Author's Note: Oops, I did it again. I played with your hearts, and didn't update (oh baby, baby). But I promise I think about this fic a lot and want to finish it! Which is still way off by my procrastination skills and penchant for grandiose planning. Anyway, how great is gay sex?

Chapter 10: That October Eve

It was a long, long reprimanding when three adults were disappointed in the behavior of their students. Dueling! Parents would have to be contacted as well. The Headmistress was writing the letters for the owls as the two younger professors took on another lecture about the dangers of resolving conflict with magic.

"If you had successfully paralyzed him, what would you have done next, hm?" Professor Potter asked Tate, who was the more resistant of the two boys. "We would have traced It back to you and the punishment would have been even more severe."

Tate just rolled his eyes.

Draco's nose flared slightly. These boys—sixteen, seventeen—were strangers to combat and war. He was trying not to go too hard on them; trying not to sound like his father when he was disappointed... But Walsh was looking like he might burst into tears, so Draco took a moment to temper himself. He had to be patient, strike with the question about Emily in just the right way.

"I just wanted him to learn his lesson," Walsh protested. "What about that speech you gave us at the beginning of the year, huh?"

Draco raised a brow. "Yes, what about it?" Draco asked. "Should I have specified that fighting each other would result in house point reductions?"

"No, uh, I mean—" Walsh went impossibly redder.

"I said," Tate piped up, eyes narrowing on Walsh. "Your little girlfriend—"

"She is not my girlfriend!" Walsh defended.

Draco and Harry exchanged looks. Could he be the father? And something still tickled the back of Harry's brain about the way Ms. Byers wouldn't reveal his identity. He would have to apply a little more pressure now with the knowledge Walsh at least appeared to have feelings for her.

"She's not as innocent as you think! That's what I said!" Tate snapped back.

Tate's voice had oozed implications of impropriety, and that left Draco to wonder if he was the father, too. This game of teenage wizard chess was getting stupidly complicated, like all youthful drama was.

"Has Ms. Byers broken any school rules?" Harry asked Tate, missing the implications entirely.

Tate snorted. All the Slytherins understood, it seemed. Tate turned a silver gaze on Harry. "What I mean, Professor Potter, is that she's a slag."

Walsh's embarrassment and confusion turned to fury, and every adult in the room had to pretend that they had never heard a word so naughty or bad before in their long lives. "Mr. Tate!" McGonagall said with a controlled severity. "Five more points from Slytherin! We do not use such language about your peers!"

"Right, here at Hogwarts where everyone is just braiding each other's hair and singing songs. This place is an embarrassment. You have no clue what goes on with the students here," Tate snarled.

"Then," Draco prompted through teeth that confirmed he was not asking nicely. "Inform us."

"The parties, the meetings in the woods, along the lake…"

"Meetings? What kind of meetings?" Draco pressed. "Was Emily Byers involved in these meetings?"

The look on Tate's face turned disturbingly comical. "Involved? You really know nothing then. Wow. Well done." Tate laughed. "That's all I've got to say."

"Like hell it is," Harry snapped. He'd had it up to here with the pubescent antics. "Who is meeting in the woods?" That sounded more concerning than any of the other things. Parties could get dangerous, sure, but in the cover of the Forbidden Forest some terrible things still did lurk.

"Ask Emily."

"I intend to, Mr. Tate. But I'm asking you, and I am asking now." There was a chill in the air. Everyone but Harry felt it, a shiver down their spines. Harry was getting angry. And when the most powerful wizard since Merlin got angry, his very magic seemed to move with him. "Who is meeting in the Forest?"

"Her, and some of the Slytherins, and some Ravenclaws… And you wouldn't believe it, but there's a Hufflepuff In the mix," Tate scoffed, trying to laugh off the uncomfortable sensation that filled Headmistress McGonagall's office. "Just ask them. All I see is them sneaking off to do Merlin knows what to each other out there."

"That's not true!" Walsh argued, and the conversation was set to run in circles from there on in. The two boys glared at each other while Tate was made to write down the names of everyone he recognized sneaking out. After further reprimanding and a promise of detention for the weeks to come, both were released back into Professor Malfoy's care and escort to the dungeons.

"Of all the ignorant, ridiculous things…" Draco muttered after shutting the two Slytherins back onto opposite sides of the Slytherin boy dorms. He still couldn't parse it. Why had Emily been off in such a dangerous place? And what of the others that were apparently there with her? The names Tate had provided were of students all over their years and gender skews. What did they have in common?

The questions buzzed in his mind as he set back up the stairs from the dungeons. He needed to see Harry in private for several reasons.

One, their students had all gone mad while they weren't looking.

Two, they hadn't gotten the chance to be alone with such chaotic schedules, and enchanted parchment only went so far.

Three, Harry had been incredibly, incredibly hot when he was angry.

Draco barged into the quarters of Professor Harry Potter and found the man himself sitting on the chair he'd used to show Draco the yearbooks when he first arrived at the school. Draco would have to ask at some point if that was Harry's idea of being smooth.

But when Draco caught sight of Harry's face, his own mirrored the frown. "Hey," Draco said, walking right up to him. "That was… Intense. How are you doing?"

Harry said nothing at first, just reaching for Draco's hands. Draco gave them gladly. Harry poured over them a moment, taking in the Malfoy signet ring on Draco's right ring finger.

"I'm better now," Harry decided in that very moment. "But that was… yeah. I don't know what to make of half of it. We should set up patrols on the edge of the Forest. Tom Riddle might not be lurking around anymore, but that doesn't mean someone or something else isn't. Emily… I thought she had a good head on her shoulders."

"Quickies after detention is one thing," Draco agreed, laughing bitterly. "But the mention of there being a link to Death Eaters… I honestly thought my heart dropped out of my body hearing those words again." It wasn't like him to be so… uncomposed. But something about Harry's hands gripping his made Draco feel out of sorts and warm all over.

Harry squeezed Draco's hands, making him nearly jump out of his skin. Thankfully, Harry was so focused on Draco's grey eyes that he was oblivious to body movement. "Draco," he said firmly. Draco's stomach flipped, his eyes now unstraying from Harry's emerald ones. "He's gone. Tom Riddle is dead."

"Merlin, it's so fucking weird when you call him by his Christian name."

"He was just a man," Harry reminded him. "Just a man. His ideology of hatred was potent, yeah, and there are still those in the shadows who mourn him. But he's dead. The movement won't rise without their leader, especially when he so publicly lost a duel to teenager. Pretty embarrassing stuff, if you ask me."

That got a laugh out of Draco. "Cocky. But I supposed you've earned it," he relented. Draco looked down to Harry's hands. He'd missed him. Uh-oh. He'd missed him. Draco cleared his throat. "So, we meet with McGonagall tomorrow morning about an action plan for the students. I assume you have many ideas for this plan, but… Maybe let's table them for tonight on both our sides?"

Harry beamed. It simply wouldn't do to spend their limited private time on their jobs entirely. "Yeah. Let's." He moved to his feet still holding Draco's hands. Gosh, was Draco tall. Harry looked up at him and soaked him in for a moment. "I owled Ron and Hermione, you know. They weren't as shocked as I thought they'd be, just told me to be careful. I suppose that's all I can ask for."

Draco could repress his own smile no longer. "Pansy wanted every single detail. I told her to behave, and I would tell what I want to tell when winter break comes around. She's going to ply me with drinks for more, but I am actually quite good at keeping my private life private. Unless the chance to brag comes up, because you know I never pass that up."

"I'll have to give you something to brag about, then," Harry asserted, not caring any longer how strongly he was coming off. Draco had actually informed someone in his life that this—what they had—was real. It filled Harry with energy.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Well, well." He clicked his tongue and slid one of his hands up Harry's arm to rub his shoulder. "You always have been bold, haven't you?" Draco's hand moved up the back of Harry's neck to rub at where his dark hair started on his neck. "What did you have in mind?"

Harry held in a shudder to keep from seeming too pathetic. A few simple touches and he was melting in Draco's grasp. "Um," Harry said, racking his lust-addled brain for an answer that wasn't positively filthy. They would ease into that with time, he hoped, but if this truly was going to be the night he'd been waiting for all month, then Harry was going to take it slow. "Here," Harry said, releasing Draco's other hand so that his own could smooth his palms over Draco's waist. "Let me show you."

Harry leaned in for a long, slow kiss that he could tangibly feel Draco relaxing into.

Draco wasted no time curling his other hand around Harry's shoulder, pushing them both up against each other in front of the side of Harry's bed. Draco was enjoying this, so he kept it up for a longer while as they stood making soft noises between smacks of their lips.

Nothing could interrupt them at this hour. Finally, Draco Malfoy had Harry Potter all to himself, promising a spectacular showing.

"Can I stay—"

"—the night? Absolutely," Harry answered. As soon as he parted his lips to speak Draco's tongue had found a way to trace them. Harry gripped Draco's waist tighter, earning him some weakness in Draco's knees. Before long with the transformed and open-mouthed, needy kisses from Harry, Draco found himself easing back against the bed.

"Sit," Harry agreed. "Here, let me take your shoes off." Draco sitting on his red duvet was the perfect height for Harry to kneel and work on the laces of Draco's black leather shoes. Harry was sure they were expensive, and yet there Draco was, helping him slide them off with the urgency one might with a cursed object. Since Draco's hands no longer had a waist to grab, he leaned back against the bed with one hand and used the other to loosely grip Harry's raven hair.

The socks went next, dark grey and plush. Harry looked up at Draco as he took off his own in return, discarding them with a toss in some corner of the room.

"Harry, has anyone ever told you," Draco asked, because he could not hold it in anymore seeing Harry like this. "You look bloody gorgeous on your knees?"

Harry laughed in his deep blush. "No, nobody has ever told me that, Draco." He caressed the outsides of Draco's thighs as he spoke. "But there's nobody I'd rather hear it from than you, so I'll live."

Then it was Draco's turn to laugh and turn red. He cradled Harry's head as he'd seemed to enjoy from earlier, adding in some soft scratches and the other hand to card through his locks.

With those scratches, Harry's eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He hummed to release the feeling instead, tipping back slightly into Draco's fingers. "That's good," Harry said softly. "I want to make you feel good." Harry's hands went to the inside of Draco's thighs and found they parted easily for him. He looked up to Draco, eyes searching for a response.

Draco answered his questioning gaze with bringing one hand forward, the thumb pressed to Harry's lower lip. "You've been good. You have my full permission to touch me with your hands," Draco granted. "And mouth." He rubbed Harry's lower lip.

Finally catching on, Harry smiled wide before curling his lips around Draco's thumb. Draco watched in complete awe as Harry sucked him up and down the length of the digit, never breaking eye contact once.

Draco couldn't help himself, he moaned at the sight, gripping Harry's jaw with his free fingers. Oh, this was going to be fun.

The sound of Draco's moan traveled all the way down Harry's body like his spine was a lightning rod. He was determined to prove something, or maybe just to get to that bragging status with Draco's friends. Either way, it reminded Harry of everything else they'd even done with each other—competing and showing off. So, Harry Potter resolved to give the best blowjob of his damned life that October eve.

Harry's hands kneaded, gently at first, Draco's spread thighs. He dipped his head down to kiss each clothed knee and then work his way up to the hip bone. Draco sat perfectly still, almost in disbelief. There was one thing, though, he could not keep from stirring.

Draco's manhood came to life under the tight press of his trousers and underwear. Harry saw it and moved his hands up to frame it but not touch it directly yet. Draco choked back a noise to see how intently Harry was looking at it, like he was completely obsessed.

For all his infatuation with Draco's hardening cock, Harry slid his hands around it still to go undo Draco's belt buckle. While he worked, though, why not show a little appreciation? Harry dipped his head down and pressed firm kisses up the outline of Draco in his trousers. This made Draco squirm with delight. "Oh, mmm…"

"It really was a tragedy I wasn't made Prefect in school so we could have shared a bath," Harry spoke against the bulge, nearly drooling over it. "Always imagined you had the prettiest cock." He pulled the belt out of the loops and slid Draco's trousers down so that only a pair of black underwear separated Harry's lips and Draco's skin.

It was perfect torture; this teasing Harry was putting him through. Draco got his trousers off and took care of his underwear on his own.

Harry grinned like a madman. Draco's erection stood pink and bulging, a vein up the side looking particularly beautiful. "Fuck, I was right," Harry breathed warm breath over it. "So pretty."

Normally Draco took compliments well, but to this he could only respond with a strangled groan, wriggling under Harry for attention. This man had barely touched him yet and Draco could see a bead of precome forming on his tip.

Harry's eyes flicked right to the most lovely cockhead he'd ever seen. Oh, how would he ever get any grading done ever again with this mental image now available to him? He wrapped a possessive hand around the base and practically purred when it caused Draco's grip in his hair to tighten.

Harry's tongue was the next part of him to make contact with Draco. He licked a long, slow stripe up Draco's prick and licked up the leaking slit.

The noise Draco made in response was from the gut. "Merlin," Draco gasped, hips twitching.

"Mmm, actually, it's Harry," Harry corrected from his place Draco's cockhead. "But I can see where you'd get confused." He swirled his tongue and started to suck on just the tip.

"Harry…" Draco expressed emphatically. Harry deserved as much for how he was making Draco feel. "That mouth, fuck…"

Harry pulled off for a moment. "Be as rough as you like with me," he instructed. "I'll let you know if it's too much."

Draco nodded, eyes blown wide. Did Harry know what his definition of 'rough' was? Draco could be brutal if he really was in the mood for it. He'd give Harry a taste of it, he decided.

Draco readjusted his hold in Harry's hair, both hands now like vice-grips tugging Harry down like an order to pleasure him. That made Harry's own untouched cock jump in his pants. Harry moaned, opening wide to take Draco's impressive girth in and slowly slide down on it.

"Yes," Draco hissed, pushing his own legs open wider. "That's right…"

Harry, breathing through his nose, slid all the way down until the tip he'd been so lovingly sucking hit the back of his throat. Draco keened, which was exactly what Harry was listening for. He eased back up, and then went down again and again like he had on Draco's thumb. Working his tongue along with his lips, Harry relaxed his throat and took the slight gags that were inevitable with as much grace as he could.

"Harry, oh, that's fucking incredible," Draco lauded.

Harry hummed in response, the vibration of his throat driving Draco wild.

"Harry, Harry-!" Draco belted out as Harry swallowed around him, sucking greedily. Draco's hips started moving up, meeting Harry's mouth each time with a sobbed moan from the both of them. The disbelief had not yet worn off that it was Harry bleeding Potter sucking his soul out of him, so Draco cried his name out into the castle air as many times as it took for him to believe it.

"Harry, oh, Harry…" Draco had been trying his best to last his longest, his own competitive nature peeking out, but the 'savior' glasses on Harry's face were now skewed and fogged from the vigorous cocksucking. It was that sight that let him knew he wasn't lasting much longer. "I'm close," he gasped, loosening his grip just in case Harry wanted to pull back.

Harry did not pull back. Both hands gripping Draco's hips, he breathed deep and took him all the way in again. Draco cried out, hips twitching in his grasp. "Harry," he prayed. "Harry, Harry, Harry-!"

It made Harry immensely proud to feel Draco was going to come right before he felt the orgasm hit him. Harry had done that. Harry had made him near-scream with his mouth alone. Harry had gotten the seed of a once-loyal pureblood down his throat.

There was nothing left to do now but swallow it, Harry committing the taste to memory. That was what victory tasted like.

Shaking, still wearing a black dress shirt, Draco looked down at Harry batting away moisture in his eyes. "Harry. Fucking hell. That was amazing." It dawned on Draco that Harry was also still fully clothed. That wouldn't do. When Harry finished licking up every last drop he stretched up for a kiss. Draco gave it to him readily, using the lapels of Harry's shirt to pull him in and start unbuttoning there. "You," Draco murmured through their kisses. Draco could taste himself on Harry's tongue still. "Are pretty damned good at that."

Harry laughed and it felt strange from how he'd taken so much of Draco in. "Yeah," he growled in a wrecked voice. "Well, a good artist always credits their muse." Harry motioned to Draco right before Draco got his shirt off.

"So now you're an oral artist, hm?"

"Do you disagree?" Harry stole a nip of Draco's lower lip. He set next to Draco's buttons. This time, he didn't even flinch to see the scars he'd given Draco. Which he was sure Draco appreciated.

"Oh, hardly. But there's this thing about art—it doesn't exist in a vacuum," Draco said in his professorly voice, getting another laugh out of Harry. "We learn through comparison. I am offering you my take on the subject in return for a piece well done."

Harry perked up.

"Come here, dear. Let me take care of you next," Draco beckoned. Harry practically scrambled up onto the bed after being called 'dear'. They were both smiling like mad. Draco got a few more kisses for his own satisfaction before helping Harry lay back so his head was on the pillows.

Harry eased back into his bed, the bed he'd never even considered getting laid in before this year, before Professor Malfoy rejoined the Hogwarts family. Harry had wanked a great deal in his lonely professor life, but never allowed himself to get his hopes up for more at work. Teenagers were also pretty disgusting—big turn-off for the adult Harry Potter.

But now he had another adult in his bed, and not just any adult—Draco fucking Malfoy, who was undoing Harry's belt buckle and trouser zipper in record time.

Once the trousers were off, Draco looked to Harry. Harry nodded, heaven help him, smiling. So Draco removed his underwear and licked his lips to see Harry revealed. In all his naked glory, Harry squirmed under Draco's heavy gaze. So many questions flew through his mind.

Would Draco mind his bit of a belly? Or object to his chest hair? Draco himself was so perfectly preened, and Harry felt a spike of insecurity regarding himself.

"Harry…"

Harry gulped.

"You are beautiful." Draco, having never thought a single negative thought about Harry's body since their little reunion, maintained that streak effortlessly. He pressed a tender kiss to Harry's lips, one he felt Harry relax into with a spark of joy in the pit of his stomach. It was Draco's turn to show off, now. "Just lay back," Draco whispered. "I'm going to take care of everything."

Harry did as he was told, taking deep breaths as Draco trailed his hands down over Harry's sternum and back up. One drifted to the side, ghosting over one of Harry's dark nipples. Harry gave a visible shudder.

"Oh?" Draco asked, his grin turning wicked. "Are we sensitive here?"

Harry, mortified, nodded. "Y-Yeah."

"Good. You've got a lovely chest, and now I know just where to start." Draco swung a leg over Harry, straddling his waist and getting into the most comfortable position with perhaps dramatic movements of his hips.

Harry was pretty sure his soul was leaving his body. Draco felt like heaven atop him, and he hadn't even really done anything yet.

When Draco touched him next it was with his tongue, head dipped down to lick a thick stripe over Harry's right nipple. Breath rushed out of Harry's lungs. In turn, Draco parted his lips and blew on the now-wet skin, a cold air that made Harry's nipple perk up.

"Oh," was all Harry could say, gently slipping his hand into Draco's famed platinum hair so he could encourage him for more.

Draco hummed, pleased with how Harry's body was reacting to him. He knew just behind him that Harry was hard as a rock, but he was in no rush. Instead, Draco closed his lips around the stood-up nipple and sucked, tongue darting out to flick against it.

A frankly pathetic noise left Harry. How unfair—of course Draco would find his weakness so early, and exploit it so gleefully. "So good," Harry rasped, his throat still raw from how deeply he'd taken Draco.

Draco's other hand flew to Harry's other nipple, giving it experimental squeezes and tugs to see how much Harry could take of this. Every pull of the ruddy nipple made Harry gasp and groan, though, and even moreso when Draco went harder.

"Draco," Harry pleaded.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you uneven," Draco teased, swapping his hand and his mouth so they were now on opposite nipples. Harry whined, pushing his chest up into Draco's increasingly rough machinations.

It was when Draco's teeth grazed his right nipple that Harry's moans grew even louder. Harry saw a flash of the signature Malfoy smirk—damn him, why was he so good at this?—before the teeth came back down in earnest.

Harry cried out, toes curling under as legs went wider open. His grip in Draco's hair and on the bedsheets pulsed. "Fuck," Harry whimpered. "Yes."

Draco fought another smirk, focusing on the task at hand. He nipped at Harry's sensitive skin, stealing little bites between kisses and sucks. Draco continued this until he could feel Harry's chest rising and falling faster. Once it did, then Draco pulled off the nipple with a soft 'pop'. He looked to Harry's face, flushed and with an expression of pure bliss.

"That nice for you?" Draco asked. With the advantage of having already gotten off, he was taking things slow, too. He wanted to see what Harry liked best.

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded, reduced to mere syllables in his self-expression he was so damned turned on.

"Good. I'm going to suck you off now."

"Yes, please," Harry nodded more emphatically.

"Oh, I quite like that word on those lips," Draco cooed as he worked his way down Harry's body. What a dirty boy it was who saved the entirety of their world. Draco was obsessed.

When he was face-to-face with Harry Potter's hard prick the feeling of obsession only grew.

"Say it again," Draco prompted, silver eyes burning. He traced with one soft fingertip the curve of Harry's scrotum.

"Please," Harry shivered. "Please."

"Please what?" Draco asked like he had no idea what Harry wanted.

"Please, please suck my cock." Harry was delirious with want he didn't care how desperate he sounded. "Pretty, pretty please."

Draco's jaw nearly dropped. Harry Potter said 'pretty please' for head? He couldn't deny that. "Good boy," Draco soothed, his hand coming back up to close like fist around Harry. Harry didn't know if it was the contact or the petname, but he was leaking now and couldn't find the space to feel shame for it.

Draco worked his hand up and down Harry's shaft before coming to smear his precome around the tip. Even Draco couldn't resist any longer. He parted his lips and started taking Harry in, inch by precious inch.

"Yes!" Harry threw his head back, both hands in Draco's hair as that wet heat sank down around him. "Oh, yes, yes…"

Once Draco had him all the way in, he could feel the resistance in the back of his own throat. He relaxed, taking a few breaths of just soaking around Harry before he started swallowing. Harry's whole body reacted to it, a twinge of perfect pleasure.

Harry's moans carried up through the room as Draco sucked, gagging at moments and then recovering by bobbing his head. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from this sight, the blonde head rising and falling between his legs. It took everything in him not to blindly thrust up into such a wonderful, tight feeling as Draco's throat fluttered and sputtered.

In absolute bliss, Draco sucked around Harry like his life depended on it. He would give as good as he got, and he'd gotten it pretty damn great. Draco breathed through his nose, inhaling Harry's scent each time the tip of his pointy noise was pressed into the dark dusting of hair above Harry's cock.

Draco would have laughed at how most of his childhood had been committed to insisting 'Potter Stinks' and now he would do anything for that clean but musky, manly scent, if his mouth wasn't already occupied.

"Draco," Harry groaned with the movements of Draco's head. "Oh, Draco, Draco, Draco…"

That sounded even better than a 'pretty please' with the way Harry's whole mouth formed around the word, around his name. Draco doubled his efforts in response to this, glugging noises coming from his regal throat.

"Draco! Oh, fuck, Draco, I'm gonna come," Harry warned, and this only seemed to make Draco go harder. Piercing grey eyes looked up from his mouthful into Harry's green eyes. Draco wanted to watch Harry fall apart—see him at his most vulnerable.

Draco got what he wanted.

With a final shout, Harry's body tensed tight before releasing. It felt like a release of all the worries and troubles of his day. Hell, of his lifetime. Harry was floating, breathing ragged but deep. "Draco…"

It was a beautiful thing, making Harry Potter come. Draco decided then that he'd simply have to do it more often, and in as many ways and positions as possible. He gulped down Harry throughout the orgasm, making sure not a drop was spared from Draco's mouth. Harry tasted incredible.

Draco eased Harry out of him, giving a little cough and then a kiss to his cockhead. "Damn," said Draco, voice thoroughly run-through. "Look at you…"

Now slumped into the bed from exhaustion, Harry was laid out like a lounging god. "Draco," Harry urged, unable to think of the phrase 'please get in my arms right now, gorgeous man', so he just did grabby-hands at him until Draco caught on.

With a broken laugh, Draco gladly climbed up Harry's body so he could kiss him deep. Harry's arms immediately folded around Draco, pinning him atop him like the ideal weighted blanket. He could taste himself on Draco, giving Harry a last aftershock shiver of delight.

When they broke apart for air—Draco definitely needed some—Harry made sure Draco didn't move an inch. "You're brilliant," Harry murmured. "Fucking brilliant."

"Yeah, and you're worth bragging about, I'd say," Draco shot back, nuzzling their cheeks together. Harry had a little stubble, but it was nice on Draco's bare skin. "Mmm. Seriously, though, Harry…" Draco looked into his eyes. "I meant every word. You're so beautiful." He kissed up Harry's jawline so he could nibble on his ear. "Thank you."

"Believe me, I've got my share to thank you for," Harry laughed, exposing his neck so easily it almost scared him. He trusted Draco now. Truly and deeply. If Draco were to break that trust… Well. Harry didn't like to think about that kind of heartbreak. But there was no point in dwelling in unpleasant possibilities when the current moment was so wonderful. "I'm glad you're staying the night, because I don't think I'm going to let you move from this spot for at least an hour. But once you do…" Harry smiled. "D'you think you'd want to be my big spoon tonight?"

"Harry, darling, I could want nothing more."