A/N: Sorry it took so long. I'm delighted so many people liked this fic, it's going to wind down a bit but every now and again I'll make sure to wind it back up. I hope all of you enjoy what is to come (winking cum)and if you didn't know before, I've made this a crossover.
To all of my reviewers, I love you crazy bastards! I'm surprised, still, that I don't have any flames, it's odd…maybe the lot of you that want to flame are too mesmerized by my talent…damn I'm cocky. (Damn my puns!)Oh, note that this chapter -is- long as hell, to make up for the other chapter which was short as hell, though this one doesn't have much porny goodness in it.
Neway, here we go…
Where we last left off…
Draco chuckled; he didn't know a person could do all those things at once, the vibration hoaxing the Gryfindor even more so. With a whimper, Harry grabbed two fists of the blonde's hair and berried his cock into the tight orifice, screaming his release in only two thrusts of his hips with a pleading groan from somewhere inside his chest. The only thing holding him up were Draco's arms and with a grunt the Gryfindor removed Draco's arms from around his waist when the blonde finally let go of his cock with a satisfied smack, collapsing before the still kneeling Slytherin.
"You taste good, Potter," Draco drawled, smirking teasingly at the still panting Gryfindor. The raven-haired boy leaned forward quickly, crushing Draco's lips to his own with a hand in the blonde locks before his hungrily lips trailed to Draco's spot and his hand found Draco's still very erect 'magic wand'.
Shocking Tension
He sucked and licked mercilessly, not letting up in the slightest as he gripped the pulsating flesh between his fingers. The long seeker catching hand barely wrapping around the shaft and touching only slightly at the tips. The Gryfindor took a moment to register the fact that his hand didn't wind around the Slytherin's cock as easily as it had his own, glancing down at the length for the first time.
Harry's grip faltered at the sight, his hand pausing in shock as his mouth dropped open in a very unappealing, in his opinion at least, gape at the Slytherin's thick slice of meat.
"How the hell did –that- fit in me?" the words spilled from his mouth like just about everything and he heard the blonde let out a breathy chuckle in something akin to relief.
"As much as I would love to answer your dirty little sex aid questions, Potter," Draco drawled sexily, clutching at Harry's shoulders in attempt to steady his spinning head. He was thankful for the chance to gather his wits about him but part of him didn't think Harry stopping was anything worth his relief. So, being the quick thinker that he was, and he praised himself in his head for overcoming this difficult decision, he went with the latter. "I would be -eternally- grateful if you would continue your ravishing of my neck and the fabulous hand job you were just executing." The words spilled from lips with little thought, not processing what the meaning behind his words would entail.
Harry allowed his big eyes the travel up Malfoy's form to steadying on his face. Harry's fingers tightened almost instinctively around the cock in his hand, taking in Draco's flushed cheeks and put out look at Harry's pause. His green eyes took a somewhat mischievous glint, and Draco, being the over observer, took notice of the distinct change in the Gryfindor as Harry's lips slipped into a slow, and, to his pleasant surprise, seductive smirk.
"What, Draco, don't you want me to appreciate your assets," here the Gryfindor emphasized, "like a good little Ravenclaw, worship the ground you walk on like a Hufflepuff, bravely ravish you like a Gryfindor?" His voice dropped an octave even lower than that of his previously altered voice, his lips resting on Draco's sensitive spot just above his collar bone, kissing and licking. His grip tightened considerably in confidence with Draco's encouraging hiss. "Let you fuck me like a bad little Slytherin?"
The blonde lost it, strong hands leaving bruises in his shoulders as the Slytherin came all over his hand, his seed squirting wetly on his chest. Harry, mouth dropped in awe, was speechless. Draco Malfoy was absolutely, entirely, fucking hot when he came. It was like watching the most beautiful person in the world come. Fuck, at the moment, Harry couldn't think of any one more beautiful than Draco Malfoy. And, at this thought Harry slightly freaked himself out, he would gladly give anything just to see that again.
"Damnnnn, Dracooo Mallffooyy," he hissed, not even realizing he was speaking Parseltongue until Draco Malfoy's burning, slightly glassy silver gaze met his own. Draco's body had stopped trembling with his orgasm completely; the thick flesh, still in his hand, hardening from it's recently spent stamina. It seemed teenage hormones were not lost in the least bit when it came to Draco Malfoy, if not amplified in light of Draco Malfoy's immediate recovery.
Harry's eye twitched slightly when he realized two things. One, he couldn't really say much in Draco Malfoy's case because his own prick stood between his kneeling legs, completely at attention as if saluting some type of major in the army. And two, he could not think of Draco Malfoy's name without thinking the whole thing. Not even the –Draco- (Malfoy) could be distinguished. He snapped himself from his thoughts when he realized Draco Malfoy's eyes had yet to turn from him, silver gaze still staring into his own uneasy ones.
For a moment he thought he had done something wrong and he waited patiently, albeit warily, for the blonde to shout obscenities at him for "manhandling his sexy little Draco Malfoy". Harry couldn't help but grin at the name he had given Draco Malfoy's happy stick, even though his grin was directing in the face of the owner of "sexy little Draco Malfoy". But never mind that.
"What are you grinning at, Potter?" Draco Malfoy asked him lowly in what could have been a groan if it was not Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Control who managed to turn the recently released Harry Potter on when he came with half lidded eyes, bursting silver flames for eyes and perfectly parted lips framed by slightly flushed cheeks. But he was, therefore, it could not have been a groan.
"Nothing." He tried to cover his grin with a seductive smirk like Draco Malfoy but did not succeed when the cock in his grip twitch appreciative at Harry's voice. Draco Malfoy's hand slowly removed Harry's hand from it's quite comfortable place around Draco Malfoy's cock and he pouted, pushing other thoughts away as they both sat back on their heels.
"Nothing?" Draco (Malfoy) smirked, standing after a moment. "I'll note that." With his usual (Draco) Malfoy smirk of sexy wickedness, the blonde yanked his robe from under Harry, causing the Gryfindor to land on his back, elbows propping him up and legs spread, knees lifted slightly.
The Slytherin raised an eyebrow at the position, brushing the thought that the pose was intentional from his mind along with the lustful, kinky thoughts that wanted to take advantage of Potter's current pose. His internal clock already said he was going to be a bit late for Transfiguration if he stayed and he could always fuck Potter later. Never mind the fact that the Gryfindor was given the opinion of choice by whoever created him. That didn't matter in a Malfoy's world and so, as the Malfoy heir, it didn't matter in his specifically. Speaking of such, he did not forget anything, the curse a generic gift from his father, his earlier statement about eternity coming to the forefront of his mind. He frowned slightly.
In the blink of an eye, literally to the still somewhat overloaded Gryfindor, Draco (Malfoy) was dressed and running a skilled hand through his hair to arrange the locks in a sexy hanging look that looked deliberately snogged compared to what he imagined his own hair looked like. The Slytherin sent him a smirk and left the room with a flourish, only pausing in his stride once.
"See you soon, Potter," he called seductively, the Potion's room door closing behind him with a soft click. Even the soft click of the door was sexy. And here Harry Potter sat, in the middle of the Potion's room. Little Harry Potter proud and hard and starting to throb in its need for immediate attention. Harry Potter was so fucking screwed. Little did he know that after (Draco) Malfoy's earlier comment, those words would take on a whole new meaning.
Needless to say when Harry entered Transfiguration twenty minutes late and stumbling with all the grace of a lanky teenager, he would undoubtedly be obtaining a detention, especially when McGonical was off having a 'meeting' with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape was watching the class.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, so nice of you to join us," Snape drawled as soon as Harry entered the room as if he had been expecting him, "why don't you take a seat?" The Gryfindor found it odd that he didn't immediately dock about fifty house points and give him a month's worth of detention immediately and found himself slightly disappointed that he didn't.
He took the seat next to some Ravenclaw girl with a blushing face and no name, slightly amused when he glanced over at Ron to see the red head's pointed frown. He had told Ron he may have had a bit of a crush on the tall, menacing, stringent Potion's Master, last night had had planned on sharing this with his tall sexy Professor. After all, being exposed to Snape almost every night for the past three months was cause for anyone to gather a soft spot for the great prick.
Then again, he had not been in his dorm room last night and he –had- come to breakfast rather late as well as this class so he could understand his friend's worry. Even if Ron flat out disagreed with his attraction when he admitted, like a good friend, that he found the billowing robes and constant hassling a turn on.
"Potter?" Said Professor's pale face came into his line of vision when he came back from his thoughts. He felt his breath hitch slightly at onyx eyes as well as Snape's proximity though they were at least two feet apart, Snape's large, manly hands resting on his desk as he glared down at a blushing Harry.
"Yes, professor?" He whispered, refusing to hold Serverus' penetrating gaze for too long.
"I know it's hard for you to concentrate on anything anymore but would you kindly pay attention in my class?" Snape's sweetly sarcastic voice poured over his ears. Malfoy? Malfoy who? He wondered how he could have been attracted to that mere…boy in light of this masculine tower of menacing manliness before him.
"Yes, sir." His octave lower voice caused the professor to pause in his next snide remark. Then again, the raven-haired boy thought as Snape glided away, eyes peeking over the rim of his glasses at Snape's backside through his long lashes, Draco did have a better ass. Instead of long dark hair that caused his pale skin to stand out astoundingly, he opted silver blonde tresses, compliment of the Malfoy name, which complimented his pale complexion, giving the blonde a somewhat surreal look about him to match his Adonis body.
Harry shivered slightly at a particularly dirty little thought of Draco tied to the bed he had been tied to the night before, Snape shagging him senseless, pale skin sliding wetly against paler skin. At that thought his eyes traveled to the blonde's usual seat just in front in back of him, turning his head as discreetly as possible to find Draco smirking at him, an eyebrow raised. His mind put pieces together slowly, keeping in mind that he would have to actually ask the blonde git why he was tied to a bed in the middle of Snape's classroom. He should have known the blonde fuck would be watching him.
And of course, Potter was completely right. He had witnessed the entire exchange between his favorite professor and his favorite fuck buddy. He made a mental note to inquire about that after he fucked the Golden Boy nine ways until the next Friday, today being Wednesday. At the thought, Draco's still very eager cock twitched excitedly and he was torn between hating himself for making himself wait and loving himself for drawing the delicious agony out for the next hour or so.
He licked his lips, aware of Potter's eyes on his person and catching the slight shiver from the raven-haired boy from his peripheral vision. This, he concluded, would be well worth the wait.
The period had never been as long as it had to one Harry Potter. Snape had given them a lot of book work, some problems the only Potter child truly couldn't understand and every time he would ask the tall, pale Potion's Master, the Professor would helpfully assist. By leaning over him, breathing on his neck and running those long, pale fingers across the page the problem resided on, torturing the Golden Boy. And Draco was no better. After the book work was done, which Harry thanked the Gods for a chance to not ask Snape for something else before his Professor noticed something about Harry's odd shifting and sweaty palms, Snape had them doing some of the transfigurations they had went over in their books. Harry was paired with Draco.
The youngest Malfoy smirked softly at Harry, allowing silver orbs to run the length of the nervous body before him. Draco drank in every twitch or odd movement the Golden Boy made as he rose from his seat and walked awkwardly over to him. The Slytherin looked pointedly at Blaise, raising an eyebrow at the still sitting boy before the darker Slytherin of them both stood and walked toward his partner, Wealsey, with a scowl. Draco's smirk sharpened as the Gryfindor became closer, his soft smirk tuning into that of a predator, pulling the chair Blaise had been sitting in closer to his own until the seats touched.
"Hello, Potter," he growled when he could speak without raising his voice in the slightest from his sexy whisper and patting the wood of the seat welcomingly.
"Malfoy," Draco absolutely adored Potter's new vocal cords and almost pouted when the Boy Who Lived glared at him and removed the seat from his grasp, scooting it a good foot or two from Draco. Harry plopped into his seat and ran a tired hand through his hair, trying his best not to make any sudden movements that would cause the problem between his legs to increase. Trying to ignore the blonde by his side, Harry set up the pot and pen they would need to transfigure into rodents, his eye twitching somewhat as he ignored Snape's swagger toward the two of them.
"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," the tall professor nodded, arms crossed 'menacingly' over his chest as he glanced at Harry and made eye contact with his favorite pupil. The look shared between the two of them, allowed Harry a few seconds of confusion in escape from his hormone-induced trance. That was not a look one shared with their student or professor. "I trust the two of you will find amble time in your busy schedules to actually complete your assignment instead of attacking one another at knuckle and tooth," he drawled, Harry shivered. Draco caught the action through his peripheral vision.
The Gryfindor watched longingly as Snape bellowed away, robes smacking some random students in the face. Harry was pulled from his admiration by a soft chuckle to his left. He frowned and looked to Draco.
"What?" It seemed the Golden Boy wanted to speak as little as possible, maybe he -had- noticed Malfoy's reaction to his deep alto voice.
"Oh come on, Potter," Draco chuckled, leaning unnecessarily close to the Gryfindor, motioning with a finger for him to come closer. Harry blinked innocently at the Slytherin and leaned in until his ear was aligned with Malfoy's lips. "It's obvious you fancy Snape, got a thing for cauldrons and tight black robes?" he whispered breathily and Harry felt his face heat up before he could stop it. The blush spread evenly across his cheeks before traveling the length of his jaw and down his neck.
Draco's tongue slithered out of his mouth and licked a wet travel over the hallow of Harry's ear, moving back after hearing the satisfying sound of the Gryfindor's shocked gasp.
"How did you," Harry tripped over his words, attempting to grasp himself in his embarrassment, shock and arousal, "what gives you that idea, Malfoy?" He produced a half ass sneer and tamed his blush the best he could. The Gryfindor was such a little whore when he acted all innocent and embarrassed.
"I can't blame you, Potter," he smirked, leaning back in his seat and opening his legs wide, allowing any on lookers full few of his hard, pants clad prick. "That tall, muscles, pale, evil professor look gets me every time, then again I don't mind the short muscled tan, school boy look either…" Harry refused to blush, striving, instead, to ignore the blonde git at his side. A light flicked on in Harry's head and his head snapped to the side, eyes boring intensely into Draco's flashing silver orbs. "I wondered when you'd put the pieces together, Potter," he chuckled and not a moment later the bell rang.
The Slytherin waved his wand with a flick over both the pen and pot on his side of the large desk, a rabbit and a rat appearing in place of the Muggle objects. He smirked at Potter and tossed his bag over his shoulder, standing with a fluid motion and in a few glides Harry was left staring after him.
Lunch found Harry Potter in the library, flipping through page after page of Wizarding Law, stacks of similar books spread open in front of him as he frantically searched through the one before him, hand jotting down notes studiously in his opened Wiz-Book. This is how Hermoine Granger found her best friend. She shuffled over to the two-person worktable, placing the tomes she had collected onto the table in front of her with a loud 'thump', and still, the younger Gryfindor did not look up. She glanced down at one of the open books, "Statutory Rape: Professors and their students."
"Oh, Harry," she sighed, shaking her head at her wild haired friend. Harry looked up from his book and blinked for a moment before realization sank in and he smiled softly at the bushy haired girl.
"Hey, Hermoine."
"Harry, I don't think it's very wise for you to act on your feelings for Snape, especially with NEWTs so close," she cooed, sitting across from him and patting the hand resting on the book before him gently. Harry blinked again and tilted his head to the right in confusion.
"Wha-?" he glanced at the open books before looking into her sympathetic face and shaking his head hard. "No, no, no, I'm not doing this to get together with the git, Hermoine," Harry blushed.
"Speaking of which, where were you last night, young man," she sure did a good impression of Mrs. Wealsey. Harry cringed at the thought of telling Hermoine what he was doing last night instead of the lie that was already flowing from his lips.
"Oh, I kinda was almost caught by Finch and when I ducked into a storage closet I guess I fell asleep," he laughed nervously. Hermoine miss took the laugh for embarrassment and shook her head at him, only Harry would do something like that and brush it off.
"You could have gotten hurt, Harry, or even worse, you could have gotten caught," she warned shaking a finger at him before picking up her books. "I'll tell Ron what happened to you. I don't think he's speaking to you right now cause he thinks you and Snape…well…you know," a light blush colored Hermoine's cheeks and she lugged her things away with a wave.
Harry sighed deeply, ruffling his hair and placing down his quill with shaking hands. He didn't have time for this, not with the war at full blast and the cancellation of all Hogsmeade visits. Something like this would only be offering himself to Voldemort on a silver platter; the evil wizard already knew his emotions were his weakness. And then there was Malfoy. Why wasn't the blonde git spreading his bare ass all over the school? Telling in detail how he fucked the Golden Boy until he came trembling and how he came back for more or even that he wanted their potions –professor- to fuck him, too.
Hell, Harry still wondered why the paper had yet to print anything about him. He could see the headlines now: "GRYFINDOR'S GOLDEN BOY AND SAVIOR OF THE WIZARDING WORLD AKA SLYTHERIN WANTON WHORE!" with a little picture of Snape and Malfoy smirking and mouthing enthusiastically 'he-likes-it'. Harry heaved another sigh and checked his Wizarding watch; he'd missed all of lunch, and his last class of the day. He might as well, he thought to himself; spend his free period before dinner thinking about his doom at the hand of an attractive blonde teenager. Then again, Malfoy had gotten his mind off of a lot of that, he'd gotten his mind off of all of it, actually.
Fuck, he couldn't even remember his own name when the blonde git fucked him. And that was all it was, he had to remind himself, he would not fall for the Slytherin like he'd fallen for Snape just because Draco was his first. He'd only fallen for Snape because of his tough love…not to mention those dark pools of mystery Snape passed for eyes and that tall lean body…
Harry shivered; what if old Voldie found out he had a crush on Snape, a spy for the Order? Or even worse, that he enjoyed being fucked and toyed with by Draco, son of his most loyal Death Eater? Yeah, he was so fucking screwed. He'd also never used the word fuck so much, it was such a dirty word, and he frowned at himself. Yeah, he hoped Voldemort didn't find out his secret attractions, or the dirty secret he shared with Draco Malfoy.
The Gryfindor was pulled from his thoughts by a sound off to his right, seemingly from the rows of ancient tomes. Harry looked around curiously for a moment. This section of the library remained isolated of anyone, save himself currently, and not even Hermoine traveled this far back, as this section was all old and updated Wizarding Laws.
"What a surprise to find you back here, Potter," the familiar drawl caused a rush of warmth to spread throughout his body and Harry quickly closed all the books before him, prior to looking up into the face of one of his tormentors only to find two standing in front of his table with identical smirks. He blinked largely.
"Mr. Potter, didn't the headmaster make it clear you are not safe to roam about on your own," Snape intoned, his deep voice causing a nice little shutter to erupt in the lower his body, his cock already haven stirred at Draco's voice alone.
"I'm not roaming, professor," he said flatly, attempting to hide his full body flush, placing his clammy hands on his lap. "I was merely finishing up some…research." His usual defiance stirred and he looked up challengingly into the face of the head of Slytherin, glancing defiantly at Malfoy's smirking face.
"Ah," Draco purred, grasping a book before Harry could stop him, "Legal Wizarding Age for Intercourse," he read, glancing up at Harry with an eyebrow before waving the book imploringly, "and what would you be researching, Potter?" Draco asked, his voice of mock kindness, a glint in silver orbs. Harry stood from his seat with a huff and grabbed his notebook, closing it with a snap and stuffing his bag with the schooling item along with his quill and self-closing ink, mumbling to himself.
"If you'll excuse me, Professor," he spat, eyes locked to the now bare table, the many tomes he had collected pressed to his chest save the one in Malfoy's hand. "Malfoy, I have to go check these books out."
"Not so fast, Potter, there -is- a reason we cornered you in here," Malfoy sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, the book firmly in his hand as he did so, just as Harry went to turn.
What? So, he could toss him over the table and he and Snape could have their wicked way with him. Harry shivered pleasantly.
"What are you mumbling about, Potter?" Snape questioned. Another point for Draco, the blonde git didn't question anything, he inquired. "What?"
"Nothing, professor, what did you want?" his impatience was clear in his shifting feet and wandering eyes.
"It has been brought to our attention that neither Mr. Malfoy nor yourself are safe and you are to be sent to the Muggle World America for a time being," Snape looked somewhat uncomfortable as he gestured to the table Harry had just cleared.
"You could have told me that before I picked up all my things," The Gryfindor mumbled dryly and Draco chuckled, pulling over another chair for himself as his favorite professor sat in the seat across from Harry. The Golden Boy put down his things with a series of thumps before flopping into the seat and looking at Snape expectantly. He had wondered previously when the 'Protection Service' would start. "And where in America where we be staying?" he asked, leaning back, face a blank mask he had perfected with the past two years of Occumency.
"Smallville, Kansas, United States. Mr. Malfoy will be staying with his distant relatives the Luthors and you, with your distant relatives, the Kents." Harry blinked.
"I have other relatives besides the Dursleys? And why the hell is Malfoy coming?" Harry felt his face flush in anger, confusion and embarrassment as his mind toyed with his last two words and ran over the briefing Snape had just given him.
"Yes, you do have other relatives, Mr. Potter and it is up to Mr. Malfoy whether he would like to disclose that bit of information to you…"
"What about school, NEWTs?" Harry interrupting feeling his anger building as the air within two inches of him became a few degrees warmer. "And Ron and Hermoine, I'm not leaving them," he hissed, leaning into the table to glare daggers at the unfazed Potion's Master and the still smirking Malfoy.
"Don't fret, Potter, I'm sure you'll fit right in with those Muggles," Draco chuckled and stood from his chair with a wink, gliding away with a nod to Snape, the book slipped into a pocket inside his robe.
"You have tonight and breakfast tomorrow, Potter, be ready by then." With that, the sneering black robed figure glided away. It seemed, Harry thought to himself as he leaned back dejectedly, he was more screwed then he thought. Life was just not fair for one Harry Potter. Yeah, he was so fucking screwed.
"Harry, mate, Hermoine and I waited for you at dinner, but-," Ron's cheery voice trailed off. His bright blue eyes clouded in confusion as they scanned his best friend's side of their shared, two person, seventh year dorms. Harry looked up from his trunk, placing the last of his over sized shirts into the endless cavern he had come to know as his little movable home. He sighed deeply.
"Hey, Ron," his voice, still an octave or so lower than the previous day held a sad twinge to its end, sitting back on his heels before his trunk to stare, unseeingly, at the many Wizarding pictures of himself and his friends.
"What's going on?" Ron, as usual, sounded angry about his confusion. Harry shook his head, lifting an arm to run a finger down the length of a picture of himself and the rest of the seventh year Gryfindors, all of them smiling hopefully at the picture, Ron sticking his tongue out at Hermoine and Harry.
"Dumbledore says it's not safe for me here," he wisely left out the part about Malfoy, "The Wizarding Protection service has decided I would be safer with relatives I didn't know existed and I'm to complete my schooling at a Muggle high school with Snape as my Wizarding teacher to prepare me for NEWTs." Harry tossed the folded parchment in Ron's general direction near the door behind him. He could almost feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise as his red headed friend's magic flared in anger.
Ron picked up the parchment and scanned its contents. It was just like Dumbledore to tell Harry he had other relatives a day before he would be living with them because he needed protection. The older Gryfindor vaguely wondered why Harry still followed the man so faithfully, even after he had been lied to and told he was all alone in the world save the Dursleys. Ron was certain only the thread of power the geezer had against Voldemort held his trust in the ancient wizard.
"Harry," Ron sighed, watching, helpless as Harry's shoulders shook on his slight frame, the back facing him clenching and unclenching in what the flame haired youth recognized as silent sobs.
"It's okay, Ron" the Gryfindor's voice trembled somewhat, sensing Ron moving closer to him, "I'm sure they are great people and… and I'll make new friends and find a new home and everything…" a bitter laugh broke harshly from Harry's lips, a small whine of a sob flittered through his clenched jaw. His hand rose from the picture, closing his trunk and hearing the magical click of his trunk seemed final somehow. Ron kneeled next to him, placing an awkward hand on his shoulder. He was definitely going to miss that: the awkwardness between Ron and him was a comfort he had learned to appreciate after three years of training and a lifetime of seclusion.
With one released cry, Ron found his arms full of a clutching, crying Boy-Who-Lived and a sad smile graced his freckled features, glimpsing at the turmoil Harry tried so hard to mask from even him.
"It'll be fine, Harry. I'll owl you everyday and-,"
"You won't be able to, it could be tracked," Harry mumbled into his best friend's neck, enjoying their proximity more than he would admit and not just from years of emotional withdrawal but also from the cold he felt when he had been with Malfoy, knowing that, at least in this situation, someone cared enough just to hold him.
"Then, I'll send it through Snape!" Ron's outburst prompted a chuckle. Harry grinned stupidly through his tears against Ron's freckled neck, feeling the red head rock him slowly in a comforting gesture, their awkwardness still present. "It'll be fine, 'Arry, you'll see."
"Yeah, Ron, yeah," and for the second time in two nights, the Gryfindor drifted to sleep in someone's arms.
"It'll be fine."
Breakfast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was quite the gloomy affair and it seemed only Draco Malfoy had escaped the melancholy the entire school populace had succumbed to. Draco picked his nails, bored out of his mind as he lazily watched the Golden Boy of Hogwarts being embraced by his many fans-or friends as the Gryfindor emphasized- even the teachers sharing a hug with the teary eyed Boy-Who-Lived.
The Slytherin licked his lips. Yes, the Gryfindor was especially delectable when he was upset. His face flushed and his eyes all big and puffy. Draco chuckled to himself. If only Snape were not riding the entire way with them on the train and to a 'secure location where they could Apparate'. He glared at his servants- or friends as they liked to put it- when they attempted to hug him or even share a sympathetic word, nodding regally at Zambini and scowling at Parkinson as she cried all over his best friend (servant). She really was a clinging whore. He smirked to himself, remembering fondly when Granger spelled those two words on her forehead in pimps. They still hadn't faded, by the way; yeah, life was good.
A glaring Potter whom had been calling his name for the past two minutes, appearing flustered and more than upset as he fumed before him pulled the Ice Prince from his thoughts. Yes, definitely delectable.
"Malfoy, I said it's time to go," Potter gritted out. Draco's eyes slid the expanse of his body, mentally complimenting the Gryfindor on selecting some Muggle clothes that actually matched, surprising compared to the way he dressed in Wizarding clothes. He sighed to himself at Potter's baggy blue jeans and equally baggy Gryfindor red shirt, now he, on the other hand, would not dress any poorer than the aristocrat he was.
Of course he knew he looked absolutely stunning in his fitted silver silk shirt and uniformly fitting black slacks, pressed to perfection, and accented by silver buckle black shoes, base pony-tail platinum blonde hair and stormy silvery gray eyes. His outfit completed by a cashmere trench that ended at his ankles much like a robe. What could he say? Being a wizard all one's life meant robe like wear would not be excluded from one's wardrobe so easily.
He gestured with a hand for Potter to lead the way, stepping from the entrance to allow the Golden Boy through, his smirk twitching a bit more as some of Potter's beloved friends swooned, batting eyelashes and giggling, waving at him as he graced the Great Hall with his gaze one final time.
I don't think that classifies as a cliffhanger but, hey, I tried. I hope all of you enjoyed this chapter as it was quite the break from the erotica you have been reading so far. Next chapter still to come now that you know what type of crossover this is, I hope I've left you in some resemblance of eager… You'll get to meet the Kents and Lex next chapter so I implore you to wait in eager chewing-your-finger-nails anticipation.
SUGGESTIONS ARE STILL OPEN (To those of you that have already put in suggestions, can you find yours? If you can't it is still to come, so don't worry, I haven't forgotten you)
PLEASE REVIEW YOU SEXY BASTARDS!
Until next time…
Ash