Dumbledore's Army took a break from meeting that evening as almost all of its members had parchments due the next day. Six o'clock found Harry relaxing in the common room, feet propped on the sofa comfortably. He should've been working on his potions essay, but memories of Draco and promises of forever were flooding his thoughts distractedly.
And that hand, rested upon his thigh, sliding upward and coming so close... Harry felt himself twitch with desire. Fuck, if his thoughts continued on this path, he'd have to disappear to the washroom for a while.
Ron was in the corner attempting to study with Hermione, far too absorbed to make conversation. They hadn't spoken much since their most recent argument, but the air lacked the animosity Ron had once held. He was definitely coming around, Harry observed hopefully, and soon enough he figured things would work themselves out.
He glanced around the room to find most of the common room studiously focused on essays or N.E.W.T preparation. Restlessly, his eyes darted to the fire place, then the ceiling, and even to the floor, Draco's face appearing in every crack and corner they rested on. Exasperatedly, he shut the open book beside him and gave up on his attempts at potion work. As much as he wanted to sneak out, stalk to the dungeons and ravish Draco right then and there, he thought better of the idea.
He knew that the Slytherins were not on the best terms with his mate, and any attempts at sneaking to the dungeons would do nothing but irritate the situation. Unfortunately, he had no easy way of communicating to Draco that he desperately wanted to meet him in the Room of Requirement. Now.
With an audible sigh, he gathered his things and headed up the stairs to the boy's dormitory.
"Done already, mate?" The voice belonged to a Weasley, and Harry turned at the sudden conversation between them.
"Nah, I can't focus. I'm headed to bed."
Ron looked at Hermione, who shrugged. "Alright. I'll be up there in a while."
Harry nodded in response, treading each step exhaustedly. When he approached his four poster, he crawled in to sheets that were far too inviting. He wasn't planning on falling asleep, but somehow the inevitable occurred. He drifted off into a deep slumber and dreamt of Draco Malfoy.
The Slytherin common room was quiet. It hadn't been, actually, until Draco entered. One step in, and a sharp silence befell the room that he felt immediately. Glares were cast cruelly in his direction, Pansy at the center, leading the tirade. Blaise didn't even glance in his direction, pretending to be absorbed in an issue of the Daily Prophet. Apparently sitting at the Gryffindor table was an unforgivable sin in Slytherin territory.
Without a word, Draco frustratedly stalked to the dormitory. He had a right to be there; after all, it was his common room. He'd been sorted a snake when he was 11, and nothing could change that... right?
He took a seat on the bed, wishing that he had a DA meeting to attend. Anywhere would be better than here, he regarded restlessly. He ruminated on possibilities of escape, but decided against every one of them. It was far too close to curfew to leave the common room; any one of the bloody traitors down there would turn him in purely out of spite. And so he sat anxiously, itching to be with Harry. Lying back, he closed the curtains and decided to close his eyes. Flashes of scenes from earlier, of kisses and smiles and laughs, played in a romantic montage across each shut lid. Draco wasn't able to tell the difference as thoughts turned to dreams of Harry Potter. He smiled in his sleep.
It was dark. Disoriented, Draco allowed his eyes to adjust to the lack of light in the room. The dungeons typically remained shadowed in comparison to the rest of the castle, but not a single shred of light was visible. Tiredly, Draco concluded that more time had passed than he originally had planned. He opened the curtain slightly, grabbing his wand from the night stand and noticing that the other beds were full of sleeping Slytherins. It was later than he thought.
He cast a Tempus charm to check the time. The wand pointed just past 11 o'clock. Late enough, he thought, but not too late to escape. He'd had a nap that left him energized and ready to get the fuck out of there. Still clothed from earlier, he slipped on his shoes and snuck around the others. He knew exactly where he was going. He just hoped he wouldn't be caught along the way.
"Psssst! Harry!"
Harry let out a groan. His dreams were so real sometimes; he swore he could hear Draco's voice.
"Wake up!" Wake up? Why would he do that? Here, in this reality, Draco was standing next to his bed. There was nowhere else he'd rather be. He smiled, mumbling to himself: "mmm...Draco..."
"Yes! It's me, you prat! Open your eyes!" The voice was hushed but sharp. Huh? What was going on? Harry opened his eyes to see a shadow standing over him. Immediately reacting on instinct, he sprung up and grabbed his wand.
"Whoa, whoa! Harry, relax! It's me!"
"Draco?" He lowered his wand, reality setting in around him.
"Yes! Keep your voice down. Your friends are sleeping."
Harry grabbed his glasses and examined the shape before him. "Draco." He smiled from ear to ear, still slightly dazed from sleep.
Draco returned the grin. "You're cute when you're half asleep, you know."
Harry cocked his head, coming to his senses more by the minute. "How the fuck did you get in here?"
"Please, Harry. We've been through this. The Fat Lady has a thing for me. Now, are you going to invite me in?"
Harry chuckled, confused but grateful for his presence. He scooted over, patting the bed in a subtle invitation. Draco climbed in, kicking off his shoes and wriggling beneath the sheets next to Harry.
"Hang on." Harry sat up, closing the curtains and casting a few silencing charms. He followed this with a "Lumos."
"Draco, I'm so glad you're here. I don't know how you keep managing to break into our common room but I don't care." A look of pure happiness was cast upon his face.
"Well, it wasn't so easy. I tried the first stair case I saw, thinking it was your dormitory. Halfway up and the stairs turned into a bloody slide." He rolled his eyes, and Harry laughed heartily.
"You tried to enter the girl's dormitory. That's what happens."
"I figured as much. We don't need traps like that in the dungeons. The doors are warded with hexes instead." He winked, and Harry shivered. Thank God he was gay, he muttered to himself. He couldn't imagine trying to do what Draco had done, only to end up cursed or hexed irreparably. It was Draco's turn to laugh at Harry's reaction. He softened immediately.
"So, what brings you to my bed in the middle of the night?" He leaned forward slightly, interest piquing at the possibilities.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you." The response was reactionary, instinctive. Harry was the one person he could speak to without contemplating and planning each word.
"Me neither."
Draco didn't speak, allowing a very different kind of silence to envelope. This wasn't the sharp and reclusive silence of the Slytherins. Harry's quiet was anticipatory, fragile, and soft. It was love, wrapped minutely in the unspoken bond hovering mid-air. Draco instinctively felt his face inch forward, lusting for a taste of the boy before him.
Their noses touched, brushing back and forth affectionately. Without further thought or consideration, Draco tilted his head and joined his face to Harry's. His mouth was warm and inviting and, oh, open, and Draco felt himself lurch inside. Harry didn't hesitate to fully consume him, joining their tongues and releasing all of his pent up tension with each kiss.
He felt a surge of hormones building inside of him, burning with a fire that caused his cock to swell. How could something as simple as a kiss do so much to his body?
Draco felt Harry stiffen and knew that things were getting heated. He placed a hand on his jaw, pulling him closer, holding nothing back between them.
"Mmm, Harry..." his voice was flushed between kisses that were on fire, heat rising and blazing from down below.
Unable to take the burn, Draco placed his hands on Harry's waist and in one fluid motion slipped his body beneath his own. He sat up briefly, removing his shirt and then pressing himself downward between Harry's suspended legs. His prick was stiff against Harry's and a groan escaped his throat at the contact.
Harry's hands found either side of Draco's neck and pulled him downward until they were flush once more. Subconsciously, Draco felt his hips thrust forward in rhythm with their kissing.
Several twisted moans sounded from Harry's throat, and he ran his hands along Draco's bare back. Reaching his waist, Harry tucked his fingers into the lining of his pants and slid them around to the front. Draco lapped at Harry's mouth with his tongue, which was warm and sweet and tasted like fresh mint. Harry felt his breath hinge, unable to cope with the rush of hormones flooding his body. God,Draco was so perfect...
His fingers fumbled with the zipper and button, eventually opening them to reveal Draco's heather gray shorts underneath. Draco returned the favor, separating momentarily to slide Harry's shirt over his head. They were both panting, huffing lustfully and unable to fully catch breath.
Draco took a moment to run his palms along Harry's bare chest, shivering at the feel of the skin beneath his touch. Harry felt himself both relax and tighten inexplicably as Draco's fingers ran along each surface. He needed him, fully, once more. His brain was cloudy with thoughts and feelings and burning, Merlin, an irrefutable longing that refused to be quenched.
Draco's fingers reached the hem of Harry's jeans and began to yank them downward without hesitation. He hadn't even bothered to undo them, the passionate desire to have them off overpowering all else.
Harry lifted his own hands to pull Draco's pants down the rest of the way. draco finished by kicking them off hastily and then he was pressing against Harry again and there was absolutely nothing better than this in existence. Chest against chest, their bodies were entangled in an embrace that could only be described by love.
Draco's hands were threaded within Harry's hair, pulling and tugging and it hurt slightly but Harry didn't care. He was too consumed by Draco weaving in and out of his mouth, tongues tied and lips swollen from snogging.
"Let me make love to you, Harry. Let me give you what you've given me."
Harry nodded, desiring nothing else. Nothing else mattered in the whole damned world except for the two of them in this moment. The next thing that occurred was two pairs of shorts falling seamlessly to the floor. Draco remained on top, thrusting his pelvis fearlessly against Harry's. The motion was enough to make Harry cry out, and he was more than grateful for the silencing charms. God, he was good, Draco was so, so good...
Pre-cum lubricated areas that were once dry, areas that were now red and swollen and longing. Draco reached a hand between Harry's legs until he found his hole. He brushed his finger around the rim, a soft and ticklish sensation that had Harry crying in fits of sexual desire. "Please, Draco," he caught himself pleading, too far gone to care. His pride was equally matched by Draco's soft whimpers of pleasure each time their dicks touched. The truth was, there was no dominance here, no need to be tough or coy. He could beg Draco to touch him, and the only negative effect would be Harry's building desire threatening to burst between them.
"Do you have...?" Harry asked shyly, remembering how this had gone in reverse.
Draco nodded. The next few minutes consisted of fingers, sleek and thick and dripping with jelly widening and preparing Harry for what was to come.
There were groans and gasps and shrieks of pleasure. Draco smiled and although he was pleased with himself he decided that nothing was better than giving pleasure to Harry. Receiving was great, but that look on Harry's face... the way he bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut, the soft, appreciative sounds escaping from deep within his throat, the way his emerald eyes were glassy with want... it was everything Draco needed.
He removed himself, Harry writhing and pleading and begging for more. Draco kissed him softly, fervently, hungrily. And just when Harry wondered if he could take anymore foreplay, Draco positioned himself against him.
It hurt at first. Not a lot, but enough to sting. Harry wondered for a split second if he would be able to continue. But as Draco inched foreword cautiously, concern painted across silver irises, pain turned to immense pleasure. He wasn't sure what Draco was doing, or how he was doing it, but it was the best damned feeling in the world. Maybe it was because wherever that spot was, he was hitting it just right. Or maybe it was because the expression of sheer ecstasy on his face was beautiful and perfect. Or maybe it was the fact that his body was flush with his own, a connection that even magic couldn't touch.
Harry felt himself press into the pillows, and even the soft cotton against his cheeks was too much stimulation. Everything was tingling from head to foot, and he wondered how much longer he would last like this. Draco was moving in, out, in, out, causing a friction that made every nerve in his body both tighten and relax simultaneously. His dick was hard as could be, rubbing repeatedly against the flesh of Draco's stomach.
"Draco..." he breathed headily, and Draco could taste the word on his lips. He closed the gap between them, pressing himself deeper into Harry, as far as he could go, holding nothing back emotionally or physically and God, he could feel himself so close to orgasm...
"I love you." Draco brushed Harry's tousled black hair from his forehead, gazing into a sea of emerald. He paused, fully inside, as far as one could go, and Harry could take it no longer.
"Ah, Draco. I love you... I love you so much... I can't... I'm going to..."
"It's ok, love. Feel good, please, I want you to feel so good..." Draco was on the verge himself, pulsing and radiating with red heat.
Harry gasped, mouth dropped in absolute pleasure as he coated the space between them.
Draco felt Harry's orgasm drape his stomach, and the knowledge of his full blown ecstasy alone was enough to push him over the edge. He retracted slightly and, with a final thrust, felt himself riding the waves of his own climax.
Harry could sense Draco filling him, leaving no room inside for anything except himself, and Merlin, this is how he always wanted it to be... and then there were a pair of lips brushing across his own, and he arched to meet them closely, to mesh with them and make them his own.
"Mmm... love you, Harry." Draco smiled, and he felt his insides twist and drop and melt into a warm, fluid sensation that spread throughout his being.
"I love you more." Harry propped himself onto his forearms, and Draco pulled out while muttering a quick cleaning spell that vanished all evidence. Lying next to him, Draco turned to Harry with a dreamy expression that reflected just how lucky he felt to be there.
"Impossible, Potter. Absolutely impossible." His closed lips bent into a shy smile as he gathered Harry into his arms.
"Thank you," he whispered, snuggling further into Draco's embrace. "For everything you've given me."
"I can't give you a tenth of what you've given me, Harry. But if it's any resolution... you're welcome." He flashed a haughty grin, playfully sarcastic. It was one of the many aspects of Draco that Harry couldn't help but fall in love with. That stupid git, with his stupid smirk... He chuckled lightly at the familiar thought pattern and everything that had changed about it.
"Come on," he said after settling. "Let's get dressed before one of these fellows wakes up and catches us. Ron might literally die if he walked in on this."
Draco snickered. "I almost wish he would."
"Headmaster, I need to speak with you. It's urgent. I assure you that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't absolutely imperative. Please allow me a moment of your time."
Dumbledore stood at the fireplace located in the far corner of his office, scratching his beard as he listened to the voice traveling through the floo network.
"Of course. I will open the floo. You may come in." Dumbledore murmured the password, which was some type of candy assortment, and stepped back patiently.
For a moment, all was still. The fireplace crackled and popped as any logs would, but then they began to hiss and cry with increasing temperature. The flames flushed blue and then bright green before a single foot stepped from amongst the ashes.
Dumbledore smiled welcomely, as he would to any visitor stepping politely into his office. As the rest of the body emerged, Albus raised both hands in greeting.
"Narcissa Malfoy. What a pleasure."
