Draco was clawing desperately for entertainment. Sure, it was a gift to have his father securely locked away in Azkaban; and when his mother had decided to leave the country for a while in the aftermath of the war trials, he had been delighted at the idea of having the entire Malfoy Manor to himself. But now that he'd been alone and hadn't left the Manor in weeks, his boredom had become an all consuming entity. He had roamed the entire Manor and its expansive grounds, had flown on his broom all over the property, and had even taken to reading The Daily Prophet cover to cover before leaving the breakfast table every morning.
Currently, he was spread out over the couch in his west-facing sunroom, twirling his wand in one hand and gazing at the patterns in the tiled ceiling above him. He supposed he could make his way to the Library and get into his father's liquor cabinet-again.
At first, these little excursions into the land of pleasant drunkenness had been exciting. He would select a nice book, sip at his drink, and then eventually make his way down to the Dining Hall for his dinner. But the activity had become woefully routine. It took most of his restraint to not go straight to the Library just after breakfast. He had even had to make a rule for himself to not resort to drinking before noon. But really, what else was there to do?
He rolled his eyes even as he made the decision to raise himself off the couch and make his way towards the now oh so familiar Library. He didn't particularly feel like indulging in the whiskey-heavy collection, but he had solved that problem days ago by having the house elves move an assortment of wines from the cellar into this room. He didn't like venturing into the lower dungeon-like recesses of the Manor, and he was grateful that he at least he had his little servants to do the job for him.
He pulled a bottle of red wine from the cabinet and with a flick of his wand the cork popped out. He poured a respectable amount into his glass. He took a sip, then with a shrug, picked the bottle back up and filled the glass to the rim. He figured he was going to finish the bottle by the time the sun set anyway, and it wasn't as though there was anyone around to be presentable for. He picked up his glass again and let his eyes roam around the room. He'd walked the rows of shelves many times during his self-imposed isolation, and though he didn't feel much like reading at the moment, he set his feet in motion.
The Malfoy library, of course, housed an expansive collection of both fiction and non-fiction books. Anything even remotely related to Dark Magic had been confiscated by the Ministry in the raid following the trial, but the library remained as vast as it ever was. He wondered the aisles, sipping at his wine, looking for nothing in particular. Occasionally, a spine would catch his eye and he would pull it out to take a look at the cover before sliding it back in. He finally made his way to the back of the library, a long and tall row of books spanning before him. He stepped closer, allowing his eyes to skim the titles on the spines. He reached the end of the row, where a ladder on wheels lay attached to the shelves. He set his glass down on the shelf in front of him and ascended the ladder slowly, reading titles that held little interest to him as he went.
He reached the top shelf, lingering for a moment. He was just reaching for the wand in his pocket to send the ladder sliding along the shelves when a title just out of reach caught his eye. Surely it couldn't say what he thought it did. He pulled out his wand and gave it a small flick. The ladder shifted just enough. His eyes widened in surprise as the spine of the book read exactly what he thought it did: "The Art of Anal Intercourse." He didn't hesitate, reaching out a hand to take the book from its place, a little thrill running through his body as he did so. He had just fingered the book from its place, hand gripping it firmly to pull it completely out, when to his complete surprise, he felt the entire shelf shifting. And he was shifting with it! He clung tightly to the ladder, a gasp escaping him, as the wall rotated slowly, spinning him into another room entirely. Once the journey was finished, he loosened his grip on the ladder, the book that had triggered the shift forgotten, and turned his head to take in the room around him.
He found himself looking down into a tiny circular library, much brighter than the one he had just left. He almost shrieked out loud as his eyes landed on the person directly across from, but exhaled in relief as he quickly realized it was only his own reflection. He rolled his eyes at himself and quickly descended the ladder, eager to explore this new place. He was pleased to find that his glass of wine was still sitting neatly on the shelf where he had left it. He allowed himself a smug smile as he picked it up, turning to the room around him.
As he scanned the shelves around him, he very quickly discovered that this secret library was exactly what the trigger book said it was-a complete library on the art of anal sex. There was an entire section dedicated solely to rimming! He sat his wine glass down on a little table close to the shelf he was currently perusing. He couldn't contain his excitement as his eyes greedily roamed the titles. Thoughts of why his father would have this dirty little library rose up in his mind, but he couldn't trouble himself with caring. At the moment, his hands were reaching for the spine of a thin red book. He opened it to a random page and his eyes widened in shock at what he saw. Right there on the page in front of him was the captivating image of two wizards-one on his back with his legs thrown back over his head, the other licking thirstily at his hole. Draco couldn't look away. He flipped the pages, hoping to find something just as amazing on the next page, and he was not disappointed! Page after page, wizards lay bare before his eyes, clearly in the utmost pleasure.
Draco set the book aside and made his way to the other side of the room. He picked up book after book, some instructional, but most being purely pornographic. He was making himself a nice little pile to carry back to his room. As the stack on the little table by his wine glass got dangerously high, he decided he would explore more of this room tomorrow. He certainly had enough to keep himself entertained for several days. He let his eyes roam the room again in awe. A tiny little book, tucked almost completely out of sight between two books right at the end of a shelf caught his eye. He hesitated, eyeing his already large pile, before muttering, "What the hell," and made his way over, pulling the little book from the shelf.
The book was battered. He could barely make out the thinly written title. "The Fantasy Diary," he read aloud. He opened the book to find that it was empty-empty lined pages filled it. It was a journal. He closed the little diary and turned it over in his hands. It seemed innocent enough, but he still pulled his wand out and cast the few revealing spells he knew. And nothing. Of course, he knew how dangerous it could be to go writing in a book, especially a book that must have belonged to his father. He decided that a test needed to be done.
He turned to the little table with his wine glass and pile of freshly acquired wank material. He pulled the handle of the little drawer and was pleased to find a self inking quill tucked right at the very back of it. He pulled the writing utensil out, sat himself in the only available chair, and hovered the quill over the first page.
He wrote a simple, "Hello" on the page. The ink stood before him and he waited. But nothing happened. The word just sat there on the page. He hovered the quill over the page again.
But what to write? "A fantasy diary," he whispered. "A fantasy..." he said. His mind wasted no time in supplying his most visited wank material. His trousers had been tight since he had opened the first book, but now his erection grew to full hardness. He reached a hand between his legs to adjust himself. He groaned as his hand touched his own hard length through the fabric of his pants. Still looking down at the page before him, he couldn't resist the urge to test the book just once more. Maybe, he thought to himself, maybe the journal was enchanted after all. And maybe-his cock jolted as he thought of the pleasurable possibilities, maybe it's the good kind of magic.
He set the quill once again to the page and wrote, muttering each word aloud as he went, "Harry Potter...on his knees...sucking my cock." He looked down at the words. For a moment, all seemed normal. But then the words were glowing green, sinking into the page before disappearing entirely.
"Draco," he heard.
Draco gasped, jerking his head up in shock and slight horror as he was greeted by the sight of Harry Potter right there in the room with him. Of course, it wasn't really Harry Potter, and the longer he looked, the clearer that became. The apparition wasn't entirely solid, and the figure glowed at the edges.
"Draco," the figure groaned again, moving closer to him.
Draco could only watch, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, lost somewhere between lust and fear as the very Harry Potter looking figure moved closer to him. This Potter sunk to his knees and his hands literally ghosted over Draco's thighs. Draco couldn't bring himself to stop those hands from lowering his zipper or from pulling his pants down enough to release his cock. He watched, barely aware of his own breathing that had grown so heavy, as the dark haired, green eyed figure opened it's mouth and took Draco into his mouth.
Draco tossed his head back, eyes rolling back at the sensation. He knew in the back of his mind that this couldn't possibly be real, but he could feel it-oh god could he feel it! He looked back down at the head now bobbing enthusiastically up and down. He slowly moved his hand to touch that mess of black hair. But he found he couldn't actually touch it. His fingers just moved right through it, only a slight tingling sensation in his fingertips. He had never encountered magic like this, and some tiny part of his mind begged him to stop this madness, but then that oh so talented version of Potter slid his tongue right into his slit and he could do nothing except abandon himself to the pleasure of it all. His hands gripped desperately at the arms of the chair as this Potter moved his lips down to his balls, still pumping his cock with one hand while looking up at him. "Oh, fuck," Draco whined. So what if this wasn't real! This was absolutely amazing. Harry Potter was down on his knees with Draco's balls in his mouth, looking for all the world like the most perfect little cock whore. Potter descended onto his cock again, sucking him for all he was worth. Draco's hips were thrusting involuntarily and his breath was reduced to little gasps. His orgasm was coming as swiftly and surely as the Hogwarts express on the first of September. He gave an almighty cry as he came, feeling the muscles in Potter's throat taking him deep and milking him for all he was worth. Draco's eyes rolled into the back of head, until he finally slumped against the back of the chair.
He sat there, breathing heavily for several moments. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, not sure if he dared to look. Seeing no one, he let his eyes open all the way. He was alone in the room. Looking down to the floor, he saw his own spunk on the carpet, the little diary beside it. He leisurely tucked himself back into his pants, flicked his wand to clear the mess, and bent over to pick up the journal. He opened it, and found that it was again completely empty.
Finally, he picked up his glass of wine and slipped the diary into the wasteland of his pants. He cast a look over to the pile of books he had intended to bring to his bedroom. He certainly wouldn't be needing to go through the trouble of that now. He climbed the ladder again, pushed the Art of Anal Intercourse back into its place, and held on as the shelf rotated, depositing him in the familiar Manor Library.
Once back on solid ground, he drained his glass of wine and made his way over to the liquor cabinet to pour another. He pulled the Fantasy Diary out of his waistband. He flipped through the empty pages and felt a fresh wave of arousal roll through him.
One thing was for certain, he thought to himself, his days of boredom were over.