draco commanded.
Harry's emerald eye cast their spell upon Draco. He swallowed to gaze into them, and it wasn't long before Draco was kissing him. Harry melted under the affection because he wasn't touched enough, he'd never been touched enough or kissed enough or hugged enough. Harry wanted it, he wanted it all from a man who he trusted, as Draco said in the bar.
In complete trust Harry sighed into Draco's lips, craving him anywhere he could have him.
Draco pulled away and gave Harry's cheek an affectionate scratch. "Here, I'll show you." Draco turned around to step out of his slippers and towards the closet. From there he produced two black heels of his own size. "Come on, over here," Draco beckoned. He slipped his feet into the custom heels as a second skin. Draco was even taller like this, and twice as imposing.
"You step with your toes first," Draco went on, leg out. He demonstrated a casual walk across the room to Harry's astonishment.
"Where did you learn to do that?"
"You're on hallowed ground, pet. The master bedroom, right where this equivalent is now, used to be where I put on private shows of my mother's fashions. Her heels were far too big, so I stuffed them with stockings." Draco allowed a fond smile from a good part of his childhood. It was a private memory that he always thought his mother knew about but never mentioned. That was better than the alternative negative reaction, anyway.
"But these," Draco pointed out, unaware he was melting Harry's heart, too. "Are custom-fit magical heels, and you'll be walking in them."
"I can try it again," Harry insisted. Draco waved his arm inviting him to.
Harry didn't want to quit this, to quit on himself. Everyone had to be bad at something before they mastered it, right? Well, Harry took to magic like a Giant Squid to water and in the process some other life skills has been left behind, especially ones outside of performing 'male', which he barely knew how to do either.
Draco instructed him in his ways of walking in heels, showed him how to carry himself by touching him gently into the right posture and direction. Harry looked good enough to eat in that lingerie and it was hard to keep his hands off of him.
"Watch this," Draco said as if it were a challenge. Even though he was dressed like a free, fashionable man Harry couldn't help but imagine him in his school uniform when he was little and showing off to his friends. Harry recalled that Draco was powerful too, and always second-best in scores to Hermione.
Draco took a book off of his desk and placed it on top of his head. Harry's jaw dropped slightly to see Draco take his first steps, and then on.
Arms out, Draco walked perfectly still like he'd learned in charm school as a boy. When Draco finished his calm strut he removed the book from his head and offered it to Harry. "You have a lot to learn, Potter. Can you handle it?"
Harry took the book without hesitation. "I can. Teach me more."
Lunch was certainly appreciated after a workout like that. The book fell a lot, and that was just the beginning of the things he was meant to hold or do while walking in heels, sometimes blindfolded. The stumbling had exhausted him as it was intended to.
Dinner was a relief when it came next, and Harry could hardly believe how good Draco's cooking tasted. It made him want to try something, maybe the little things he'd have to make for the Dursleys like pancakes or even just popcorn or nachos. Something filling, to show Draco how he cared without having to say it.
Harry had spent all day in the getup Draco had selected for him, the house the perfect temperature and Draco's wandering eyes a constant excitement. Their desire was approaching a fever-pitch, interspersed by charm school lessons Draco passed down. Dining etiquette, proper posture practices, everything a man needed to blend in with high-class pureblood society. That was politeness to Draco Malfoy, after all. In that world and his mind titles and commands held power. Seeing Harry fucking Potter the most powerful wizard of their age learn this for the first time was always a little shocking to the system.
"I had a feeling you went to charm school," Harry said slyly on their way up the stairs together from practice on hardwood floor in the pantry, which was huge enough to walk into like a catwalk. Draco really did think of everything.
"Yes, yes, because I'm so charming, I am often complimented on my sparkling personality," Draco flippantly replied before smacking Harry's ass, knocking him off-balance for a moment but ultimately catching himself on a stair. "Ha! Not bad for a day's work."
Harry glared with no malice, suppressing a laugh. "Is it weird to say I have a newfound respect for women? I mean, I've always respected women, but this shit is hard. Drag queens, too. Basically anyone who works in heels," Harry pondered aloud, getting to the second floor and moving up the next flight of stairs without stopping.
Draco couldn't help but smile at the earnest sentiment. "Yes, it's an acquired skill. But today was not the last of your lessons or training, of course. I have another, more intimate session for you tonight if you wish to attend in my room."
They arrived at the third floor with silver eyes locked on green.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied lowly.
"Then it's decided." Draco, arm still intertwined with Harry's as they approached the double doors, used his free hand to wave his wand for the doors to open and shut behind them. "Tonight you will have a very simple task, Harry. Do not dare let yourself orgasm until I've given you explicit vocal permission." Draco released Harry's arm to grab his hips, fingers sprawled across the lavender fabric. "You have no idea how hard it is for me, teaching and not being able to touch you like I want lest you forget it all. But some lessons can be taught in the heat of passion, too."
Harry stepped closer to Draco to fill the gap between them. "Could you tell I was showing off?" Harry whispered in his ear. "All day, showing off to make you look,"
"Wiggling those hips like that ought to be illegal, yes," Draco confirmed with a joyous laugh as it had been his hope that he wasn't misreading Harry's movements that were clearly displaying more goods than others. Draco was always paying close attention to Harry's body, his body language as well. "I could tell it fit. I could also tell you love wearing it."
"I do," Harry whimpered close to a moan, leaning further into Draco. Their different colognes had been mingling all day and Harry loved the smell. "I'm not," he clarified softly. "A Drag Queen. I'm a man and I just... like this."
"I'm glad, you look damn good," Draco responded seriously. "There is nothing wrong with that answer."
"Was there a wrong answer?"
"A dishonest one," Draco replied sagely. "Now, you may take off the shoes. I know your feet must be killing you by now."
"Oh," Harry sighed. "Thank you, Daddy." Harry stepped out of them and wiggled his toes on the carpet. It felt good to be free.
"And please, if you would, get on the bed on all-fours."
Harry gulped. After a moment he stepped to it, crawling onto Draco's massive bed with his arse in the air, placing his glasses to the side. "Like this?" Harry asked.
"Perfect." Draco grabbed Harry's arse and he inhaled sharply, not having heard his approach as Draco had stepped out of his shoes as well. "How long has it been, Harry Potter?" Draco questioned tauntingly, hands moving inward, spreading his cheeks to view his arsehole through the lace.
"Too long," was Harry's first automatic response. "Three years, sir."
"Then it looks like I'll be putting some work in to open you up tonight," Draco murmured and moved Harry's glasses to the nightstand.
"It's been too long, and I want you,," Harry replied, moving his hips in a circle.
Draco easily spanked the moving target. "I can hardly resist—oh, tomorrow we'll test you in pain. Tonight I want to deflower you again, spread you until you can take my cock. That sound serviceable?"
"Yes, Daddy," Harry practically begged, sticking his arse out for more. What was a pain test? Harry very much wanted to know.
Draco let out a hiss of air, undoing his top shirt buttons and stretching his neck for a beat. "Hey now, pain is for tomorrow. Tonight I need to open you up again carefully, painslut. Moan about it all you like, but we'll get to punishments for your impudence soon enough. Today you were good in heels—as graceful as you could be. Tonight you get rewarded with one eventual orgasm after I've mounted you to my heart's content."
With the shedding of Draco's shirt Harry couldn't help but look over his shoulder at the man standing behind him still blushing from how appealing it sounded to be 'mounted'. Eyes wide and trusting beheld a thin but sculpted chest and stomach. Harry licked his lips. He tried to see himself through Draco's eyes too, a man spread and having assumed the position he was ordered to. "Yes, Daddy."
"Your arse is a treasure but I would be remiss," Draco emphasized, empowered by Harry's repetition of the phrase that was music to his ears. "To ignore that lovely chest of yours." Draco reached his arms around Harry's sides and grasped the cups of his bra and all that was within them, groping under for direct access to Harry's nipples.
"Oh!" Harry gasped, arms shaking. Draco tweaked Harry's nipples quite mercilessly, sending jolts straight down to his cock. "Yes, yes Daddy," Harry repeated in a low, breathy tone to feel Draco's nail gently run down the sensitive skin.
"What a good boy, can't stop calling out for his Daddy," Draco cooed, squeezing the tips of Harry's nipples and dragging them as little of the space as he could far out from his chest and released with a scratch of his nails.
"Ah, ah, ohh, that was, that was nice," Harry breathed. The bra felt even tighter with his nipples throbbing from the overstimulation.
"And there's more where that came from." Draco hooked his fingers into Harry's panties and pulled down, exposing him. Harry wriggled self-consciously as Draco removed the panties from the garters so Harry would have the socks on still when he was fucking him.
Freeing Harry's cock had set loose the hard length that Draco had been expecting. "Daddy…" Harry whispered. "Look how hard I am for you." The master of his orgasms loomed behind him and he was always going to have to earn one.
"Yes, pet, you like to have Daddy watching, don't you? I see, darling, I see that pretty cock hard for me." Draco undid his trousers and slipped them off as one with his underwear, no more time to waste on his own pleasure. Draco too was hard as a rock and not afraid to show it off. "I see that hole of yours, too, so sweet and little, but don't worry, I know how to open you up slowly. Trust me—I'm a Healer."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "And how long have you been waiting to use that one?"
When Draco next spoke his breath puffed between Harry's arsecheeks. "As long as I've been waiting to do this." A wet, hot tongue swiped over Harry's hole and his toes curled under. Draco licked again and Harry gripped the sheets for dear life. Of all the times Harry had said for Draco to kiss his arse… Prophetic.
"Da-ddy," Harry choked out, shocked by the sensitivity and Draco's boldness. No man had ever licked him there and especially not like that, and Draco's mouth just kept coming back for more.
Harry was clean but still self-conscious of how he might taste but it seemed Draco wasn't giving a thought in the world to that, licking over the puckered skin like he was made of something delicious. The little swirls Draco gave of his tongue around the outside of his hole made Harry twitch.
"You taste divine," Draco murmured, lips on Harry's arsecheeks, as if he'd heard Harry's thoughts. "Relax for me, sweetling. Take a deep breath in, just like that, and let it all out."
With his breath out Harry let forth a tiny moan, his hole coated in Draco's saliva and fluttering expectantly against each stripe he licked up across him. "Feels good, sir…" Harry murmured, trying to relax under the touches as he'd been instructed to.
"Yeah?" Draco asked breathily, pausing to lick the underside of Harry's balls. "I make you feel good, love?" He dragged his tongue back up to lap openly at Harry.
"Yes Daddy," Harry responded as fast as he could get the reassurance out. His thighs were trembling under the machinations of Draco's tongue pressed flat up his taint to his needy, long-neglected hole. Harry had almost forgotten how incredible this felt, having a man open him up, and never before had that man been Draco Malfoy so this instance was even hotter.
"Good. You do quite the same to me—how you tempt me bent over and whimpering," Draco said and purposefully brushed his erection against Harry's thigh. Harry shivered in a way that made Draco feel powerful, and dangerous. "We're going to make me fit in that little hole of yours." Draco prodded experimentally at it with his finger.
Harry groaned, arching his back so his arse stuck up further in the air.
"Already so slutty for it. You're quickly excited," Draco observed, quite pleased with the fact that he was the one to cause this wanton behavior in the savior of the wizarding world. "Are you easy, Harry? I want to hear you say it."
His cheeks went scarlet red. "I'm," Harry started. "I'm easy."
Draco dragged his finger around to circle Harry's entrance. "Yes, I thought as much. You're an ickle pretty whore, especially with how you're pulsing right now." Draco pressed his finger harder. "Like your body's begging for cock. How badly do you want it?"
"Bad," Harry replied, casting a glance over his shoulder at Draco to see how his finger was teasing his entrance. "I want it really bad."
"Because?"
"Because I'm a whore, Daddy." Now Harry's blush was so intense it was climbing down his neck.
"Yes," Draco said with a wicked grin. "Yes, you are."
He reached for the bedside table next to open a drawer and produce a vial of oil. "I brew this myself," Draco went on. "Tastes like cherry." It was even brewed to keep warm. He spread some onto his index finger and pressed it back against Harry's hole, pleased to hear a little peep of excitement from him when his touch returned to him slick and warm with lubricant. "Harry?" Draco paused.
"Draco," Harry whispered in response, realizing he hadn't said it in a while. This caring, sexually-charged man was the same boy that had made fun of him in school. Daddy D, Daddy Draco, that was who he was with, and every word Draco spoke aloud reminded Harry of it, filling him up with his voice.
"Do you want to be on your back or on your stomach? I think you've been good enough to decide."
Harry's arms were beginning to tremble holding himself up on all fours like this, and when Draco spoke his offer they nearly collapsed. "Facing you," Harry answered almost desperately. "I want to see you."
Draco's heart raced. Why had Harry said it like that? The heat in his voice, the intimacy of his suggestion made his Dominant blush.
Draco helped Harry onto his back.
"Spread your legs," Draco commanded, trying to regain control of himself and Harry at once. The other man's hard-on was now flush against his stomach looking positively swollen. "If you want to look then you better not take your eyes off of me."
"I won't," Harry swore and pushed his legs as wide apart as they could go. The slight constraint on his chest from the fabric of his bra was a constant reminder that he'd been the one to bring up being fucked in lingerie as a secret wish.
It seemed dreams did come true when Draco Malfoy was involved.
"Now," Draco said, nudging his lubricated digit against Harry's hole again. "Lay back, breathe deep, and relax for me." Draco swirled his finger around a few more times for good measure before sticking it in his mouth and licking it clean. "Mmm. Fruity like you are."
Harry let out a laugh at the absurdity, the joy of hearing Draco's bizarre off-the-wall comments that never ceased even in bed, it seemed. "Daddy," Harry said, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm for a moment in embarrassment as he laughed and laughed.
"What, am I wrong?" Draco laughed with him, delivering a harsh pinch to both arsecheeks that turned Harry's laughs to whines. He used his hands to spread Harry's legs open wider. "And remember, my tart, don't you dare spill your stuffing until Daddy's done with you," he teased. Draco licked the cherry lubricant hungrily, this time not withdrawing his tongue to repeat the action but going deeper.
"Ah," Harry gasped, feeling Draco's nose brush against his taint as he went so deep with his tongue's strokes.
All Harry could do was gasp and moan when Draco pressed harder, harder with his unrelenting mouth. With the taste of cherry and Harry on Draco's tongue he couldn't get enough. He snogged Harry's arsehole and felt it blossom around his hot tongue.
"That's—oh, so good!" Harry cried out.
He sounded surprised and it dawned on Draco that while he wouldn't be the first man to fuck Harry Potter he was the first man to rim him, to lick him open like he deserved. Just when Draco thought this couldn't get any hotter.
Draco's tongue teased the inside of Harry Potter as no one had ever done before. He breathed in through his nose, mouth latched to Harry's hole and sucking around him while his own cock throbbed almost painfully. It seemed this would be a test of his stamina, as well.
Draco pulled off of Harry with a loud smack of his lips, picking the vial up again and spreading the thick liquid within all over his fingers. "If only the world knew," Draco breathed, speaking as his index finger lowered back down, pressing to the split of Harry's spread legs. "What a simpering thing you turn into when your Daddy kisses your hole. The Great Harry Potter, open wide enough for what's next…"
At a careful pace Draco sank his finger in past the first ring of muscle and deeper in, always deeper until Harry had taken him to the hilt of his finger. "Daddy," Harry whined, the finger almost too much while almost too little. It burned like Harry knew it would from past experience, but it made Harry immediately want more, want to go wider and deeper with the stretch.
"How's that, love?" Draco checked in, free hand still pressed to Harry's thigh to keep him down.
"S'good," Harry breathed. He was keeping his promise to keep his eyes on Draco even when they wanted to roll back into his head or flutter shut.
"And how's this?" Draco asked with a grin, curling his finger inside of Harry again and again, making a come-hither motion as he explored inside of Harry's walls.
Harry's mouth opened but no noise came out at first. "Oh."
Draco pressed his fingertip to the spot that made Harry's eyebrows furrow. "Sensitive here, are we?" Draco mercilessly rubbed up against his prostate.
"Draco!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that," Draco lied, working his finger in and out so he could always end up against that same bundle of nerves. "You'll have to speak up, dearie. Daddy wants to know every thought in that pretty head of yours."
"Daddy," Harry tried, louder now than he intended to be, but who was around to hear them?
"Yes, sweetie, Daddy's here with what you need." Draco's index finger moved easily inside of him now, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his middle finger in with it.
Harry's eyes went wide, and no longer holding back on the volume of sounds that left him let quite the groan out to bounce on the walls.
"Yes, yes, be as loud as you like," Draco encouraged and twisted the fingers inside of him. "Scream for all I care, because nobody merciful can hear you."
"Fuck," Harry rasped. "Fuck, fuck…"
"Yes, I'll be doing that soon. Such an impatient whore." Draco pinched Harry's thigh and smiled fondly at how red the mark turned. While his two fingers worked Harry's walls open Draco was imagining what it would be like for his cock to be hugged by such wet heat. "You'll get my come soon enough like this."
"Yes," Harry gasped, voice thin and urgent. He had to take a deep breath before he continued, Draco's fingers already drawing little groans from the corners of his mouth with each movement. "I want you to, whenever you can, I want you to—to come inside of me."
Draco's silver eyes went wide and then narrowed like a predator's sighting prey. "Yes, I should have suspected you were a comeslut, too," Draco breathed, so high on Harry's words his dick jumped. "You like being filled, sweetheart? Don't you worry; Daddy will fill you right up."
Tears gathered at the corners of Harry's eyes not out of melancholy but sheer embarrassment. Draco, unjudging, was giving him everything he had ever wanted. "Thank you, Daddy," Harry said, blinking back the wetness.
"You are so welcome." Draco pushed in his third finger, stretching Harry as wide as he'd been in years.
The bite of pain sent a shockwave up Harry's spine. He knew Draco was even bigger than this, but also that Draco would give him enough time to adjust to this before moving up to that. He just had to relax.
"That's it, breathe deep," Draco murmured. "Breathe in deep, and out, and relax for Daddy."
Harry moaned as Draco's fingers curled inside of him, disappearing into him to rock his hips gently back into the bed.
"There you are, that's it… You're almost ready for me."
Harry's heart seized in his chest at the thought. Of course he knew that was where this was going but having that big, gorgeous cock of Draco's inside of him? Harry would need to see it to believe it, many times for extended proof, of course.
The three digits thrust in and eased out again and again. Draco could hardly believe his own eyes, could hardly believe how tight Harry had started and how wide he was now and how tight he would be again around his length—it was almost unreal.
But this was no dirty dream, this was the real deal. "Harry," Draco said, leaning forward so their faces were inches away. "Are you ready for me?"
Harry, glasses askew and fogged from the intensity of his blush, nodded. "Yes, I'm ready."
Draco removed his fingers leaving Harry empty and disoriented, seeing spots of color in front of his eyes. While he moaned and his head swam Draco's was entirely focused on lining up their hips. He spread the oil in the magically-endless vial over his prick from base to tip, nudging the tip at Harry's hole that was seeking something to clamp onto with the removal of his fingers.
Grunting to push past the first ring of muscles Draco found it so tired and stretched he was able slide in easily. The deeper rings took more dedicated force until Harry's walls relented for a moment allowing Draco to push through. "Fuck," Draco shuddered. "You're so tight." He had to steady himself to keep from finishing right when the most fun part started.
With a breathy moan Harry couldn't help but voice his agreement. The intrusion of Draco's cock was searing for a long moment, a kind of pain that Harry had missed terribly from his inactivity. "So big," was Harry's response, hips shifting slightly while impaled upon Draco.
Harry's movements sent shockwaves through Draco's nervous system, body lighting up with sensation in parts that weren't even touching Harry. They were connected now, Draco buried deep within him and unmoving at first to allow Harry to adjust.
"This is what you wanted, remember?" Draco taunted, starting a slight roll of his hips. "This is what you dreamed about."
The red tone Harry's darker skin had taken on only deepened as Draco spoke. "Yes, Daddy," Harry admitted, sparks of sensation climbing up his body with how Draco was starting to move. "Even before I knew what this was, when we were just kids I—I wanted you so badly. I never thought I could actually have you. You're too," Harry searched for the word, a harder task than he'd thought it would be with dick in his arse. "You're just too special for me."
Draco's heart softened while his cock only got harder to hear this. "Harry," he breathed, drawing back his hips and sinking them in again, a first experimental thrust that had the both of them reeling and panting. "You have no idea how special you are. Daddy's special boy—come here, come here."
Draco leaned forward and scooped Harry up in his arms, guiding his legs with his hand so they could wrap around his waist. Beneath him Harry trembled, too afraid to speak lest Draco take it back. Could he really be that to Draco?"
"Daddy's special boy," Draco repeated, voice darker to ease out and slam right back into him with force this time.
Harry called out with a pitched yell, his arms flying to wrap around Draco's neck. "Daddy…"
"That's right, Daddy's here…" Draco snapped his hips back again, and again, establishing a brutal pace right out of the gate. To feel Harry squirm beneath him, to feel his walls clench and tighten around each thrust, was more special than Draco and his aristocratic vocabulary knew how to articulate.
Holding back nothing now Draco worked his hips forward, grinding the tip deep inside of Harry before pulling back for the next thrust until he established a punishing rhythm on Harry's neglected hole. He was going to feel him for days after at this rate. "Don't stop," Harry urged him on, nails digging into Draco's back. "Don't you dare stop."
"Don't you dare come," Draco countered seeing how into the rocking motions Harry had gotten, but still he did not stop. "You are a tight little cocksleeve, and I want to play with you more before you're spent."
Draco thrust into him and Harry saw stars. A cocksleeve, yes, just a toy for Draco to use—the word alone had made Harry's dick begin to weep between them. "I won't come," Harry told him, words punctuated by the slap of their skin. "Not until Daddy says, I promise."
"Aw, he promises," Draco observed with a wheezy laugh. "You do try your best to be a good boy, don't you?" His back muscles were tense, sweat dripping between his shoulderblades to keep up the repetitive motion of fucking himself into Harry.
"I do," Harry answered almost petulantly, now purposefully clenching around Draco to hear him groan about it. "I want to be your good boy." And with his legs hooked around Draco and Draco easing inside of him Harry thought he was getting damn well close to it at least.
What Draco did next was unexpected. He reached between their legs and wrapped his hand tight around Harry's length to draw a surprised yelp from him.
"Daddy," Harry called out as his hand began to move up and down in slow, purposeful strokes. His eyes rolled back at how delicious the overstimulation was.
"Feeling close, are we, Harry? That's too bad." Draco withdrew his hand.
"Daddy!"
Draco chuckled, speeding up his pace so that the slapping noises were erratic now. "You don't have permission yet, sweetling." He broke to drag in a ragged breath. "Maybe if you ask nicely enough I'll give it to you."
"Please," Harry started begging immediately, finding it hard to have his usual cloak of shame over him when thrown on his back in a bra and socks taking cock like he was born to. "Please, Daddy, I want to come."
Draco grinned, saying nothing as he mercilessly ground his hips in deep save the sounds of his groans.
"Please, please can I come?"
Draco reached down and played with Harry's cockhead. "No, not yet, pet."
The overstimulation was enough to drive a man mad. "Please!" Harry called out, now having to consciously hold back the buildup of heat within him threatening to burst. "Please, Daddy, if you let me come I'll do anything for you!"
"Anything?" Draco removed his hand. "Now that's interesting."
"Anything," Harry repeated desperately, whining at the absence of sensation. It was like every time he was getting close enough Draco was pulling away, all while pounding his hole with reckless abandon. "Daddy please, please, I'm your comeslut, remember? You can do whatever you want in me."
Draco smirked savagely above him, looking down on Harry as his merciless master. "And I intend to, dearie," Draco confirmed with a slap to Harry's arse as he fucked him.
"Ah!" Harry's nails dug deeper, silent pleas for relief as even his toes curled under.
"Hmmm," Draco hummed and had it turn to a moan with how tight Harry still was after all of this work to open him. Draco was closing in on his orgasm though he wished he wasn't—he wanted this moment to last forever, to always be the one fucking Harry Potter so hard he offered anything in exchange for sweet release. "Maybe you've been good enough."
"Oh, please, please Daddy, please I'll be so good now and always, I'll be your good boy and you can fuck me however you like just—just please let me come!" Harry's weeping cock was now generously oozing precome, the movement of their fucking forcing the beads to trickle down his length.
Draco reached down for a last time, clamping hard around Harry's cock and tugging. "Who's your Daddy?" Draco demanded. This couldn't last forever but he'd make a hell of a memory of it.
"You are! You're my Daddy, Draco, fuck…"
"Who's your Daddy?"
"You're my Daddy!"
"That's right," Draco growled. His hips had sped up, losing all sense of rhythm to blindly push forward into the lubricated heat around him. He knew he was leaking inside of Harry and didn't have much time left himself. "Come on, one more time: Who's your Daddy?"
"You are!" Harry practically screamed, body convulsing to hold back his orgasm.
"Then come for Daddy," Draco hissed. "Do it now."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He let out a strangled moan that was almost Draco's name, shooting his load between them in thick white ropes as Draco continued to fuck him.
A few thrusts later and Draco was done in as well, filling the cavern with his seed as he'd promised he would. He rode out the sensation until he couldn't anymore, release bringing a prick of tears to the corners of his eyes. Sensation still swept all over his body, aftershocks riding the last of his pleasure and sapping him of all the energy he'd used at once.
"Nghrk," said Draco, lowering himself gently so as not to crush Harry beneath his weight.
"Stay," Harry demanded, keeping his arms locked tight before he realized he wasn't in any position to be giving commands. "Please?"
Draco laughed breathlessly. He slid out of Harry but otherwise stopped trying to move, cradling him in his arms. "Is this good? Not too heavy?"
"Just right," Harry responded, hugging tighter the weighted blanket that was Draco Malfoy on top of him.
Draco settled in some more, resting his head in the crook of Harry's neck. "Good, good…" Draco let his eyes close for a moment, exhaustion washing over him. He couldn't rest long, though, not when Harry needed his immediate attention. "Such a good boy," he murmured, moving up to pepper his cheeks with kisses using his nose as a bridge between them.
"I am?" Harry asked, voice hopeful.
"Yes, of course. Did you not hear me? You're Daddy's special, special good boy." Draco kissed his chin. "You did so well, took everything I gave you and ran with it. You're an excellent playmate, Harry, quite imaginative. When you promised me 'anything' I had to keep from coming right then and there."
"The promise stands," Harry said with a little laugh, he too moving to get more comfortable in Draco's arms. He rested his forehead against Draco's. "That… That was incredible. Anything else you have in mind, well, let's just say you've got my vote of confidence."
Then it was Draco's turn to laugh. He kissed Harry's temples before moving back to relaxing their foreheads together. Harry seemed to like this, this meeting of the minds, and Draco was quite interested in learning about what exactly Harry liked to better 'torture' him with. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You needed that. Hell, I needed that."
"So, I can stay in your bed tonight?" Harry asked to reconfirm because there was no way in hell he was going back to that guest room if he had any say in it.
"Of course."
"Good." Harry reached behind himself and unclasped the bra with some effort. Once Draco caught on to what he was doing he helped Harry take the socks off, too, tossing them to the side where his panties had been discarded. "Thank you," Harry said, for the help and for getting him these clothes in the first place. "I did need that."
"And there's more where that came from, I assure you," Draco promised. "Now, let's get you something to drink and a snack before—"
"Stay, Daddy," Harry begged, arms clamping around Draco. "All I need is water; you can conjure it."
"Quite averse to me leaving this bed, are you?"
"Yes," Harry admitted with some shame and some pride at once. The two were getting harder to tell the difference between in this Manor.
"Alright then. Let me up a little; I won't leave."
Draco got up slightly, grabbing a glass on the bedside table along with his wand, and after murmuring a spell water came out of the tip to fill the glass perfectly. "Here, drink up." Harry did, and passed the water back to Draco indicating for him to do the same, so he did too.
Harry hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he'd been offered the drink. Snuggling him like this, making sure he was fed and watered not unlike a beloved houseplant—was this the mythical aftercare he'd read about? His head was still swimming, and he could only think of Draco as 'Daddy' now as if he'd forgotten the name of his old school rival.
"How are you feeling?" Draco asked, pressing a hand to Harry's forehead for his temperature—it was normal.
"Good, Daddy," Harry murmured, the word so delicious in his mouth now that he wanted to add it to every sentence he spoke. "Just stay here with me, that's all I need."
"Then you shall have it, little love." Draco settled back down beside him and indicated for Harry to turn around. "Be my little spoon?"
"Yes, Daddy," Harry responded quickly, nothing sounding better. He got on his side and felt Draco's flat chest press against his back, their legs tangling together atop the sheets with both still too warm from sex to consider going underneath them yet.
Draco took in a deep, long breath and Harry instinctively repeated the action. Draco smiled, hand coming up to smooth back Harry's damp hair in slow, repetitive motions. "You were excellent. Truly," Draco reminded him.
Harry smiled, wriggling back up against Draco. "You, too. Now this is a tucking in."
Draco laughed. "Yes, well. I can still sing songs and tell you stories and bring the covers up when you want," he half-joked about all of those things.
"…You sing?" Harry asked curiously.
"Uh," Draco stammered. "Well, yes, I can sing. Most people can, it's just the quality of tone that's the issue…"
"Can I hear it?" Harry's voice was so small. "Please, Daddy?"
Oh, how could Draco ever resist a request like that? Harry was wicked, truly, as Draco learned his body so did Harry in return and he knew Draco couldn't resist begging attached to his title.
Draco sighed. It was a good thing they weren't looking each other in the eye because his face was getting awfully red. Using his singing voice—he wasn't sure if anyone had heard him sing in years. "Okay. One song."
Harry wriggled with delight.
Draco cleared his throat. If this was what his good boy wanted at bedtime then he'd get it. He started at first just by humming an old, familiar tune. Harry could feel the vibrations of his throat behind him.
It was a song that Narcissa had sung to Draco when he was a boy, a slow, lilting tune: Brahms' Lullaby.
"Lullaby, and goodnight, in the skies stars are bright," Draco sang, voice low and private for only Harry to hear. "May the moon's silvery beams, bring you sweet dreams…"
Harry's eyes burned something fierce to hear the opening words. Draco Malfoy was singing him a lullaby, and his voice was like an angel's. Nobody had ever tucked Harry in, nobody had sang to him, kissed him, hugged him for so long he was starving, ravenous to any scrap of affection thrown his way. Being showered in it like this was almost overwhelming.
"Close your eyes now and rest, may these hours be blessed, 'til the sky's bright with dawn, when you wake with a yawn," Draco went on, his own eyes closing to prevent from looking too misty should Harry look back at him. "Lullaby, and goodnight, my greatest delight, I'll protect you from harm, and you'll wake in my arms."
Draco went on singing, soft and low, and did so until he ran out of verses in his memory. Narcissa had done a better job than he with the words and it still seemed like he had a long way to go, but apparently Harry didn't mind. He'd gone very still to listen, and… what was that?
Draco leaned forward thinking Harry was saying something to hear a stifled little snore. He laughed—had Harry seriously fallen asleep so fast? Wasn't he always saying it was hard for him to do that?
It made Draco all the more proud. He smiled, stopping the song and gently curling closer so as not to wake him with the embrace. He'd just sung Harry Potter to sleep, and Draco was starting to feel the tug of rest on his eyelids as well.
With one last glance at his good boy Draco closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift further and further off still, the words of the song playing in his head until he, too, was drawn into a deep, restful sleep.