Chapter Three: Halloween

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have far more claim on me than I do on them. Sadly.

Warnings: Sex; glorious gay sex

A/N: I am SO SORRY that I haven't updated in so long! I got REALLY sick for a while; I was hospitalized and everything. Now I don't have as much internet access as I used to, so it's hard to get time to write. Then add to that that it's nearly impossible to write a sex scene when you've got someone looking over your shoulder every time you try to write, and I think it's understandable that this took a while to finish. :P But, I am back, and will continue updating my stories as quickly as I can. :)

Sorry for the wait, and I love you all! :D

I don't want to live a lie
But I don't want to say goodbye
And I can't let you go even though it's over
I just can't let you go
Though your love is growing colder
One look in my eyes and you'd realize
That you got my heart in your hands
Won't you let me know something more
Where did we go wrong?

Rainbow - Can't Let You Go

October 31st, 1998

Harry smiled weakly as he faced Ron and Hermione's latest matchmaking attempt. They had noticed he looked rather forlorn whenever the couples around him acted like couples; and once he'd finally convinced them that he wasn't regretting not getting back together with Ginny, they'd taken it upon themselves to Find Him Someone.

Harry loved them; he really did, but they were driving him crazy and refused to accept that he might really mean it when he said he didn't need them to find him someone. So it was that, almost every other day, he was forced into the company of some awestruck Harry Potter worshipper who wanted to date him.

Whenever Harry tried to protest the fourth addition to their trio, both of them insisted that he should just spend time with these people and see if any of them clicked. Most were girls, but there had been one gay boy and one bisexual boy. Considering that the general attitude of the wizarding world towards homosexuality was along the lines of "don't ask, don't tell", Harry had to admit it was pretty brave of them. He had no idea how his friends were finding these people, and suspected he'd be better off not knowing. At the end of every one of these days, he would pull Hermione aside and hiss, "Absolutely not. Not in this or any other lifetime," into her ear.

He'd learned early on that while no matter how emphatic he was about not needing their matchmaking efforts they wouldn't listen to him, if he was truly and deeply vehement about not wanting to date the person they'd just forced him to spend all of his free time with that day, he could avoid having them bring the same person around again and giving whoever it was unfounded hopes. Unfortunately for Harry, no amount of vehemence could get them to let him ditch whoever it was prematurely, and his only escape lay in claiming earlier and earlier bedtimes.

He only escaped having his bedroom invaded by insisting that Draco didn't like to have his space disturbed, and that Harry had agreed not to bring visitors into their room. Ron had tried to grouch over the unfairness of Malfoy ordering Harry around, and Harry had cut him off by reminding Ron that Draco was his friend and added that he didn't mind. He said, glaring pointedly, that he could definitely see the value in refusing to share your space any more than you absolutely had to.

"It's nice to know I have a sanctuary where I can go to get away from everyone."

"Except the ferret," snapped Ron, feeling mildly hurt that Harry would want to get away from him.

"Yes, well, he's my friend and we hardly ever spend time together since school started; not to mention that he never tries to set me up with anyone, so I don't mind."

Harry wished he could tell his friends that Draco was the reason none of their matchmaking attempts would work, but he understood Draco's reasons for keeping quiet, and respected his boyfriend enough to honour them. He also realised, considering how hard they tried to convince him that simply being friends with Malfoy was A Really Bad Idea, that telling them he and Draco were more than friends would probably be catastrophic. It might be enough to rip their fledgling relationship apart. So he was actually grateful to Draco for making him wait to tell his friends.

For now, though, he simply offered Amy Farnsworth, a seventh year Hufflepuff, a smile that was really a bit more like a grimace and tried to pay enough attention to her story so that he wouldn't be completely lost when he was expected to comment on it. He didn't want to hurt her feelings by revealing that he'd been woolgathering.

"-And then I told her that I'd never heard of a charm that could do that, and she said-"

He had a colossal headache coming on, and found himself resenting the way that rules about which table students were required to sit at had been relaxed in the name of interhouse unity. Ron and Hermione used it to have each and every one of his "dates" join them at meals, regardless of house.

"-But I just couldn't believe that it was possible – I mean, would you have ever thought that was possible, Harry?"

"I'm discovering that a lot of things I never would have thought were possible, in fact are not only quite possible, but also rather probable," he told her solemnly. He shoved the last bite of his supper in his mouth, and stood.

"Where you off to, Harry?" Ron blinked at him in astonishment. "They haven't even served pudding yet!"

"Migraine," Harry replied shortly. "I'm gonna go lie down, alright? Nice to meet you, Amy," he added, giving the girl a nod. At Hermione's brightening face he mouthed across the table and over Amy's head, "Over my dead body".

He fled from the Great Hall, clutching his temples between his forefingers and gritting his teeth. He hurried to the infirmary, hoping to beg a headache draught from Madam Pomfrey. His one comfort during these awful meals was the ability to look over to the Slytherin table and see Draco laughing at him.

Draco always seemed to find his predicament hilarious, though he'd gotten quite jealous on both occasions where Harry's companion happened to be a boy. But tonight Draco had been absent from the Slytherin table. He wondered if Draco was feeling poorly as well, and if he would be lying down in their room. If so, Harry would run down to the kitchens to get him some food; if not, he would use the Mauraders' Map to track his boyfriend down.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Harry called as he stepped into the hospital wing. "May I have a headache draught, please? I have a terrible migraine."

"My goodness, Mr. Potter!" The mediwitch moved to her potions cabinet. "You've had an unusual number of migraines this year! Do you have any idea as to what might be the cause?"

"Yeah; two causes, named Ron and Hermione."

Madam Pomfrey's lips twitched. "Really, Mr. Potter," she said.

Harry shrugged. "They keep forcing me to spend time with random people, hoping I'll start dating one of them. They refuse to listen to what I want. What I want is to be left alone. Can't you diagnose me with something that makes it terribly dangerous for me to date anyone? Please?"

There was a suspicious choking sound from behind a curtained off bed, as if someone was unsuccessfully attempting to stifle laughter.

Madam Pomfrey smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid all I can do is give you a headache draught when you need one, dear." She hurried over with his potion, and Harry downed it gratefully.

"Thanks. Guess I'll just go lie down, now," Harry said, handing her back the empty vial.

"I'll go with you," called Draco's voice, and Draco himself stepped out from behind the curtain. "I can leave now, right Madam Pomfrey?"

"Let me make sure, Mr. Malfoy," she said, and ran a few diagnostic spells over his right arm. She nodded, satisfied. "Good as new!"

Draco smiled. "Thank you."

He turned to Harry, who was gaping. "Shall we go, oh Desperate-To-Stay-Single-Scarhead?" he smirked. He strode towards the doors, but Harry caught his arm.

"Why were you in here? What happened?"

"It was nothing," Draco said evasively.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Draco," he said evenly. "Don't lie to me. Yes, when Buckbeak scratched you, you behaved as though your arm would need to be amputated; so I should know you better than to believe you would downplay an injury. But if it was really nothing, then why would Madam Pomfrey have needed to make sure you were okay before she would let you leave?"

"Maybe I don't want you fighting my battles for me," Draco glared.

"I stick up for my friends – all of them. And everyone here knows you're my friend," Harry glared back. "Besides what would you do if it were me?"

Draco blinked, as though the thought had never occurred to him. He gave Harry an apologetic grin. "Smith tripped me when I was coming down the stairs for supper. I fell and broke my arm, so I got to dine in this lovely facility," he made a sweeping gesture towards the hospital wing.

"The fucking bastard," Harry fumed.

"Let me take my own revenge, alright?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded, grudgingly, but added, "I'm still gonna yell at him in front of everyone for hurting one of my friends."

"You do that," Draco said, looking amused. "Now, shall we go?" Harry nodded and they set out for the Eighth Year's tower.

December 27th, 2017

"You're leaving?" Harry's eyes widened in panic.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"But…" Harry's voice trailed off.

"But what?"

"Malfoy's bringing Scorpius over this afternoon. I was sort of counting on you to handle it. You know, like you handled the owls arranging it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry. He's just dropping off his son. Once he drops Scorpius off, he'll leave and you won't have to see him until he comes back to pick him up. You're not going to be sitting around reminiscing and catching up on old times. It's not going to kill you."

Harry turned away, sulking. He didn't know how to explain to Ginny just how desperate he was to avoid being alone with the other man – and why.

He didn't want her to realise that he still wasn't over Draco. Their relationship had enough problems without the added insult of that fact. Although he wondered, privately, if she already knew; or at least suspected.

Sometimes he wondered why they were still married. They certainly wouldn't be, if it wasn't for the kids. It wasn't like they'd had sex in years, certainly.

Harry sighed, closing his eyes and wishing that he knew what to say. Wishing that there was some way to explain to Ginny why he was so afraid of being around Draco. He didn't want to hurt her, if she was still in love with him. And if she wasn't, and wouldn't mind, he didn't know how to explain to her that he did. He would never be anyone's dirty little secret ever again.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Ginny said, voice quiet. "You know I wouldn't leave now if it weren't important. But this is the only time that works for Ilsa Vane to do the interview, and it'll really be good for my career if I can get it."

"I know, Gin," Harry said, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that." He forced a smile. "Hopefully she's more pleasant than her big sister."

They shared a chuckle over the memory of Romilda's desperate attempts at dosing Harry with love potion in his sixth year.

"Alright, well; I'll get going now. See you tomorrow." Ginny kissed him briefly, just a touch of lips, then called the kids in to say goodbye.

Harry watched them with a smile on his face. James, who was acting like he was too old to hug his mother goodbye and trying (unsuccessfully) to offer her a handshake instead; Al, who was less bothered by his mother leaving than he was that she would be missing out on Scorpius' visit; and Lily, who behaved as though her mother had just declared that she was moving to the moon and wouldn't be back for half a year.

And of course, Ginny herself, moving from child to child and handling them all with aplomb. James, by seizing his shoulders and pulling him into a hug despite his protests; Al, by placating him that she would be the one to drop him off at the Manor in the New Year when it was his turn to pay a visit to Scorpius; and Lily, by holding her close and promising both to return soon and to bring a souvenir back from Ireland.

Then she waved, seized her shrunken bag, and flooed away.

The kids wandered out of the room, while Harry stared into the fire, lost in his thoughts.

He'd realised after the first time he and Ginny had slept together that he'd really been naïve when describing himself as bisexual. He wasn't bi. He was gay. While he was capable of having sex with a woman without the aid of potions, but he didn't enjoy it the way he enjoyed sex with a man.

In fact, the highlight of their sex-life for him had been that time shortly after Lily was born, when Ginny had suggested using a strap-on. She'd used it on him, and he'd had the most intense orgasm he'd had throughout their entire relationship, during which he'd buried his face in his pillow to keep from crying out Draco's name aloud. Afterwards he'd cried, and they'd never done it again.

Actually, that was when they stopped sleeping together. They still shared a bed, but they never had sex. Harry wasn't sure if Ginny had lovers on the side or not. He hoped so, for her sake. She deserved to be made to feel desirable, and he simply couldn't do that. No matter how hard he tried he loved her like a sister, not a lover, and it made it very difficult to sleep with her; especially since she lacked the right equipment to get him interested. He simply couldn't acclimate himself to any of it.

He shouldn't have trapped her into this marriage; he knew that now. He shouldn't have put her into the position in the first place. But he was vulnerable and hurting; heartbroken from Draco's betrayal. Ginny was there, and she'd always loved him. In one night of poor judgment, he'd tied her to him.

In hindsight, it was easy to see what a colossal mistake getting married to her had been, but at the time it had made sense. James needed parents who would be a family unit. He needed a mom and dad to raise him together; and wizarding societal mores dictated that illegitimate children were disgraceful.

Harry wasn't about to let his child be raised a social pariah. So he had done what he thought was best. And no matter how unhappy this marriage had made him, at least it had given him his children.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He jumped. He got up and went to answer it.

"Hello, Potter." Draco and Scorpius stood at the door, waiting. Draco was smirking at him, and Scorpius was beaming. With a sigh, Harry bid them enter.

"Hello, Mr. Potter!" Scorpius exclaimed eagerly. "Is Al nearby?" He nearly vibrated in his intensity.

Harry couldn't help smiling. "Yes, his room is up the stairs, third door on the left. Go on up."

"Thank you, sir! Bye, dad!" Scorpius was off like a shot.

"Well, Malfoy, thank you for dropping him off. I'll make sure he's still in one piece when you pick him back up-"

"Aren't you going to offer me tea?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "I hadn't planned on it."

"Why, Potter, I'm hurt!" Although the smirk on his face said otherwise. "May I please have a cup? It's not exactly a short walk down past your wards, and it's frightfully cold out there. Godric's Hollow isn't exactly known for its mild winters."

A twinge of guilt nipped at Harry, because he'd refused to open his floo to the Malfoys, but he dismissed it and decided to make up for it by offering Draco some tea. He glanced at the other man, noticing how his reddened cheeks and nose were somehow all the more attractive with his pale skin and white-blond hair. His grey eyes were positively shining. Harry gritted his teeth. It should be a sin to look that good, he decided. He turned and stalked away.

"The kitchen's this way, Malfoy."

"The kitchen?"

"Unless you'd like to take your tea to go, you'll drink it in the kitchen, where I'm comfortable."

"Of course." Draco sounded like he was smothering a laugh as he followed Harry.

"Al!"

Albus looked up, his face lighting up as he caught sight of his best friend. Scorpius' cheeks were bright red, and even the tip of his nose was ruddy, evidence of his long walk in the cold. Scorp looked so cute when he was half-frozen. Al didn't bother examining that thought; he was barely conscious of thinking it.

"You look like you're freezing!" A flash of annoyance ran through Al – after all, his dad was being completely unreasonable with his refusal to open the floo for the Malfoys. "Let's go down to the sitting room where you can sit by the fire and warm up. I'll make you a cup of tea if you want, too."

"Thanks." Scorp was doing that thing where he ducked his head and blushed and glanced shyly at Al from the corner of his eyes, and it made Al grin. Merlin; he'd missed his friend. He hadn't realised how used to the other boy's presence he'd gotten already, over the course of one term.

"Let's go." He grabbed Scorp's hand and tugged him down back out of his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He raised a brow when he saw Mr. Malfoy sitting at the table, watching as his dad banged around making tea. His dad had his back to them, and Mr. Malfoy hadn't noticed them yet. He was too busy staring at Al's dad.

The look on his face was so sad, so longing that it made Al's chest feel tight. He couldn't understand what would make him look like that, though.

Scorp sneezed, behind him, and both of the men in the kitchen jumped. Mr. Malfoy immediately schooled his features into vague amusement, while Al's dad turned to glance guiltily at the doorway.

"Scorpius; I'm so sorry – I hadn't even thought of offering you tea! Would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Potter."

"We'll take ours in the sitting room, alright, Dad?" When his dad looked like he was about to object, he glared. "Because there's a fire in there, and someone made him walk all the way up from the lane in a blizzard!"

Mr. Malfoy snorted in amusement, and Al's dad flushed. "It's not a blizzard," he muttered.

"So, since someone is responsible for my best friend being half frozen, that same someone won't object to us drinking our tea by the fire. Right?"

"Right," muttered Al's dad, face burning with shame. Mr. Malfoy snorted again, and Al's dad glared at him. Rather than being intimidated, this made him throw back his head with laughter.

Al's dad huffed and threw a tea towel at him. Then he turned back to Al and Scorp.

"How do you take your tea, Scorpius?"

"Same as my father, sir."

"Right. Well, I'll give you his cup, and make him a new one. Al drinks his black, so he can have this one since I didn't add anything to it yet." He levitated the two cups over to the boys, who took them and the escape gratefully.

Al thought that his dad looked strange, but he shrugged it off in favour of pampering his best friend.

Harry found himself relaxing. He had been on edge when Draco had insisted on staying. But after their sons had come bumbling into the kitchen, he'd realised that there was no chance of Draco trying any kind of covert seduction with their offspring in the other room, and had relaxed. As conversation flowed between them, more and more easily, he found himself relaxing even more.

It had always been easy to relax with Draco. The other man had long possessed the knack for getting under his skin, in good ways and in bad. Similarly, he'd always known best how to put Harry at ease, when he put his mind to it.

So he was unprepared when he got up to bring their tea things over to the counter, for Draco's voice to suddenly come from right beside his ear.

"You always did forget that this could easily be done with magic."

He stiffened. Draco slid his arms around Harry's waist, and Harry could feel the other man's chuckle vibrating against his back.

"It's one of the things I miss about you, you know. All your little quirks and idiosyncrasies; I miss every last one of them. I remember them constantly."

Harry closed his eyes, fighting against the desire that uncoiled in his belly. "Let me go, Malfoy." His voice didn't come out as steady as he wanted it to, and he couldn't seem to make his limbs co-operate and push Draco away.

"I don't think you really want me to, Harry." He could feel Draco's lips against his ear, and he trembled.

"I think you miss it. Miss us. I think you miss how it feels to be held by a man; loved by one. I bet anything you miss being fucked by one. Do you ever think about that, Harry? How it felt to have me thrusting inside you?"

Harry whimpered, eyes fluttering shut. Images roared to the forefront of his mind, unbidden. A wave of lust enveloped him.

"I think that maybe I should remind you."

Harry stifled a gasp. All thoughts of Ginny and the kids flew from his head; all he could think of was the man who held him in his arms, and how very desperate he was, how very long it had been since he'd felt Draco inside of him.

"Don't worry, Harry. It can be our little secret."

It was these words that saved him. These words, more than anything else; more than the memory of Ginny, the kids, or even the thought that Draco had undoubtedly slept with other men since their breakup, gave Harry the strength to pull away.

He shoved Draco back, folding his arms over his chest and glaring for all he was worth. "Fuck you, Malfoy." Draco looked a mixture of aroused and surprised as he blinked at Harry, pupils blown.

"I was your dirty little secret for five years. I wouldn't touch you now if you were the last man on earth. Now get out of my house!"

He turned and stalked away.

October 31st, 1998

Harry and Draco found themselves in the unusual position of having an entire evening free to spend together. While they spent every night together, they were only occasionally able to sneak away during the day to spend some time alone with each other. The time they could spend together during the day with others around was less than satisfying, as their groups of friends had spent seven years loathing each other and none seemed as eager to forgive and forget as Harry and Draco were.

While the Slytherins were self-serving enough not to want to offend the wizarding world's current heroes now that their reputations had been blackened during the war, they also weren't stupid enough to suck up to them; both because they knew it wouldn't work, and because it would have severely damaged their pride. They simply pretended that none of the enmity of years past had ever existed, and were courteous and polite when forced to interact, and never attempted to interact with the Golden Trio or other Gryffindor war heroes on their own. The Gryffindors – particularly Ron – were considerably less well-behaved, and this kept Harry from attempting to force interaction between the two groups, in an effort to avoid humiliating and further alienating Draco's friends.

Earlier on in the year, Harry had bemoaned the fact that the two of them would never get a chance to spend time together during the day, and said he wished they'd had a way of communicating that was like the DA Galleons. When Draco had asked what those were, Harry had explained, and Draco had gotten a speculative gleam in his eyes. He'd asked to examine Harry's Galleon, and after casting a number of diagnostic spells on it, was able to use a similar charm on a pair of Galleons for himself and Harry that let the two of them send each other messages back and forth.

Now, during the day, they could discreetly send each other messages in order to meet up – if only for a few minutes of stolen kisses. Sometimes they would manage to sneak a whole afternoon together, with the aid of Harry's invisibility cloak. While they frequently made use of their time together with blowjobs and frotting, they spent just as much time – if not more – simply talking. That was what they missed the most, they were finding, from their uninterrupted time together during the summer, was the opportunity to simply talk and enjoy one another's company. They could enjoy sexual activities every night and talk some then, too; but they were unconscious for the bulk of the hours that they were together, and it was difficult for both of them.

The only activity they could enjoy together without having to hide was flying, and even that was limited by the availability of the pitch. As the eighth years were allowed to play on house teams (As per their wager, Harry owed Draco a blowjob when they heard the news), they both practiced with their house teams and taunted one another good naturedly about the results of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match in the new year.

However this evening was a rare treasure for them, in that it gave them hours to spend together before bed. By mutual assent, the first thing they did when they got back to their rooms was to cast their usual locking and silencing charms at the door, to get started by demonstrating how much they'd missed one another since they hadn't spoken all day before meeting up in the hospital wing.

As soon as the door was locked, Draco seized Harry's shoulders and attacked his mouth. Harry moaned, opening his mouth to Draco's assault and twining his arms around his boyfriend's neck. Draco walked him backwards to the bed and toppled the both of them over on it. They kissed frenziedly, sloppily, tearing at one another's clothing in an eagerness to see each other naked during daylight hours without having to hide under an invisibility cloak.

Once their clothes had been shed, their bodies slid together with practiced ease, as their hands slid over shoulders, back, sides, arms, and arses. Draco cupped Harry's face in his hands and kissed him slowly, deeply, and well. He slid his tongue through Harry's lips as smoothly as a knife slides through butter, gliding over the roof of his mouth and wrapping it around Harry's own.

Harry found himself whimpering helplessly into the kiss, clutching the sides of Draco's arms like a drowning man clings to his scrap of driftwood, as though they were the only thing keeping him from being swept away in a sea of his own desire. Draco pulled back and gazed down at him with an expression that was so open, so unbearably tender, that he spoke his sudden epiphany aloud without thinking.

"I love you."

Draco's eyes widened, and Harry felt fear bubble up inside. He hadn't meant to say it; he had simply been so caught off guard by the realisation that he was in love for the first time in his life. He was overwhelmed by the thought of all they had shared, both good and bad; and of everything that was Draco, that it had blindsided him so completely that his defenses were down and he didn't have a chance to make himself stop and think before speaking.

Now he didn't know what to say. He couldn't take it back, but he was afraid of how Draco would react. But Draco surprised him. His face split open into a heart-stopping smile, and he kissed Harry, even more passionately than he had before. He kissed him again, and again, until the two of them were both gasping for air. Draco closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Harry's, whispering, "I love you, too, you silly Gryffindor."

Harry had sucked in a deep breath, and closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught of emotion. He felt joy, elation, and something else. A part of himself that had somehow been holding back without his realisation fell away, and Harry knew what he wanted. He opened his eyes.

"Make love to me, Draco," he asked softly. He felt a little foolish and girly phrasing it the way he did, but that was what he wanted; not just fucking, but an expression of the feelings that they both shared. Draco's eyes flew open and he stared down at Harry in surprise. They'd never actually discussed this, though both of them knew it would come up sooner or later.

"What?" he asked weakly.

"Draco," Harry's mouth curved into a smile at the thought of leaving the Slytherin nearly speechless. "I want you to fuck me."

Draco opened and closed his mouth again, then he swallowed, hard. "I've never…"

"Me neither," Harry said quietly. "You're the only person I've ever gone past kissing with."

Draco blinked. "Really?"

Harry flushed. "I've been a little busy," he defended himself.

Draco smiled, almost shyly. "Well, you're the only person I've ever gone past kissing with, as well. So we're even."

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. "But… I thought you were more experienced than I was! You always acted like it!"

Draco looked a little sheepish. "That was all bravado. I… well, homosexuality is frowned on by purebloods, because it hinders the ability to produce an heir; and since I couldn't have who I wanted, it didn't seem worth it to take risks to be with some other boy. And I'm very definitely gay; it would take a potion for me to be with a girl."

"Oh." Harry tried not to look as disappointed at the thought of Draco wanting someone else, and focus on the positive, which was that Draco was in love with him now, and just as big a virgin as he was himself.

Draco huffed a laugh. "It was you, you pillock."

"Huh?" Harry scrunched up his nose in adorable confusion.

"The one I wanted and couldn't have. You. I used to hate you because you wouldn't be my friend and I wanted you to be so badly; then I got older and realised that I wanted you and I hated you even more. I couldn't stop myself from doing whatever it took to get your attention, even if it was negative, and I hated you all the more for making me lose control. Then you saved me, and we became friends; and as I got to know you better I went from simply wanting you, to falling hopelessly in love with you."

Harry was speechless. He swallowed hard. "You… you fancied me? All along?"

Draco leaned down and captured his lips again, interspersing his kisses with words. "So." Kiss. "Much." Kiss. "For." Kiss. "So." Kiss. "Bloody." Kiss. "Long." He pulled back and stared into Harry's eyes. "So much that sometimes it hurt to breathe. So much that sometimes I could have cried from it. Sometimes I did. I was so very afraid that it would never go away. Now I'm glad it never did."

Harry smiled, and rolled his hips upwards, making Draco gasp. "I want you, Draco. I… I'm not entirely sure of all the mechanics, but I know that I want you. So much that I can barely stand it. Do you know what to do?"

Draco nodded, biting his lip. "I looked it up, after we started… well." He flushed. "I thought… hoped… that we might need to know someday. Though I always thought that you would want me to bottom. Do you…"

"I… I want you inside me," Harry said softly, not daring to meet Draco's eyes. He flushed himself, and tried to explain in a way that didn't make him sound too girly. "I just feel like… I want you to fill me. Complete me. I just… I need to feel you in me." He flushed even darker and he couldn't meet Draco's eyes. "I've been responsible for so much for so long; I just want to let someone else be in control for a while. And I want that someone else to be you. I trust you to take care of me."

Draco took his chin in his hands and lifted it, forcing Harry to meet his gaze. It was so soft, so tender and open, that it made Harry's heart ache. There was awe in it, too; and that surprised Harry a little. Draco kissed him gently. "Thank you," he whispered. "For trusting me… loving me… I…" He swallowed thickly, looking at Harry with a hungry kind of desperation.

Harry pulled him back down into a kiss, and thrust his hips up. Draco gasped into his mouth, not having anticipated the move. He pulled back, and Harry whimpered at the loss of contact.

"Shh," Draco said, his eyes lighting up with happiness. He moved his mouth to the side of Harry's neck, nipping and sucking at Harry's pulse point. He made his way down, across Harry's collarbone, to his nipples, biting and sucking and leaving red marks in his wake. Harry was twisting, gasping below him, letting out delicious little mewling sounds.

Draco traced his tongue down to Harry's nipples, teasing, nipping; flicking them with the tip of his tongue, then seizing them with his lips and biting down gently. He worked over Harry's left side first, before moving to the right. Harry gasped and moaned, and twisted in his sheets, and Draco chuckled before making his way further south.

He dipped his tongue in Harry's navel, then continued his way down; nipping, licking, and kissing. He moved around Harry's cock, laving attention on the inside of first one thigh, then the other. He pushed at Harry's legs, and Harry spread them for him, eagerly. He licked a swift stripe along Harry's cock, causing the smaller boy to buck his hips and let out a strangled cry. He sat up, chuckling.

"Turn over, love," he said, with eyes like warm mercury.

Harry hesitated. "Draco… I… can we do this face to face? I really want to see you."

Draco bit his lip. "It hurts the first time, though. It'll be easier for you if we do this the other way."

Harry hesitated. "I know what I want," he said, softly. "And I want to see your face when I lose my virginity." Red bloomed over his face, down his neck and spreading over his chest. He felt that if he blushed any harder his head might explode. Draco smiled at him.

"Alright," he said. The he bit his lip again, looking somewhat nervous. "But you have to tell me if it's too much for you. More than anything, Harry, I want this to be good for you." The earnestness with which he said this made Harry melt a little.

"It will be, Draco. It's with you, isn't it?"

Draco lunged forward and kissed him again, hard. After a few moments he pulled back, leaning his head against Harry's forehead and breathing hard. He opened his eyes and smirked wickedly. "Come on, then," he said playfully. He sat up and smacked Harry's thigh lightly. "Turn over. I want to try something."

Since the last time Draco had said he wanted to "try something" had resulted in Harry's first ever blow-job, he was understandably eager to comply with whatever Draco had planned. He rolled over. Draco lifted his hips, pulling a pillow under them and spreading Harry's knees apart. Harry buried his head in the sheets, face flaming. He felt completely exposed and vulnerable. He trusted Draco, though, so his embarrassment was tempered with excitement.

He waited as Draco fumbled behind him, then gasped as the unexpected sensation of a cleaning charm swept over a part of him he'd never expected to feel it. He shivered from the unexpected and not-entirely-unpleasant sensation.

Draco kissed the curve of the small of his back, before spreading his arse cheeks wide. Suddenly he licked a stripe down Harry's crack. Harry let out a surprised shout, both at the action and the unexpected sensation. He could feel the flat of Draco's tongue moving over his hole and couldn't hold back a whimper. He felt Draco's smile as the blond began to lick him in earnest.

Harry shuddered under the sensation, gasping and moaning in abandon as Draco's tongue proceeded to circle his hole, then sweep over it in a repeating pattern. It felt brilliant. Then Draco speared his tongue and stabbed it inside Harry's opening, and he cried out in shock and pleasure. He began writhing, whimpering and sobbing as he pushed back against his boyfriend, who was eagerly tongue-fucking him into the mattress. A high-pitched whine was building in the back of Harry's throat, and he found himself begging incoherently for more.

"Please, Draco; please! Need more; need you! Please; please, please!"

Draco gave his hole one last lick, then turned Harry over onto his back. Harry pulled him down into an enthusiastic snog.

"I need you," he whispered as their lips parted. "Now. Please?"

Draco nodded shakily. "You're not quite ready yet, love. But don't worry; you're getting there."

Harry let out a frustrated groan, and Draco smirked. "You have no idea how hot you were like that. No idea." He whispered a lubrication spell, and moved one slick finger to Harry's loosened entrance. He teased it for a moment with a fingertip, but Harry let out a whine and thrust his hips forward, trying to bring it into himself.

Draco snickered. "Settle down, love," he reprimanded. Then he slowly slid the fingertip inside. Harry grimaced. It was an odd feeling, having a finger stuck in there. It didn't hurt; not with the lube, the rimjob he'd just gotten, and Draco's slow and careful movements. It just felt strange, and rather full. But it wasn't a bad sensation. Just a different one. After a moment, his body adjusted to the intrusion and he found it was actually quite pleasurable as Draco moved it in and out.

After a few moments, he began impatiently pushing back. "More, Draco; come on, give me more!"

Draco laughed. He slowly, gently slid a second finger inside, and while it felt a little more uncomfortable than the first had, after a few moments the stretching sensation had died down into pleasure as well. Draco began scissoring his fingers, crooking them this way and that, until suddenly he rubbed something inside Harry that made his eyes roll back in his head as he arched his back and nearly screamed.

"Found it!" Draco's voice was smug and triumphant. "Like that, did you?"

"What the hell was that?" gasped Harry.

"That," Draco crooked his fingers again and Harry let out a wail as he writhed, "Is your prostate."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry moaned. "Please Draco; I need you!"

Draco closed his eyes and swallowed. When he opened them again and spoke, his voice shook a little. "Harry, trust me when I say that you don't want me to rush this, okay?"

Before Harry could argue, he slid a third finger inside carefully. Harry winced. It burned, a little. It wasn't too bad, but it was definitely more than a little uncomfortable, and even slightly painful. But after a few moments of Draco's slow, gentle movements, the burn faded and it became pleasurable again; all the more so when Draco stimulated his prostate as he went.

Harry found himself pushing back again, and demanding "More!" yet again. Draco pulled his fingers out and whispered the lubrication spell again. He straightened, pulling Harry's legs up over his shoulders. He looked up at Harry. He appeared nervous, yet determined. Harry felt himself tense slightly as he realised that Draco had finished preparing him.

"You need to relax, love. Just trust me, alright?" Draco's voice soothed any nerves Harry may have been feeling, and he smiled.

"I do. I love you." Draco leaned down to kiss him as he pressed inside. Harry gasped and screwed his eyes shut. Draco hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said it would hurt. Even with all the preparation, it hurt. But it wasn't unbearable, so it seemed that Draco had known what he was doing. What's more, Draco stopped as soon as he felt Harry tense. He kissed along Harry's jaw, murmuring soothingly.

"Shhh, relax, love. Relax. Trust me."

Harry did relax, and Draco moved again, pressing deeper. It hurt, quite a bit more than Harry had been anticipating, but he realised now that Draco had taken so long to prepare him to minimize that pain, and it left him feeling deeply grateful to have a lover that cared for him so much. He forced himself to relax, willing his body to accept the intrusion, as Draco moved slowly until he was fully sheathed. Harry opened his eyes, and watched as Draco stilled, breathing heavily, his own eyes clenched shut. He was making little gasping sounds, and it occurred to Harry that it must be taking quite a bit of effort for Draco not to move. After a moment, Harry's body had more or less accepted the intrusion, and he began to feel uncomfortable – like he needed Draco to move.

"Draco," he said softly. "It's okay. You can move now."

Draco opened his eyes and glanced down at Harry in surprise. "You're alright?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled up at him. "But I think I need you to move now."

Draco's own lips curved upwards. "I can do that." He pulled out slowly, then thrust back in. His movements were slow and gentle as he gave Harry's body time to adjust to everything. He kept shifting his hips, and suddenly on one thrust he hit that spot inside Harry – his prostate, Draco had called it – and Harry cried out and bucked his hips wildly. "Oh, fuck!" he shrieked. "Fuck; Draco, fuck!"

Draco was smirking in earnest as he began to move faster, angling his hips to hit Harry's prostate more often than not. "Touch yourself!" he commanded, and Harry obeyed; tugging on his cock and chanted Draco's name desperately.

"Oh Merlin; Draco, Draco, Draco! Fuck! Merlin! Draco!"

He was sobbing Draco's name desperately, and with one last desperate cry of, "Draco!" he threw back his head and came. He came hard, long streams of spunk shooting out from his cock in thick white ropes.

Draco cried out and slammed his hips back into Harry erratically, and Harry felt him come as well. The sensation of having Draco come inside him was beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. He sobbed and chanted him boyfriend's name over and over brokenly as Draco rode out the waves of his orgasm. He'd never felt so complete, so whole.

Draco finished and collapsed against him, shaking. Harry wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, noting absently that they seemed to be shaking as well. The room was silent except for the sound of their breath, which came in sharp pants and harsh gasps.

After a few moments, Draco shifted into a more comfortable position. He lifted his head long enough to give Harry one last long, slow kiss. Then he dropped his forehead to Harry's and murmured, "I love you," again before tucking into Harry's side with a yawn.

Harry couldn't control the enormous grin that broke over his face at that. "I love you, too," he whispered back. He closed his eyes and let himself drift, enjoying the intimacy and closeness he felt with the other boy.

He was perfectly happy. He felt such peace and contentment, nothing could have spoiled it

I must say, it's nice to see you happy, young one.

Harry sat up with a gasp and a startled jolt, ignoring Draco's exclamations of indignation in favour of glancing around wildly for the old woman who had spoken.

Don't be alarmed; I've simply decided that it was high time I spoke to you.

"Who's there?" His voice was weak and shaky, desperately hoping that the voice would turn out to belong to an old woman with grey hair and twinkling blue eyes – there was something in the voice that reminded Harry of Dumbledore, despite it being female.

"Harry? Love, are you alright?" Draco was looking at him worriedly.

"Can't you… can't you hear it?" Harry asked desperately.

"Hear what?"

"That… voice."

You're the only one I'm speaking to. You're the first I've found worthy of speaking to since the days of Rowana, Helga, Godric, and Salazar.

"Harry… there is no voice." The concern in Draco's voice now was palpable. Harry's breathing became laboured, as visions of second year and the Chamber of Secrets danced in his head.

"Who are you?" he whispered brokenly, hiding his head in his hands.

I'm Hogwarts, of course.