"I don't know what I've done to deserve this," mutters Malfoy. He rips weeds from the garden bed, tossing them onto the ground behind him.
Harry rolls his eyes so hard that it hurts. "We're out here because you can't keep your fat mouth shut." He readjusts his cloak to better block the crisp autumn air, the approaching evening bringing a deep chill with it. "If you'd stop bullying my friends, we wouldn't be out here."
He sees Malfoy tilt his head back in annoyance just out of the corner of his eye.
"You're the one that threw the first blow," retaliates the blonde. His hand lifts to his face, touching the swollen flesh gingerly. Harry has to resist doing the same, his own flesh throbbing in several places.
He does a better job than Malfoy in their work, but he has to agree that it's annoying. When it came to physical fights they usually just scrapped it out and carried on with their lives. This time, however, a prefect had caught them in the act and immediately reported them. Wanker.
They're silent for a moment as they work, a strange tension lingering in the air between them.
Finally, frustrated, Harry breaks the silence. "Why have you got to terrorize Hermione like you do? Is it because she broke your nose last year?"
Draco's head nearly flies from his neck as he jerks it around to deliver Harry a crippling glare. "Don't ever speak of it, Potter."
Harry smirks but doesn't meet his gaze. "Or are you just jealous that she's so much smarter than you?"
He doesn't notice Malfoy chuck the rock at him until it nails him directly in the side of his head.
"Ow! Damn it, Malfoy! Knock it off, you prat!"
"ME?! You punched me straight in the stomach earlier! I couldn't breathe for ages!"
Again, Harry rolls his eyes. "You're such a baby. It was only a couple of minutes."
He sees the stone coming this time and dodges it, retaliating by chucking one of his own. It catches Malfoy in the neck, his yelp of pain bringing a grin to Harry's lips. He jumps to his feet, the blonde jumping up right after.
"Want to go again, do you Potter?"
Harry smirks, his hands lifted defensively between them. "Are you sure you can handle it, Malfoy? You got pretty teary-eyed last time."
A strange glee rises from the pit of Harry's stomach as Draco's eyes flash with fury, but a burst of a strange light far behind Malfoy's head catches his eye. "What was that?"
"Don't try to distract me, Potter!" He has his fists already balled, a bit of red tinging his pale cheeks as his anger heats his blood.
The fight has left Harry, who steps to the side to get a better view of the landscape behind the other boy. Draco, seeing he was serious, turned to look.
The forest looms about a half mile in the distance, dark and eerie in the dwindling evening light. Well away from the school, it seemed to be separated from the warm and lively atmosphere they were inhabiting, almost appearing to exist in a a world entirely its own.
For a few moments, nothing happens. Malfoy scoffs. "I knew you were-"
He's cut off when a faint blue light flashes from the depths of the trees, followed by another of a different shade. They meet each other's eyes.
Harry is the first to speak. "Does that look like a duel to you?"
"It's obviously a duel, Potter."
Harry sneers at him as he steps forward, passing him by to get slightly closer to the trees. Another series of flashes reveals that the duel is an intense one as they steadily move to the south.
"I wonder what's going on," he says, feeling Malfoy draw up next to him.
Malfoy scoffs. "Go check it out, then."
Almost as if following an order, Harry finds himself stepping forward.
"Where do you think you're going?" Malfoy's voice is saturated with annoyance.
"Away from you," Harry half-heartedly tosses over his shoulder. He tracks the movement of the wand flashes carefully, gauging the angle he was walking so that he might enter the forest after the flashes pass by a certain point.
He's so focused that for a moment, he doesn't notice Malfoy trailing along behind him. When he does, he tosses a quizzical look over his shoulder.
Malfoy treats him to a sneer of his own. "Like I'm going to stay and do all the work myself."
Harry shakes his head. "Well, hurry up then." Despite the annoyance in his voice, he's a bit glad to have the company. Something about the frequency and explosive energy of the flashes has a stone of unease forming in his stomach.
The evening seems to draw in around them, yet the open sky, twinkling down at them, brings a pleasant sense of contentment to the pair as they tread across the field. They watch as the flashes become more stationary, the pauses between them becoming noticeably longer.
"I wonder how long they've been fighting," says Harry. "It seems like they're getting tired. Probably gone from a chase to taking cover."
"You should have been a detective, Potter," sneers Malfoy.
Harry finds himself rolling his eyes, but his gaze is ripped back to the trees when a larger-than-normal explosion illuminates what seems to be half of the forest. He swaps a glance with Malfoy and they break into a run, covering ground quickly as the light begins to fade, gradually turning into a hazy after-glow.
It doesn't take them long to break the tree line, and they keep their pace for a few yards before slowing down, their wands at the ready. A few more flashes lead them further into the trees and soon, they can make out faint shouts.
They come close enough to locate the source of the sounds and flashes, so they dunk down behind some large boulders.
The words are unintelligible from the distance they were at, but they're close enough to tell that the two combatants had indeed changed strategies to hiding, swapping spells from behind boulders of their own.
They watch in silence.
Malfoy is the one to break it. "What now, Potter? We haven't got any reason to stop them, and we don't even know why they're fighting in the first place."
Harry licks his lips, noticing that the dueling wizards are becoming noticeably exhausted. "Let's just watch for now. They might end up needing our help."
"They might just be practicing."
Malfoy's theory is disproven a few moments later when one of the wizards breaks from the safety of his boulder, making a run for the shadows further inside the forest. His opponent leaps on top of his boulder and shouts an incantation, a vicious green bolt of energy blasting through the darkness before striking the fleeing form directly between the shoulder blades.
There's an awful scream and a flash of light so bright that the boys flinch, momentarily blinded. When they manage to blink the spots from their vision, there is only one wizard standing before them. The other is nowhere to be seen.
"Where'd he go?" Malfoy's voice carries a tinge of panic.
"I'm watching the same duel you are," hisses Harry. His eyes scan the darkness. No wizard. No body. Nothing. "Maybe he teleported him somewhere."
"When he was running away?" Malfoy shakes his head. "This is bad, Potter. I don't think we should be here."
Harry turns his eyes towards him, a steely resolve hardening the green of his irises. "We have to do something. That other wizard could be in danger somewhere."
"He might not even be alive," hisses Malfoy. "We should just leave. We can go and come back with reinforcements."
"I suppose we just kindly ask him to stick around until we get back? 'Excuse me, sir, but it appears you may have committed a murder. Do you mind waiting around until we return with the authorities?'" He scoffs at the blonde and returns his gaze to the remaining wizard. "We have to stop him now, or he'll get away."
Even as he's speaking, the wizard is beginning to make his way further into the woods, threatening to disappear into the night.
"I'm going," says Harry. Without waiting for a reply, he snakes his way around the boulder and out into the open.
"Hey! Stop!" His voice rings through the air loud and clear, stopping the retreating wizard in his tracks. For a moment they're both stock still.
"What happened to the other guy?"
No answer.
"Why were you dueling out here? What did you do with him?"
Slowly, the wizard turns around, his face concealed within the shadows of the hood over his head. Harry can only make out his lips, which pull back into a sinister sneer.
"Go home, little boy. You shouldn't be out in the woods all by yourself so late at night."
"He's not alone," states a sturdy voice. Harry feels Malfoy step up beside him, his presence bringing him a stronger sense of confidence. "Answer his questions. What's going on here?"
The wizard's sneer turns into a slight frown. "Didn't your mummies ever tell you to keep your nose out of other people's business?"
"We want to know where the other wizard went," says Malfoy. For once, Harry is appreciative of the authoritarian tone that forever saturates the blonde's voice.
The mysterious wizard chuckles.
He moves with practiced ease, flicking his spell at them without so much as a verbal command.
The blast jolts Harry's wand from his hand, sending it clattering into the shadows a few feet away. The wizard is lifting his wand for another shot when Draco shouts his own incantation, sending a blast of blue energy towards the assailant. The spell is deflected with a mere flick of their opponent's wrist and suddenly Malfoy is disarmed as well, his wand joining Harry's somewhere in the darkness.
They glance at each other uneasily as the wizard chuckles to himself, rolling the tip of his wand between his fingers.
"Such brave boys," he says, sounding amused. "And what comradery. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin, fighting together. Quite admirable indeed."
The boys tense as he points his wand at them, but there's something strange about his smile that makes their stomachs go cold.
"I could just kill you both. Obliterate you, or perhaps send you somewhere near the edge of the earth to die a slow death." The smile deepens, resembling something close to a snarl. "I think I have something more befitting for you two, since you've shown such courage and brotherhood."
"We've caused you no harm. We haven't even seen your face. Just let us go." Harry's voice lacks the confidence he had hoped to portray.
He tenses as the wizard points his wand at him, the tip begging to fizzle with a strangely hued light. "I'm afraid that you won't be going anywhere for quite a while, young man." The wizard flicks his wrist and the spell leaps from the wand.
Harry flinches, but instead of racing towards him, the bolt suddenly arcs and slams directly into Malfoy, bursting like a firework as it collides with the blonde's lithe body.
Malfoy flies a few feet backwards and lands on his back, a cry of agony following the deafening crack of the spell's energy.
"Malfoy!" Harry races to his side to find him conscious, his mouth agape as he struggles to suck breath into his lungs. He grabs at Harry's cloak as he fights for air, his grey eyes alight with panic.
Harry whips his gaze back up to the wizard. "What did you do to him?!"
A sinister chuckle, and then, "Don't worry, young Gryffindor. Your friend isn't in any danger. You, on the other hand…" He chuckles again. "You're going to have a pretty hard time."
He turns and starts to walk away. Harry starts to spring to his feet, but Malfoy's hand suddenly wraps around his wrist, pulling him back down to his knees. Harry meets his eyes again to see the panic has grown. There's a watery quality to the Slytherin's eyes that unsettles something deep in Harry's soul.
"I'm here, Malfoy." His voice is soft. Tedner. "You're gonna be alright." He directs his attention to the retreating figure. "Tell me what you did! What's wrong with him?"
Harry can feel Malfoy's grip tightening around his wrist, but the sound of air beginning to flow more freely into his lungs disperses some of the panic that had started to close his throat.
"You'll find out soon enough," says the wizard coyly. He had almost disappeared into the shadows when he stops and turns. "I'll offer you one piece of advice, boy. You two will be here until completion. The less you struggle, the sooner it'll be over."
"What the hell are you going on about?!"
All he receives is another sinister laugh as the wizard disappears into the trees.
His attention is ripped away from the retreating figure as Malfoy begins to sit up, coughing on the air he was fighting so hard for.
Not knowing what else to do, he pats the Slytherin's back, all too aware of the tightening grip on his wrist. "Just keep breathing, Malfoy." He checks over the Slytherin's body where he had seen the spell make contact, but there's no visible damage. "Are you hurt? Are you in any pain?"
Malfoy finally releases his wrist, shaking his head. His hair hangs down around his face, shielding his expression from Harry's view. He takes a couple of unsteady breaths before whispering something, his fingers digging into the fabric of his cloak.
Harry leans a little closer. "What did you say?"
"I said get away from me!" snaps Malfoy, his voice so loud and vicious that Harry jumps slightly.
His shock quickly turns to anger. "Jeeze, Malfoy, I thought something was wrong. You don't have to be such a prat." He begins to stand, but Malfoy's hand snaps out like a snake, wrapping once more around Harry's wrist. He looks down at Malfoy in irritation, the blonde still refusing to look up from the ground. "Let go, Malfoy."
There's a moment of silence, and then Malfoy speaks, his voice so soft that Harry barely hears him. "I can't."
Harry furrows his brow. "What?"
Finally, Draco looks up, his grey eyes sparkling with what could only be described as terror. "I can't, Potter. I can't let go." His voice is unsteady, as if it were on the verge of breaking.
Harry feels something akin to fear stir in the pit of his stomach. He pulls against Malfoy's grip, but as he does so, he can feel the fingers tighten to an uncomfortable degree. He uses his free hand to try to pry the fingers away, but the effort only seems to make them sink deeper. He gives his arm a couple of good yanks, and while the momentum manages to jolt Malfoy's body, it does nothing to loosen his grip.
Malfoy suddenly yanks on Harry's arm, bringing the Gryffindor to his knees. Harry, startled, has no time to react before Malfoy lunges forward, knocking him onto his back. His skull makes solid contact with the ground, a burst of stars clouding his vision for a few seconds before his senses come back to him. Malfoy already has his wrist pinned to the ground beside his head.
"What are you doing?! Get off me, Malfoy!"
"I… I can't!" True terror is saturating Malfoy's voice, the energy of it seeping through to Harry. "I don't know what's happening! It's like something's controlling me!"
Harry swings his free hand up and shoves at Draco's chest, quickly realizing that the blonde was a lot stronger than his slim figure suggested. The Slytherin hardly seems to notice his efforts as he pins Harry's legs with his knees, immobilizing the Gryffindor's lower half with more ease than Harry was comfortable admitting. He releases Harry's wrist.
Harry takes the chance to grab the blonde by the shoulders, making a valiant attempt to roll the other boy off. Relief floods him as the blonde topples sideways, yelping as Harry knees him in the stomach for good measure. Harry springs to his feet and stands over the blonde for a second, staring down at him with ragged, panicked breathing.
Draco lifts his eyes. "Run, Potter." Even as he says this, he's getting to his feet in a fashion that made it seem as though he was fighting a magnetic pull. As if every fiber of his being wanted to stay down, but something was forcing him up.
Harry hesitates, torn between his own panicked confusion and his concern for the conflicting emotions tearing across the pale face of the Malfoy before him.
"RUN!"
Something lurking in Draco's voice sends Harry into a full-blown sprint. He doesn't bother trying to find his wand, and he doesn't dare to try to argue. Yet even as he flees, he can hear Malfoy's footsteps pursuing him.
He doesn't make it far before a hand catches him by the hair.
He screams as he's jerked backwards, both boys tumbling to the dirt in a confused mix of arms and legs. Somehow, he finds himself on his back again, the Slytherin looming above him. He opens his mouth, but whatever he had been about to say is lost as a fist makes contact with the side of his face, sending little stars to dance across his vision.
He can feel Draco fumbling with his cloak as he blinks them away, and by the time his vision is clear, Draco has straddled him and opened his cloak so that it fell open beneath him in a blanket-like fashion.
"What the hell…is wrong with you?!" He tries to buck Malfoy off but he's ready this time, stabilizing himself with ease.
Despite this, his expression is one of confused terror. "I don't know! I can't control myself!" Despite his small frame, the blonde is proving too powerful to fight.
"Malfoy…Malfoy, stop!"
Malfoy does not stop, however, continuing to overpower the boy beneath him.
Harry resists, flinging his fists out desperately, but the little contact he makes doesn't manage to slow the other boy's movements. Malfoy's eyes are crazed and there's a strange darkness in his gaze that sends a chill down Harry's spine.
He swings again, finally making solid contact with the porcelain skin of Draco's face. Malfoy goes still and for a moment, the only sound that can be heard is their desperate, panicked gasping. When Draco turns his face back to Harry, there's a trickle of blood creeping from the corner of his pale lips. "You have to try harder than that, Potter."
There's a pleading tone underlying the aggression in the Slytherin's voice.
"Hit me harder, Potter!"
Even as he says this, he's pressing Harry's arms into the ground, the weight of his body rendering the Gryffindor's struggle useless.
"You have to stop me!"
"I'm trying," Harry groans, bucking futilely. "Get off! Just let go!"
"I can't," Draco grinds through his teeth. He uses the sash from Harry's robe to lash his wrists together, binding them far tighter than they needed to be.
As he starts working at Harry's trousers, a sob finally escapes the Gryffindor's lips.
"Don't cry." Draco's voice is strangely choked. "Please, Harry," he says, his eyes beginning to water. "Fight harder. You've always been stronger than me."
Harry sobs again, his breath catching awkwardly in his chest. "I'm trying. I'm trying!"
Draco's free hand is making progress with the button on his pants, and in less than a heartbeat he's tugging the material down Harry's thighs.
Harry screams, thrashing as hard as he can, but to no avail. Draco mounts him more securely, straddling his hips and rendering his legs useless. He screams for help, for anybody, but he knows there's no hope of being heard.
"Harry, be still."
"You're hurting me!"
"Stop struggling! Seriously!"
Against his instincts, Harry goes as still as he can, his chest continuing to heave dramatically. Slowly, Draco's vice-like grip loosens to a more bearable degree, freeing the blood to flow to Harry's hands. As soon as he realizes this, Harry tries to rip himself away, but as soon as his muscles begin to tense, Draco's hands close just as tightly as they were before. They lock eyes, each of them quickly coming to the same realization.
"I think it's…I think it's something like the Devil's Snare," says Draco, his breath hot against Harry's throat.
Harry, trembling, allows his body to go limp under the blonde's, and sure enough, the aggression bleeds out of Draco's muscles, the contact he was making with Harry's body turning almost tender. They stare at each other in silence, their panted breaths turning to a fine mist between them.
"So…what now?" Harry's voice quivers, but he holds Draco's gaze steadily.
Draco swallows hard. "He said… he said 'until completion'."
Harry's eyes close against those words. "You mean we have to…"
"I can't pull away," says Draco. "Whenever I try, I seem to lose control and…I can't stop myself from…from hurting you. When you…" he closes his eyes against the absurdity leaving his mouth. "When you fight, it only makes it worse."
"So, it has to happen either way," says Harry in resignation. "The only choice we have is violently or…or not."
"Seems so, Potter," whispers Draco. Hesitantly, he moves one of his hands from Harry's wrist and slides it down his arm, trailing over his shoulder and collar bone until it comes to rest against his cheek. His eyes are reflecting Harry's.
"Do you trust me, Potter?"
Harry stares up at him, his face throbbing and his arms aching.
"I guess I have to."
Draco swallows and slides his hand up into Harry's hair as he peels his other from the flesh of Harry's wrist.
Harry shivers fearfully, his gaze never wavering from Draco's.
"I'm…I'm not exactly sure what to do," mumbles Draco, his porcelain cheeks tinging pink. "I've never been with anybody before."
"Not even girls?"
Draco shakes his head.
Harry hesitates before saying, "Me neither." He catches the expression on Draco's face. "Is that really such a surprise?"
"Well, yeah, I mean…" he hesitates. "You're Harry Potter."
"And you're Draco Malfoy. Surely you could have had your pick of the litter?"
Draco's fingers caress Harry's scalp, making the Gryffindor shiver. "Nobody ever caught my fancy, I suppose."
Draco's touch is noticeably gentler as his hands glide down Harry's chest, the raven-haired boy shivering under the chill of his fingers. The blonde dips down and presses his lips against Harry's jugular, feeling the heat of his thundering pulse through the delicate skin. Harry makes a sound that reverberates through Draco's mouth, sending a hot spark straight to the pit of his stomach. Harry is deathly still as Malfoy applies several more kisses to his neck, attempting to distract him from the fingers brushing against his exposed hip bones.
"I'm scared."
Harry's voice is so soft that the breeze nearly steals the words away.
Draco pauses, raising his eyes to meet those gorgeous green orbs Harry had been blessed with. Sure enough, they're glinting with unease, yet they stare back at him with the same bullheaded stubbornness that they had always possessed. Draco lips his lips hesitantly.
"Do you…do you want to…to lead?"
They both grimace at the suggestion, but Harry shakes his head. "No. I'm just…" Tears prick at his eyes, magnifying the reflection of the moon above them. "I'm so sorry, Draco. It's my fault we're here."
"Toss off, Potter," says Draco. His voice lacks any contempt. "This isn't your fault, and its not mine."
Harry shuts his eyes, the tears spilling over his cheeks and into his hair.
Draco pulls him up into a sitting position and wraps his arms around him, surprised at how solid the other's boy's body is underneath his touch. The embrace brings a cloud of warmth down around them.
Draco feels Harry sigh unsteadily, his warm, shuddering breath making him shiver as it passes over his shoulder and by his ear.
"Let's…let's get this over with," Harry murmurs, gripping Draco's cloak.
Malfoy, despite feeling the Gryffindor's trembling, can't help but feel some alien force driving him to move his limbs.
Harry's cloak had already fallen away beneath them, so Draco's next target is his shirt, which he pushes up and over the Gryffindor's head with the grace of a two-legged frog. His clumsy hands don't go unnoticed.
"Nervous, Malfoy?" Despite his unease, Harry's mouth twists into an attempt of a smirk, though his trembling lips and glittering eyes do little to lighten the mood.
"Yes," whispers Malfoy.
His honesty seems to take Harry by surprise because he catches Draco's gaze, looking into his eyes as if searching for something.
"What does it feel like?" he whispers. "The curse?"
"It feels like…. It feels like there are two people controlling me. There's me, saying what I'm saying, and I try to fight these urges but then there's…. something else, forcing me to…making me want to…." He trails off, his hands tightening on the shirt in his hands. "I don't want to hurt you, Harry, but when I try to resist these feelings…" As if to demonstrate the thought, one of his hands reaches out and rests against Harry's throat, his fingers squeezing oh-so-slightly. "It's like trying to seal a boiling kettle."
The sensation of Harry swallowing beneath his touch sends a strange thrill through his stomach. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against Harry's lips, taking them both by surprise.
He guides Harry onto his back, laying him down on his cloak. Harry shudders against the harsh autumn air, the breeze assaulting his exposed skin with icy fingertips. Noticing this, Malfoy grabs his own cloak and fans it out so that it drapes down over both of their bodies, loosely encompassing them in a velvety cocoon.
"This doesn't have to be…unpleasant," Malfoy says gently. His fingers ghost over Harry's jaw, down his throat and across his chest, sending insane volumes of shivers through the Gryffindor's lithe body.
Draco practically winces against the absurdity of his own words. His eyes widen slightly as the Gryffindor responds.
"O…okay," says Harry, sliding a hand up Draco's arm. Seeing the Slytherin shiver, he traces it over the other boy's bicep and onto his chest, coming to rest over the boy's thundering heart. Draco closes his grey eyes, panting into Harry's mouth as the Gryffindor's hands slip under his shirt, the chill of his fingers sending shocks through his limbs.
The sensation of whatever curse had been placed on him is growing stronger and he can't help but lean down and re-capture Potter's lips in another kiss. This one, however, he finds himself sinking into, deepening in a way that he hadn't been aware he was capable of. Harry's hands go to the front of his shirt, gripping anxiously at the fabric as Draco's mouth forces his lips open, their tongues meeting in a way that sends electricity through both of their bodies.
Harry can feel magic crackling in the air around them as Draco's tongue tangles with his own, finding himself unable to tell what kind of magic it actually is. He tries to speak, but Draco swallows his voice, leaving him no choice but to simply whimper into the Slytherin's mouth. Pale fingers find his chin and grip his jaw with a little too much force, another trailing down his bare stomach to his trousers, still caught around his thighs.
"Malfoy…Malfoy, hold on…" Panic is beginning to creep back into Harry's veins as Draco's fingers tug at the fabric. Draco seems unable to heed his pleas, his movements stiff and jerky as if his body were possessed. Desperately, Harry reaches up and grabs both sides of Draco's face, leaning back in for more of that attention-consuming kiss that Draco had started.
Relief floods through him as Draco's hands falter in their mission, the one gripping his jaw loosening slightly as his other abandons his clothing to rest on his hip, dangerously close to his nether regions.
"I can only try so hard, Potter," Malfoy whispers into his mouth. His fingers grip the flesh of his hip in a way that was sure to bruise.
"I know," Harry murmurs back, placing more kisses along Draco's jawline. "I know, just…please…try to take it slow." He kisses Draco's throat, his mind racing, and is surprised to feel the Slytherin hum beneath his attentions. His hand slides from Harry's jaw to his chest, the one on his hip gliding over the smooth skin of his stomach, his fingertips briefly dipping into his navel on their journey.
Harry lets his own hands slide from Draco's face down his torso, slipping his fingers underneath the blonde's silky shirt once again. Draco makes a noise that Harry can't quite describe, but guessing from the pink tinging the other boy's cheeks, he can tell that Draco isn't opposed to the sensation.
He runs his fingers over perfect porcelain skin, entranced by the shuddering of the other boy's muscles beneath his touch. His fingers glide from Draco's stomach to his back. Draco gasps, jerking almost violently as Harry brushes his nails over the tender flesh along his spine.
"Sorry, did that-"
"Feels good," Draco murmurs to him, his breath heavy against Harry's skin.
He opens his eyes, the grey orbs finding Harry's gaze, locking on with primal intent. Harry allows his fingers to cover more ground, relishing the sight of Draco shuddering beneath his touch, refusing to break eye contact. His fingers dance down the Slytherin's lower back and up again, every inch he covers charging the blonde with a sexual energy.
Draco leans in and presses a kiss against Harry's throat, his hand brushing over the hem of his boxers. The protest that Harry begins to form is cut off when Draco presses another kiss against his lips.
Harry jumps as Draco presses his palm against his crotch, cupping him gently. His face alights with heat as Draco grins knowingly against his lips.
"I can't help it," Harry says quietly, turning his head to the side to hide his embarrassment. He shudders as Draco gropes his increasing excitement.
"I'm glad," Draco whispers. He presses a bit more firmly, trailing down to press a kiss against Harry's throat. His stomach flares up with a satisfying heat as he feels Harry groan through the delicate skin, the brunette's fingers dragging across his flesh.
Without giving any warning, Draco slips his fingers beneath the fabric of Harry's boxers, boldly grabbing onto his length. Harry groans beneath him, bucking into his touch. Draco doesn't waste any time getting to work, and from the increasing noises eliciting from the raven beneath him, he seemed to be doing a decent enough job.
Harry's hands slip down his back and over his hips, coming around to fumble at the buckle of Draco's belt. He remains silent as Harry clumsily undoes the buckle, kissing the Gryffindor's throat and collar bones.
A gust of cool autumn air alerts him to Harry's success moments before he feels the heat of his hand grip his length with a little too much force.
"Easy", he breathes shakily, never faltering in his own attentions. "It's not a bloody broomstick."
"Sorry," Harry murmurs in return, loosening his hold. Draco hums deep in his throat as Harry matches his rhythm.
Draco is diligent in keeping his pace as he pushes Harry's boxers the rest of the way down, hoping that the increasing shudders he feels from the other boy aren't the kind that evolve from fear.
The only sounds exchanged between them are pants and groans as Draco trails kisses down Harry's throat and chest. Draco doesn't give Harry time to break the silence between them as he sinks even lower.
Harry gasps and grabs Draco's head with both hands as the blonde takes him into his mouth, unintentionally bucking up into the hot, wet cavern. He groans helplessly as Draco chokes, the vibrations sending his senses into complete overdrive.
"Oh, god," he groans, barely aware of Draco's hands pushing his hips back to the ground.
Any other words he might have conjured are choked by the moans he can't help but produce as Draco bobs up and down, the heat of his mouth seeming to melt his conscious thought.
He isn't aware that Draco had moved his hand until he feels a solitary digit probing at his entrance, and he's so enthralled in the Slytherin's other attentions that he doesn't manage to address the issue until he feels the finger plunge into him.
He gasps, gripping Draco's hair and yanking his head up with far too much force.
He immediately wishes he hadn't. The look in the eyes of the blonde-haired boy borders deranged, showing no sign of being bothered by the pain. His tongue passes over his lips in a way that Harry had only witnessed in carnivores during a meal.
He maintains eye contact as he grabs Harry's thigh and forces him to hike up his leg, allowing him to move his other hand more freely. Harry groans as Draco forces in yet another finger, the odd sensation turning to one bordering pain.
He puts his hands on Draco's shoulders, digging his nails in as Draco works his fingers in and out of him. Harry shudders at the alien feeling, whimpering softly.
"Does it hurt?"
Harry gasps into his mouth as Draco presses in as deep as he could go.
"Don't…ask…stupid questions."
Draco feels a pang of remorse as tears slip over the brunette's cheeks. He leans down and presses another kiss against those trembling lips.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm trying to be gentle."
"You're doing a shit job," Harry replies shakily. He attempts to deliver a joking smile, but it turns into a grimace as the bolt of pain grows more intense.
Draco hisses as Harry's nails dig into his shoulders. He tells himself that the sensation of blood escaping from his flesh is merely his imagination.
Harry's resolve breaks when yet another finger intrudes, his whimpering turning into soft sobs. Even Draco's mouth on his throat does little to distract him from the discomfort. Draco releases his leg, and Harry closes his eyes as Draco shimmies his own pants down to expose his pale erection.
Draco's motions become more forceful for a moment before he extracts his fingers, but Harry doesn't allow himself to feel any relief. He can hear Draco working with the fabric of his clothing, can sense him drawing closer, if that was even possible. Again, Draco's hand forces Harry's leg up, causing the raven-haired boy to shudder as cold air caresses tender skin. He claws at Draco's shoulders, refusing to open his eyes as he feels something brush against him.
Not a finger.
He bites down on his tongue as Draco forces himself in, choking on a scream that he doesn't quite manage to contain. Draco's hands are on him, lifting his legs, shifting his weight around, but all he can focus on is that intense, awful agony intruding on his body. He sobs openly, hot tears spilling over his cheeks.
"It..hurts," he sobs, pushing against the Slytherin's shoulders, knowing that it was futile.
"I'm sorry," Draco whispers. His movements are slow, but it doesn't help the pain, raw and incredibly intense. "I'm sorry."
Harry pries his eyes open to lay them on Draco's porcelain silhouette, a flawless statue against the night sky above them. Tears glimmer in those silver eyes, slipping down the swollen flesh of where Harry had hit him earlier.
"Why am I always the bad guy?" Draco's words are barely a whisper, hardly even audible past their panting and Harry's sobbing, but they manage to make their way to Harry's ears.
Harry blinks and sees more clearly that Draco's mouth is pulled into an agonized grimace, his tears flowing almost as steadily as Harry's.
Harry's hands shake as he lifts them up to Draco's face. Draco goes still for a moment as Harry cups his cheeks, their gazes colliding with an impossible energy that neither of them would ever be able to explain.
"This isn't your fault," Harry whispers to him. "You know it isn't."
Draco closes his eyes and turns his head slightly, pressing his lips against Harry's wrist.
"Let's just...get through this, Malfoy. We can be sorry for ourselves after."
Draco meets Harry's gaze again, giving him a small nod.
Draco's grip on his leg lessens, his hand sliding down the length of his thigh to find its way back to Harry's now flaccid member. Harry shifts uneasily but immediately regrets it as Draco moves inside of him, pressing into places that he was unfamiliar with.
Draco groans and begins thrusting again, but this time he strokes Harry's member at the same rate, setting a steady pace that soon has Harry's length beginning to harden.
Harry's arms drop to the ground, his fingers digging into the cold dirt beneath him. His cloak manages to guard his body from the discomfort of the terrain, but it was doing nothing to ward off the nighttime chill. He shivers violently, closing his eyes and trying to imagine something to distract himself from his reality.
"You're beautiful, Potter."
He opens his eyes and turns his gaze back up to Draco. With the way the Slytherin is panting and continuing with his attentions uninterrupted, Harry believes for a moment that he might have imagined it.
"What?"
Draco meets his eyes, his gaze clouded with what could only be described as unbridled lust. "You're utterly gorgeous."
"That's…the curse…talking," Harry whispers, his voice hitching with Draco's slow but unrelenting thrusts.
"It has nothing to do with magic." Draco's hands seem to be growing hotter with every moment that passes, and soon Harry is completely oblivious to the woods around them. With every thrust the pain is melting into an alien pleasure, the pressure of their connection seeming to cause some sort of itch that was self-relieving.
"Draco…" His voice is nothing more than a moan, saturated with something he had never experienced before. He doesn't notice how needy he sounds, how the whine at the back of his throat seems to increase the force the Slytherin is using.
He whimpers as the increased energy causes the ground beneath him to bite through his cloak, grinding mercilessly against his back. Draco is pressing kisses to the inside of his calf, leaving hickeys so dark that Harry can see them forming even with the lack of light around them. It can't distract him from the pain, however, and his wincing becomes increasingly noticeable.
He whimpers in protest as Draco's hand leaves the area between his legs, the Slytherin's hands sliding across his skin to come around to his back.
Draco pulls Harry up so that he's straddling his lap. The Gryffindor yelps as Draco plunges deeper, his head snapping back to expose his throat as his nails dig into Draco's narrow shoulders. Draco growls and hungrily sinks his teeth into the exposed skin, sucking greedily.
"Better now?" he mumbles around his mouthful of flesh.
Whatever reply Harry might have had is drowned in a deep, stomach-melting moan. Draco grins wolfishly and increases his pace, the heat in his stomach swelling intensely as Harry's voice fluctuates with his thrusts.
"I'll take that as a yes." His hands go to Harry's hips. He forces the Gryffindor's body to move opposite to his, making their contact with each other much more forceful. He's surprised at how easy it is to manipulate Harry's weight, shifting and lifting him almost effortlessly. It crosses his mind that the noises eliciting from the Gryffindor in his lap should be outlawed, the sounds seeming to wash away what little self-control he had managed to cling to.
Harry makes a choking sound as Draco drives deep inside of him, throwing his head back so violently that he nearly rips himself out of Draco's grip.
"Th-there…" he chokes, sounding very much unlike himself. "Please…"
Draco doesn't need further prodding, thrusting up and pulling Harry's weight down in the same fashion repeatedly, his mind going blank as his senses overload with pleasure. The only thing he can hear is Harry's guttural moaning, impossibly wanton as it floods the air around them. He grabs the back of Harry's head and draws him into another aggressive kiss. Harry's moans fill his mouth, vibrating down his throat all the way to his stomach.
"Harry," he groans, his voice half a whimper, "I'm so close…"
"Me too," Harry whimpers. He tangles his fingers in the Slytherin's platinum locks, distantly logging it as one of the most pleasant sensations he had ever experienced.
Draco had never felt a hunger as desperate as he was feeling right now. There is no space to speak of between them and yet he finds himself wishing he could be even closer, a feeling that grows stronger with every moan that the Gryffindor feeds into him.
Harry's voice sounds like it's caught in his throat as he shudders violently, his body seeming to tense and melt in the same instance. Draco feels him tighten around him, the Gryffindor's hands clenching aggressively in his hair. Heat spreads across his stomach and he knows that Harry has reached completion.
Draco can't help but bury his teeth in the Gryffindor's shoulder as he reaches his own climax, growling like an animal as the sensation rocks through his body. He crushes Harry in a constricting embrace, pleasure and pain mixing in an intoxicating haze that seems to take them both into another realm.
They pant against each other as they slowly float down from their highs, their grips on each other loosening to a more tender degree. Draco retracts his teeth from Harry's shoulder and rests his head against him, listening as his breathing slowly mellows out to reveal the thundering heartbeat beneath. That, too, eventually begins to slow.
After a while Draco looks up, surprised to find Harry's eyes staring back at him.
Harry lifts a hand and Draco flinches. Instead of a vengeful blow, the touch Draco feels against his face is gentle, gliding down his cheek to cradle his chin. Draco opens his eyes in time to see Harry lean in, pressing their lips together for one more agonizingly tender kiss.
Draco watches as he pulls away. "What was that for?" the Slytherin whispers.
Harry pants against his mouth for a few moments, refusing to break eye contact.
"I'm not entirely sure," he murmurs. "Just felt right."
Draco chances a shaky smile, petting his thumbs along Harry's cheek bones. "Thanks, I think."
Harry mirrors the excuse for a smile. "This is just another stone in the road, Malfoy. Stumble. Recover. Carry on. Right?"
Draco's eyes flicker with something close to appreciation, the silver reflecting the moon. "I suppose so."
For a moment they rest, letting the night air cool their feverish skin.
"What now?" Draco's voice is uncharacteristically soft. Vulnerable.
Harry closes his eyes and sighs. "I don't know, Malfoy. I don't know." He opens his eyes again and holds Malfoy's steady gaze. "But we'll figure it out."