Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been mine, never will be mine – I'm just playing with them and will return them in more or less the same condition I found them in.
WARNING: Dubcon, blackmail, coercion, slash (boyxboy), EWE, Hogwarts 8th Year, happy ending!
EXTRA WARNING: For mature audiences only, rated M for a reason.
Summary: There's lots of things a former Death Eater on probation shouldn't do, getting caught breaking the rules is high amongst them.
Chapter 4
The next morning, Draco didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed Potter had left.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to tame it a little as he considered that not only had Potter been acting weird, he was acting strange too.
Some of it couldn't be helped, he guessed. His situation was far from normal.
In a normal situation, he'd never allow himself to be pushed around and bullied. Not by uppity little gits who seemed to think they were better than he was just because of the House they had been placed in and not by Potter who caught him breaking the rules. It wasn't even the first time that had happened.
No, it wasn't normal and all because of a stupid ruling by the stupid Ministry that left him powerless to even defend himself.
He rolled out of the bed, only to pause and look down in horror as he realised that just like every other morning for weeks now – his boxers were a cold, sticky mess. Had he- While Potter-!?
He closed his eyes with mortification and prayed it had happened after Potter left the room.
See! Not normal! His life had become some kind of messed up, determined-to-fuck-with-Draco's-head, alternate reality!
And it was turning him into a despondent, libidinous idiot.
A quick Scouring Charm cleaned his boxers as he pulled on the clothes he had worn the day before. A hair brush was helpfully sitting on the bedside table and he pulled it through his hair.
He felt refreshed for the first time in... a long time. Like he had slept properly.
When was the last time he had a full nights sleep?
He looked around the room he had been so scared to enter but had slept so well in.
When was the last time he hadn't felt scared?
Before his Father was first sent to Azkaban? Before he met The Dark Lord for the first time and realised he wasn't as amazing as his Father had always claimed?
He left the room and watched as the door slowly melted away, leaving a blank stretch of wall once more. He slowly wandered down the corridors and stairs, looking out the window to see the sun high up and realised it was later than he had thought.
It was nearly lunch time. He hurried down to the dungeons and changed into clean clothes before going back up to eat in the Great Hall.
He was faced with Potter standing in the entrance way, surrounded by a Gryffindor gaggle and automatically lowered his head so as not to be seen.
Noticing his own behaviour, he lifted his head and met Potter's eyes. Potter who was watching him from above the crowd of his younger House mates.
"Potter." He greeted with a nod, forcing himself to sound calm as he decided not to cower.
He wasn't going to be scared any more.
"Malfoy." Potter greeted him back, not ignoring him, sounding like it was perfectly normal to greet him back.
Had he been ignoring Draco because Draco had been ignoring him? Avoiding Draco because Draco avoided him?
A few of the Gryffindors whispered something Draco couldn't quite catch but heard enough of to know was derogatory. Potter's head snapped around to glare at them and they quivered under his look, falling silent and looking away from Draco.
He looked back at Draco and that dark amusement was playing around the corners of his eyes and lips. Strangely, it didn't seem like it was directed at him but shared with him. Potter nodded and turned into the Great Hall, Gryffindor gaggle trailing him like ducklings.
"Where were you? I've been looking for you all morning!" Pansy hissed worriedly at him as he took his seat at the Slytherin table.
"I woke up early and went for a walk. Lost track of time." Draco replied nonchalantly as he took a slice of pie.
Pansy filled the rest of his plate for in between complaints and demands for him to let her know in future. Apparently, she had been worried he'd been kidnapped by Gryffindors.
He didn't tell her he had been.
A letter was dropped in front of him.
Tonight. Seventh floor.
Draco was surprised. He'd never seen Potter two nights in a row before. He looked up and found green eyes looking him, he nodded and Potter nodded back before he looked away.
Draco realised with a start that Potter had been looking at him, watching him quite a bit recently. When did that start? He hadn't noticed, it felt too normal.
Draco frowned at his plate. Why did Potter watching him feel normal? Now he was thinking about it... It seemed like Potter had been looking back at him across this hall for years.
The day passed slowly, time dragged as he waited for classes to finish and night to draw in.
It was probably stupid of him but he was almost looking forward to seeing Potter. He was still nervous but he wasn't as scared as he had been.
He was terrified Potter might go back to the dark, scary version of himself Draco had been dealing with up until the night before but he stomped it down.
He'd already decided not to be scared.
For all of Potter's insidiously domineering behaviour, he hadn't actually hurt Draco once. He had done a lot to him but he could have done a whole lot more. So far there had been nothing but a bit of kissing, frottage and voyeurism.
Perhaps he was relying on Potter's Gryffindor tendencies too much but he was almost sure that if he actually told Potter to stop, he would.
With his decision to stop being afraid came the enlightenment that he didn't think Potter would tell McGonagall about him either. Potter had known he was up to plenty of stuff in the past and had never set a teacher on him, he'd always dealt with it, with Draco, himself.
As he stood on the seventh floor, waiting outside a stretch of blank wall, he wondered why Potter had decided to blackmail him. What was he getting out of this, apart from messing with Draco?
Draco frowned as he thought about it. It didn't make sense. Potter had never been the kind to play mind games, he was a simple guy – a fact Draco had been taking the piss out of for years. When he was happy, he laughed. When he was sad, he cried. When he was angry, he'd punch Draco in the face.
He thought back over that first night as Potter had stood there silently looking at him. Potter warning him that smoking was against the rules. Potter walking away and Draco... being the one to call him back and make a deal... Potter had just agreed to keep his secrets...
His eyes widened as he ran through every word they had shared... Potter hadn't once threatened to tell McGonagall about him! Only once had he mentioned breaking their deal off but even then he hadn't threatened to tell anyone!
Had Draco caused all this himself?
Damn.
It seemed like Draco hadn't been thinking clearly for quite a while.
Was this the effect of not enough sleep and too much stress?
Potter arrived just then, looked him over and turned to pace in front of the wall. He opened the door and walked in.
Draco quickly followed, barely noticing that the room was the same as the night before.
"It's unusual to see you around for two nights in a row, Potter." Draco opened with as the door closed behind him, watching Potter's reaction.
"I managed to get some time off." Potter shrugged, unfastening his cloak and dropping it onto the sofa.
"Time off from what?" The surprising answer overtook his intended conversation.
"Curious?" Potter smirked as he walked towards Draco.
"Yes. No. Wait!" Draco wanted to slap himself for that response. "You were never going to tell McGonagall about me smoking, were you?"
Potter's eyes darkened at the accusatory question and Draco flinched. Perhaps he had been wrong about that.
"Of course not."
"Then- Then why!?" Draco exclaimed.
"Because you pissed me off." Draco shivered at the cold, hard tone. He really didn't understand this Potter who switched from calm indifference to playful teasing to cold anger so quickly and easily.
He backed up as Potter continued to advance on him, fear warring with dumbfounded anger of his own.
"What the hell did I even do!?" He exploded in exasperation. "I've spent all year staying out of your way! I haven't done anything to you or anyone else for that matter! I've stayed quiet, not caused any problems! I haven't insulted anyone, pulled any pranks or even bumped into anyone in a corridor! I've put up with all the shit that's been thrown at me, ignored everything I would have normally cursed your precious Gryffindorks black and blue for! What the hell could I have possibly done to piss you off!?"
"That first night, I seriously considered hitting you, you know." Potter said, closing the distance between them just as Draco's back collided with the door behind him. Potter's hands slammed down on the door on either side of his head, trapping him but not touching him. "You really pissed me off, standing there, shaking, offering to do anything I wanted. You'd have made that offer to anyone that had caught you, wouldn't you?"
"I-" Draco didn't know what to say to that. Would he have said that to just anyone else?
"You looked so fucking scared. What happened to all that Malfoy arrogance and pride? And why? Because you were scared of the Ministry, Azkaban? I made sure you didn't end up there before, didn't I? Do you really think I'd let them send you to that hole after everything that's already happened?"
Draco was mesmerised by those burning green eyes staring harshly at him. Why was it that even though Potter's tone was so cold, Draco felt so warm? And what was that supposed to mean? Didn't let him end up, wouldn't let him end up in Azkaban...
"So, there you were, shaking like a rabbit before a fox. In fifth year, I might have enjoyed that – back when we were still fighting and butting heads. This year it was just annoying. You don't fight back or insult me any more. It's boring. So, I called you on it and for a moment, just a moment, that fire was back in your eyes and I was instantly hard, I wanted to tease you a bit. I bit your ear wanting to get a taste of you and a good reaction and to my surprise – you didn't push me away, you just gaped with these big, shocked eyes.
"I couldn't help myself, I kissed you and you – you kissed me right back, grabbing my shirt and pushing yourself against me, grinding against me like you wanted me just as much. I wanted to bend you over and take you right there. The noises you made were almost enough to make me cum in my pants as I pinched your nipple. You clung to me as you moaned and came against my thigh. Then you were back to looking at me with those stupidly shocked and scared eyes and I – I thought that perhaps I had taken it too far. So I left, promising to keep your stupid secret – as if I'd let you go to Azkaban over a bloody cigarette."
Draco's whole body was shaking but fear was the last emotion on him mind right then. Potter... wanted him? As in, actually wanted him? Not just to mess with him, take advantage of his secret and have some fun at his expense..? What the hell..!?
"I was a mess the next day, couldn't get you out of my mind. Kept thinking about how you felt, sounded, tasted. I didn't hear a thing that was said to me all day, just wanted to find you again. But just like you have all year, you avoided me. Wasn't until last lesson I managed to pin you down in class, even managed to get a seat next to you. You completely ignored me as I sat there, all too aware of the heat of your arm, sound of you breathing, the smell of your shampoo. I passed you that note and you didn't even glance at me."
Huh? What!? Wasn't it Potter who hadn't looked at him..?
"Next night finally arrived and you just sat there, still shaking and looking too scared to even take a sip of the drink I'd hoped to use as an ice breaker. Could barely control myself as I used your stupid 'I'll-do-anything' offer to make you sit on me. I couldn't even taste the Butterbeer we shared, too lost in the way your lips took the bottle, your throat as you swallowed, the way you looked at me, all heat and want, moaning into each kiss. Next thing I knew, we were on the floor, you were under me, clinging to me. The way you moaned as I bit your neck or pulled your hair was enough to make me lose all reason. Never would have guessed you like it rough."
Umm... Why did this sound the same but so different to how Draco remembered it?
"Couldn't see you for much too long after that but when I finally did, there you were muttering to yourself about kissing me as you looked longingly at those cigarettes."
He'd been muttering!? The hell...
"You look unbelievably sexy when you smoke, did you know that? You narrow your eyes like it's the most exquisite flavour, lips delicately holding that small filter in a kiss I want to steal for myself. You tilt your head back as you exhale, like your inviting my to sample that perfect throat. I almost came as I watched you, desperate to touch you, taste you. So, I told you to drop your trousers, planning to put my own mouth to use as I watched you smoke – but you looked so damn scared, again. So, I made do with just watching you touch yourself, fag hanging from between those perfect, pink lips, looking back at me through the smoke. Couldn't completely control myself though, had to kiss you, taste you as you came all over the floor."
Draco's knees were feeling weak, his dick was hard. Did Potter just say he wanted to blow him!? He wished he had...
"Next time I saw you, I planned on finally getting a proper taste of you. Wasn't going to wait any longer. You clearly wanted me as much as I wanted you. I almost exploded when I saw you surrounded by the idiots I share a House with." Potter paused with a dark smirk. "They really won't be a problem for you again."
Seemed like Potter really had said something to them. That warm feeling increased as he realised Potter really was protecting him. His pride did take a bit of a hit at knowing he needed it, though. He wondered what exactly Potter had said to make him smirk like that in reminiscence.
"Worked my arse off the last fortnight so I could get this whole weekend off. Planned everything out, spent hours thinking about what I wanted to do with you. Then I saw you, you looked like you hadn't slept since the last time I did. Honestly, if those bags under your eyes get any heavier, you're going to start noticing the difference on the scales."
Draco glared at that, wanted to point out whose fault it was he wasn't sleeping properly but he didn't want to stop Potter from talking. Didn't want to turn this into an argument when that cold look had been replaced with something much softer. He liked those gentle eyes that were smiling at him, liked this alternate version of events to what he remembered. Just how much had he misunderstood? He'd been so sure Potter still hated him...
As Potter spoke, Draco watched his expressions. When he was angry, his eyes weren't coldly intimidating, they flashed with fire. He'd already known that, for years he'd seen Potter's angry expression – why had he been so mistaken? When Potter spoke about being turn on, his eyes turned into that cold, intimidating look – which suddenly didn't look so much cold as forcibly repressed. They flashed then too but with a different heat.
Had he really misread Potter that much?
"I didn't realise you'd be so scared to come back to this room as you were last night. I was actually impressed when you walked in. Reminded me of the old you, refusing to back down and stubbornly determined to do what you wanted."
... Seemed like Potter had misread him as well. There had been no determination or anything, he'd just found himself walking in before he knew what he was doing...
"Wanted to push you down and strip you off, do all the things I've been dreaming about. How was I supposed to do that when you looked so worn out, though. So, made do with the next best thing and spent the night holding you. Wanted to do that for a while too."
"So... let me get this straight." Draco took a breath as he forced the tension from his shoulders, trying to set his confused mind in order. "You don't hate me."
"No." Potter quirked an eyebrow like he was an idiot.
"You're not just doing this to mess with me."
"You think I'd kiss just anyone?" Potter actually sounded offended.
"You really want to do... this, with me? Kissing... and stuff."
"Shouldn't that be obvious?" Again, Potter looking at him like he was an idiot.
"You don't want me to be expelled and go to Azkaban? Even after everything I did?" That was hard to believe given their history.
"Never. You won't go to Azkaban, I already said that didn't I? I won't let them send you there."
"You make it sound like you could stop them." Draco huffed a hopeless laugh.
"I can." Potter sounded sure of it.
"How? How could you have any say in the matter?" Draco didn't believe him but he... appreciated the sentiment behind it.
"Easy. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, remember. The Ministry's falling all over themselves to keep me happy. I don't actually like it much but I'll use it if I have to." Potter shrugged, pulling away and catching his hand to lead him from the door and towards the bed. "You wanted to know where I've been disappearing to, right?"
"Yeah." Draco looked at him in askance at the sudden change of conversation as he let himself be led. "You're not here more than you are."
"I'm going through Auror training, amongst other things. Kingsley's Minister for Magic now. You wouldn't know but he's a friend, we fought together. He was part of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix." Potter unfastened Draco's cloak and pushed it from his shoulders. "I'm helping him with the Ministry, I've even become their poster boy – on the condition that I approve of what they do. My name currently holds quite a bit of weight with the Wizarding World and I'm happy to help a friend. It also means I can pretty much get my own way, as long as I don't push it too far. Keeping you out of Azkaban is actually quite simple."
Draco let Potter push him down on the bed. His legs fell open to let Potter kneel between them as he lowered himself over Draco.
"I want you, Draco Malfoy. I like you. A lot." Draco shivered at hearing his full name on those lips. "But, if you don't want this, I'll understand. I won't hold it or use it against you. I'm not going to make things hard for you or let you get sent to Azkaban, even if you don't want me. So... the question now is, do you?"
Draco took a moment to think it over. He didn't need the time to think about it really, the fact that he was lying on this bed was already his answer. He did need the time to consider his response, though.
"You... are an idiot, Potter. And a complete arse." Potter's eye twitched and his eyebrows lowered but he waited for the rest of Draco's words. "Your communication skills are severely lacking, you have a shitty attitude and you still have stupid hair. You've given me the wrong idea about this whole thing from the start."
"Uh... I'm not sure if that means you like me or not." Potter said, eyes narrowing.
"Because of you I'm stressed and sleep deprived, confused and questioning my sexuality. I'm supposed to be straight. I'm supposed to finish school, get married and make little Malfoy's to carry on my name. I'm not supposed to want a stupid Gryffindor, with stupid hair and a stupid scar, who makes me angry, excited, nervous and... aroused... but... I do."
Draco cursed the heat he could feel in his cheeks by the end of his rant. He looked aside, unable to hold intense Potter's gaze.
Potter caught his chin and forced his head back as he crashed their lips together, pushing his tongue into Draco's mouth and stealing all control from him.
"And we're going to talk about this domineering behaviour of yours too." He gasped as Potter finally released his mouth.
"About how much you like it?" Potter leered as he tugged gently at Draco's hair.
Draco scowled but a moan still escaped.
"Not the point." He snapped breathlessly.
"We can talk about anything you want. Later." Potter grinned as he unbuttoned Draco's shirt, mouth moving down Draco's throat to nip at his collarbone as fingers slid across his chest to a nipple.
Draco writhed under his touch as he watched him, raising his hands to finally touch Potter back. He ran one hand through messy hair, marvelling at it's softness as he held Potter's mouth against him. The other he used to begin unbuttoning Potter's shirt.
He wasn't sure what the future would hold. They would have a lot to talk about, work through. He didn't know how long this... whatever it was would last but for now – he wasn't scared.
For now, he was looking forward to more than just the end of the year.
He might even enjoy what was left of it.
End.
Thanks for reading to the end, please R&R
