Harry's Dirty Little Secrets Chapter 28/28 Part 2/3
November
There is a bonding in November. Sadly, it’s not their own.
Percy and Oliver decided to hold it at the Burrow. The week before the ceremony was full of preparations that all the family took part in. Draco arranged for the elaborate tents, Hermione handled the catering, and Molly directed everyone on where to set the tables and chairs.
Harry was told to sit at a table along with the twins to copy the procedure Bill’s wife, Fleur, had been trying to teach them for fifteen minutes now, but his arrangement did not resemble hers in any way. They soon got demoted to clean up and ensuring that the gnomes in the garden were taken care of.
During the ceremony, Harry and Draco held hands and watched their friends promise to spend the rest of their lives together. Harry had been afraid the bonding would be uncomfortable for Draco, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.
There was nothing in his expression that said otherwise, even though Harry was feeling a little uncomfortable himself, remembering his own bonding ceremony. When Draco was off dancing with George, Harry took a moment to catch up with Ginny, who he saw serving herself a drink at the bar.
“Hey,” he greeted, coming up beside her.
“Hey yourself. How have you been? How are things with Draco?” she asked, giving him a hug.
“Good. Very good.” Her eyes sought him out and found him on the dance floor, this time with Fred.
"Is your mum still cross?" Harry asked Ginny when he saw Molly take a moment from beaming with happiness at her son’s marriage to glare at her daughter.
"Bloody furious is what she is. But I'm not ready to marry and if I want to live with Tom, it’s really my decision, isn't it." Ginny straightened her shoulders, not backing down from her mother’s censuring look.
Harry nodded, understanding her point. He wouldn’t want to be Riddle, that was for sure. But the other man seemed unfazed when he joined them a bit later and Ginny excused herself to join him at their table.
Percy and Oliver loved the gift that the Quidditch team, Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione had orchestrated: a week at the Fairmont Le Château Frontenac in Quebec, which, after seeing pictures, Harry became very interested in visiting himself sometime with Draco.
When the party wound down and the guests of honour were long gone, leaving behind only family and a lush or two at the open bar, Harry asked Draco to dance.
He tried not to step on Draco's toes, smiling gratefully when his boyfriend re-positioned his hands and took the lead. The chandeliers were shining off the blond strands and he just looked down at the man in his arms and wondered if they would ever do this again. Get married. He couldn’t help but let loose a laugh, which drew a questioning glance from Draco. He shrugged; he couldn’t believe he was having these thoughts, and, for once, it didn’t cause imminent panic.
Especially because, even though he was still not getting any, he was not becoming disinterested. He still yearned for him, but there was so much more they were sharing right now.
Like exploring Muggle cinema together.
It occured to Harry that Draco had never been to the cinema when he mentioned a film during one of their lunch dates. He decided he wanted to be the one to introduce him to Muggle entertainment, beginning with the cinema and all the different genres.
They started with horror. There was a movie called Saw 5 playing in 3D. Harry figured it was a good choice because, if it was too campy, the 3D effects might be enough to entertain Draco. The ticket seller reassured them there was no need to have seen the previous four instalments to understand this one, because they were all pretty much the same.
Harry spent the first half hour convincing Draco he didn’t need his wand and that the villain wasn’t looming over him.
He liked the way Draco wrapped his hand around his bicep and tucked his head into his shoulder when he got disgusted at the severed limbs and the torture.
“That was disgusting, Harry, and barbaric. Why do people like this?” Draco asked on their way out.
“People like the adrenaline rush they get from being scared,” Harry shrugged.
“That wasn’t scary.”
“I have bruises that say otherwise,” Harry contradicted, pointing to his right arm.
“Shut up, Harry.” Draco punched him on the arm and moved ahead.
They liked the comedies, although Draco complained that some of the humour went beyond bawdy to perverse.
They scorned romantic comedies, but Draco insisted they sit through them to complete the movie going experience. Harry saw how involved he got in the plots, smiled at his cursing of the characters and the satisfied smiles when they ended up together.
Draco also liked action movies. He was very impressed by the car chases and the explosions, the adrenaline pumping scenes and even joyfully pointed out when he spotted his car in a scene of one of the movies.
There were no fantasy movies playing in the cinema, so Harry brought over a trilogy that some of his Muggleborn friends had always raved about.
After watching Lord of the Rings, he turned to Draco to see his reaction and was surprised to see him with a pensive expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why couldn’t our elves look like those?” he mused and turned to look at Harry closely. He shook his head. “Actually, it’s better this way. If Dobby looked like Legolas, you may have been tempted.”
“What?” Harry didn’t know the particulars, but he knew he was being insulted. He pulled Draco to him and started to mercilessly tickle him.
December
He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree. ~Roy L Smith
When Draco invited him to dinner at Malfoy Manor he hesitated, not sure how he was going to be received. They arrived at the house and Harry was taken aback at the holiday transformation to the grounds and inside the house. There was a giant tree in the front room that almost touched the ceiling, but he could see more trees in the other rooms they pass, some completely silver and blue, others gold and red.
It was amazingly well done, and Harry felt bad there was no one else around to enjoy the decorations.
When they sat down to their five course dinner, Harry realised he had no reason to be nervous. At least where his reception was concerned, Lucius and Narcissa barely paid attention to him or, surprisingly, Draco.
The conversation was biting between them and the barbs were thinly veiled, not at all like their previous wit that was open to interpretation.
"They're still fighting," Draco confided, leaning toward him and encouraging him to eat.
"Why do you sound happy about it?" Harry whispered back.
"Before they had a cold war raging in here, now these conflicts are fuelled by a more passionate source." Draco’s smile was full of satisfaction, and, although Harry had no idea what he was going on about, he shrugged and dug into the delicious food he probably couldn’t even pronounce.
After licking his spoon clean of crème brulée he turned to Draco, who was busy observing his parents.
“Are you ready?”
“We can go, Harry,” Draco agreed, excusing himself from the table. Harry followed suit, saying goodbye to the older couple and shuffling out of the dining room.
“That was...strange,” he commented, helping Draco put his coat back on.
By comparison, the present opening at the Burrow was very different. The house was full of their own particular style of holiday cheer. The decorations didn’t match, old ornaments mixed with the new, elegant with silly, but it was the kind of chaos that made the Burrow feel like home.
They were welcomed warmly, and Harry was relieved to see Ginny decided to attend with Riddle in tow. Molly, for her part, was being civil enough, although Harry could tell she was struggling to contain herself.
When they started unwrapping gifts, each person eagerly ripped apart the wrapping and exchanged thank yous for the gifts they received.
"They're beautiful, Draco! Thank you!" Molly preened in front of the mirror, admiring the shine of her earrings.
"I'm sorry. I was a bit rushed this year, so it may seem a little impersonal to have gotten everyone the same things, but I'll think of something a little more fined tuned for each of you next year." Draco promised, having gotten diamond earrings in different stone settings for the ladies and watches for the gentleman.
"Well, we got an IOU," Fred said smugly.
"Does that mean anything?" George asked his brother, peering over his shoulder and sending Draco a wink.
"Within moral and legal reason, yes. Anything," Draco replied.
"Not fair. I want an IOU. I would cash it in for a car," Ron called out, admiring the shine of diamonds on his timepiece, only to be cuffed on the back of his head by his reprimanding wife.
Harry was filled with joy at Draco's words. He had said next year, which meant he was planning to stick around for that long.
"Ronald, we taught you better than that," Molly scolded him.
"It was just a joke, Mum. Draco, knows right?"
The man nodded with a brief roll of his eyes.
"You better be. Well, if we could please have your attention for a bit, Arthur and I would like to show you all something." Harry realised Arthur wasn't in the room anymore; he hadn't noticed him leave. "We would like to commemorate this Christmas with an addition to our family clock."
Arthur brought the covered clock into the room and, with a wave of Molly’s wand, the cloth was gone and the face was exposed.
"We had hands made for our new son Oliver, and also for Draco. You'll always be a part of this family," Molly assured him, Draco's mouth opening in surprise.
Harry reached out for Draco's hand, holding it between his own. "Thank you," he mouthed to Molly and she nodded.
"As for you, young man,” she said, pointing at Tom, “please come by more often with my daughter. I'd like a chance to get to know you too. I certainly don't approve of your living arrangements, but you make my little girl happy and I guess that's all I can really wish for."
Harry smiled when he felt Draco start to lean into him until his head rested completely on his shoulder, their hands still entwined. "I have your present at home. I'll get it when you drop me off," Draco whispered and Harry nodded.
"I'll give you yours too."
They stayed a while longer, revelling in the merry making and warmth of the festivities, but excused themselves shortly after a red-cheeked Molly began asking them when they were going to get married again.
The inside of Draco's flat was as luxurious as Harry had imagined. He recognised a lot of the same articles from when Draco lived with him: The dragon statue, that expensive vase Harry had always been nervous about breaking, and even the lamp Harry had been looking for was sitting there on a table. It felt like half of Harry's home was inside these foreign walls.
Draco's tree stood in the corner of the living room; it didn't seem too tall, maybe about Harry's height and nowhere near as flashy as the ones at the manor. White fairy lights were wrapped around the tree, sparkling in a blinking rhythm, and silver and red decorations hung from the branches. A simple star was placed right on top.
In front of the fireplace was a plush red rug with thin silver swirls. Two red stockings hung above the fireplace, one with Draco's name, the other, not surprisingly, with Dobby's. Harry shook his head. Hermione would love to hear about the position the elf held in this household, but he decided not to mention it, lest it spur her to start up SPEW again.
Where was the elf anyway? Hiding somewhere? Watching him from the shadows?
"Dobby has the night off," Draco answered his unasked question, casting an Incendio at the wood in the fireplace. He only turned on one lamp in the centre of the coffee table, casting a soft glow around the couch.
"Where does he even go?" Harry couldn't think of any place the elf would hang out or anything he would do for fun.
"He visits with the Hogwarts elves. He likes to scandalise them with his tales of being a free, paid elf."
Harry laughed, imagining him being a pest to someone else for once.
"Is that mine?" he asked eagerly, spotting a large flat package covered in the wrapping paper he recognised from the gifts Draco had handed out earlier that evening.
"You can open it if you like." Draco conjured a bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses, carefully filling each about half way.
He bent forward to grab the present and joined Draco on the couch, picking at the edges in anticipation.
"Stop teasing yourself. Just open it," Draco urged, taking a sip.
He tore at the wrapping paper with one big swipe down the middle, peeling back the edges until all the pieces were on the floor. He wasn't sure what he was looking at for a moment, then it came to him with startling clarity. He was looking at his family tree.
In a large gilded frame was an painting of tree. Portraits hung from its branches with names written neatly underneath in Draco's handwriting. He instantly recognised his parents, but was quick to find some of his features in the faces he didn't know.
"My father helped me with the Potter side of the tree. Hermione lent a hand with the entirety of your mother’s side," Draco informed him. "I had no idea where to start, and she is absolutely brilliant at researching."
"Thank you." He reached for his glass and shot back the sweet tasting champagne all at once.
"Now I feel like a prat for just getting you that painting."
"What painting?"
"From that guy you liked. The French guy that did shrubs or something. I noticed you spent the most time looking at his stuff, so I bought you one."
"You remembered that? The only art show we went to was months ago." The way Draco looked at him made his heartbeat pick up in anticipation.
Draco took his empty champagne glass and put it carefully on to the table. He inched sideways on the couch until their knees were touching. Slowly, he reached out his hand, tucking it behind Harry's neck and drawing him closer until their lips brushed softly once, twice. Before letting their lips meet, Draco's tongue flirted with the corner of Harry's lips, slipping into his mouth just a bit before withdrawing.
Harry breathed in his expensive cologne, relishing the scent of it on Draco's skin. Harry pulled away a little and started trailing kisses from his mouth down his neck to that sensitive spot hidden away behind his ear. Draco turned his head to give him more access, and Harry was further emboldened by the hand that was currently tracing the waistband of his jeans.
While he nipped at the long neck, he used his hands to move up the edges of his cashmere jumper until he had to pull back to help him lift it over his head. Harry began struggling with the small buttons on the long sleeve, but Draco made no move to assist him; although he wanted to hurry, he knew better than to rip the shirt apart.
He grumbled, pushing free each small button from its hole, ignoring the stifled laugh above him. He finally managed to unbutton it all, parting the edges and baring the pale perfection of his lean chest and firm abdomen. Sweeping the sides down his arms, he found another barrier as Draco held out his left sleeve, which was still buttoned at the wrist. He quickly undid the last buttons and gently pulled his arms free, leaving him half naked.
"Are you sure you want this?" he asked even though his body begged him not to ask the question.
His answer was to pull Harry's jumper and t-shirt together over his head. They leaned forward to kiss each other once again before passion got the better of them, helping each other out of their pants. Harry scooped his hands under Draco's bottom and hefted him up facing him. Draco wrapped his legs around his waist and shifted to get a better grip, rubbing their erections against each other.
Harry manoeuvred them in front of the fireplace, grateful for the muscles in his legs helping him maintain his balance as he lowered himself onto the ground, and carefully laid Draco back on the soft rug. There was enough light from the lamp and fire that he could see him clearly, skin awash with the golden warmth of the flames. Of all the beautiful people he'd taken to bed, no one had been able to rouse as much sheer need as this man did.
Even with all these months of celibacy, he was not in a hurry; he wanted to treasure Draco, worship his body as was his due.
He licked and nipped at as much flesh as he could, relearning his body with his hands and lips, revelling in the gasps from the man above. Fingers in his hair pushed his head insistently toward where Draco wanted the attention the most. He chose not to comply right away, instead kissing and nipping his lean thighs, getting close to the apex of his thighs but moving back before he came into contact.
With a familiar whine and the tightening of his fingers in his hair he finally moved. Harry ran his fingers lightly through the pale blond curls before taking hold of the erection. He licked a line from the base to the tip, catching Draco’s mercury gaze with his own.
His cheeks hollowed when he moved his lips across the shaft, alternating between small sucks to the head before swallowing him to the root. He let the saliva pool in his mouth until he had managed to suckle the entire shaft until it glistened. Draco's desperate pleas for more aroused him so much that he found his hips thrusting forward, rubbing his cock against the softness of the rug. He gently cupped his balls, rubbing two fingers close enough to his opening that he felt Draco tense in anticipation. He couldn't tease either of them any longer.
"In the pocket of my trousers," Draco panted.
At Harry's questioning look, he smiled. "I knew I wasn't going to hold out much longer."
"I would have waited however long you wanted," Harry assured him, kissing him softly.
"And I love you for that, but I'm ready so get to it," Draco ordered softly, reaching down and giving Harry's cock a firm squeeze.
Harry wandlessly summoned the lube, uncapping it and whispering a warming spell before drizzling a bit over Draco, slowly working a finger in to prepare him and using more to stretch him gently.
"I just adore you," he couldn't help but whisper against Draco's forehead.
He brought their faces closely together, maintaining eye contact while he slicked and positioned himself. He pushed in slowly, fighting not to push in all at once; he had to be careful to go slow. It had been almost nine months for both of them.
Draco's grip on his bicep let him know to give him some time to adjust. He peppered kisses on his eyelids and softly around his face, whispering how much he loved him. When his grip loosed he drew back slowly, pushing in with a downstroke as far as he could go.
The sight of Draco's back arching robbed him off his control. He shifted his hold until he had a good grip on the blond’s thighs, pressing close against his side and pulling his body to meet his deep thrusts.
He faltered in his rhythm when he used a hand to rub his thumb along Draco's plump red lip, freeing it from his teeth. "Don't hold it in," he encouraged him with a groan of his own when Draco tightened around his cock.
With his legs free, Draco curled them toward his chest, holding his knees. Harry followed, bending forward until his chest was pressed against the bent knees. His head tucked into Draco's shoulder, he could feel their bodies move together toward completion.
He hurried, making small circular motions with his hips before increasing the speed of his thrusts, sensing Draco was close. He came untouched between them; Harry could feel the warmth against his stomach and he followed shortly after.
When he was able to move, he tenderly cleaned Draco with a warm cloth he'd found in the bathroom and picked him from the floor. Draco sleepily protested, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck. He found the bedroom with no problem; he shifted Draco while pulling the covers back and sliding him beneath the sheets. He quickly followed, and, tucking himself behind him, he fell asleep with Draco's heart beating under his left hand.
On to Part Three
There is a bonding in November. Sadly, it’s not their own.
Percy and Oliver decided to hold it at the Burrow. The week before the ceremony was full of preparations that all the family took part in. Draco arranged for the elaborate tents, Hermione handled the catering, and Molly directed everyone on where to set the tables and chairs.
Harry was told to sit at a table along with the twins to copy the procedure Bill’s wife, Fleur, had been trying to teach them for fifteen minutes now, but his arrangement did not resemble hers in any way. They soon got demoted to clean up and ensuring that the gnomes in the garden were taken care of.
During the ceremony, Harry and Draco held hands and watched their friends promise to spend the rest of their lives together. Harry had been afraid the bonding would be uncomfortable for Draco, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.
There was nothing in his expression that said otherwise, even though Harry was feeling a little uncomfortable himself, remembering his own bonding ceremony. When Draco was off dancing with George, Harry took a moment to catch up with Ginny, who he saw serving herself a drink at the bar.
“Hey,” he greeted, coming up beside her.
“Hey yourself. How have you been? How are things with Draco?” she asked, giving him a hug.
“Good. Very good.” Her eyes sought him out and found him on the dance floor, this time with Fred.
"Is your mum still cross?" Harry asked Ginny when he saw Molly take a moment from beaming with happiness at her son’s marriage to glare at her daughter.
"Bloody furious is what she is. But I'm not ready to marry and if I want to live with Tom, it’s really my decision, isn't it." Ginny straightened her shoulders, not backing down from her mother’s censuring look.
Harry nodded, understanding her point. He wouldn’t want to be Riddle, that was for sure. But the other man seemed unfazed when he joined them a bit later and Ginny excused herself to join him at their table.
Percy and Oliver loved the gift that the Quidditch team, Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione had orchestrated: a week at the Fairmont Le Château Frontenac in Quebec, which, after seeing pictures, Harry became very interested in visiting himself sometime with Draco.
When the party wound down and the guests of honour were long gone, leaving behind only family and a lush or two at the open bar, Harry asked Draco to dance.
He tried not to step on Draco's toes, smiling gratefully when his boyfriend re-positioned his hands and took the lead. The chandeliers were shining off the blond strands and he just looked down at the man in his arms and wondered if they would ever do this again. Get married. He couldn’t help but let loose a laugh, which drew a questioning glance from Draco. He shrugged; he couldn’t believe he was having these thoughts, and, for once, it didn’t cause imminent panic.
Especially because, even though he was still not getting any, he was not becoming disinterested. He still yearned for him, but there was so much more they were sharing right now.
Like exploring Muggle cinema together.
It occured to Harry that Draco had never been to the cinema when he mentioned a film during one of their lunch dates. He decided he wanted to be the one to introduce him to Muggle entertainment, beginning with the cinema and all the different genres.
They started with horror. There was a movie called Saw 5 playing in 3D. Harry figured it was a good choice because, if it was too campy, the 3D effects might be enough to entertain Draco. The ticket seller reassured them there was no need to have seen the previous four instalments to understand this one, because they were all pretty much the same.
Harry spent the first half hour convincing Draco he didn’t need his wand and that the villain wasn’t looming over him.
He liked the way Draco wrapped his hand around his bicep and tucked his head into his shoulder when he got disgusted at the severed limbs and the torture.
“That was disgusting, Harry, and barbaric. Why do people like this?” Draco asked on their way out.
“People like the adrenaline rush they get from being scared,” Harry shrugged.
“That wasn’t scary.”
“I have bruises that say otherwise,” Harry contradicted, pointing to his right arm.
“Shut up, Harry.” Draco punched him on the arm and moved ahead.
They liked the comedies, although Draco complained that some of the humour went beyond bawdy to perverse.
They scorned romantic comedies, but Draco insisted they sit through them to complete the movie going experience. Harry saw how involved he got in the plots, smiled at his cursing of the characters and the satisfied smiles when they ended up together.
Draco also liked action movies. He was very impressed by the car chases and the explosions, the adrenaline pumping scenes and even joyfully pointed out when he spotted his car in a scene of one of the movies.
There were no fantasy movies playing in the cinema, so Harry brought over a trilogy that some of his Muggleborn friends had always raved about.
After watching Lord of the Rings, he turned to Draco to see his reaction and was surprised to see him with a pensive expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why couldn’t our elves look like those?” he mused and turned to look at Harry closely. He shook his head. “Actually, it’s better this way. If Dobby looked like Legolas, you may have been tempted.”
“What?” Harry didn’t know the particulars, but he knew he was being insulted. He pulled Draco to him and started to mercilessly tickle him.
December
He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree. ~Roy L Smith
When Draco invited him to dinner at Malfoy Manor he hesitated, not sure how he was going to be received. They arrived at the house and Harry was taken aback at the holiday transformation to the grounds and inside the house. There was a giant tree in the front room that almost touched the ceiling, but he could see more trees in the other rooms they pass, some completely silver and blue, others gold and red.
It was amazingly well done, and Harry felt bad there was no one else around to enjoy the decorations.
When they sat down to their five course dinner, Harry realised he had no reason to be nervous. At least where his reception was concerned, Lucius and Narcissa barely paid attention to him or, surprisingly, Draco.
The conversation was biting between them and the barbs were thinly veiled, not at all like their previous wit that was open to interpretation.
"They're still fighting," Draco confided, leaning toward him and encouraging him to eat.
"Why do you sound happy about it?" Harry whispered back.
"Before they had a cold war raging in here, now these conflicts are fuelled by a more passionate source." Draco’s smile was full of satisfaction, and, although Harry had no idea what he was going on about, he shrugged and dug into the delicious food he probably couldn’t even pronounce.
After licking his spoon clean of crème brulée he turned to Draco, who was busy observing his parents.
“Are you ready?”
“We can go, Harry,” Draco agreed, excusing himself from the table. Harry followed suit, saying goodbye to the older couple and shuffling out of the dining room.
“That was...strange,” he commented, helping Draco put his coat back on.
By comparison, the present opening at the Burrow was very different. The house was full of their own particular style of holiday cheer. The decorations didn’t match, old ornaments mixed with the new, elegant with silly, but it was the kind of chaos that made the Burrow feel like home.
They were welcomed warmly, and Harry was relieved to see Ginny decided to attend with Riddle in tow. Molly, for her part, was being civil enough, although Harry could tell she was struggling to contain herself.
When they started unwrapping gifts, each person eagerly ripped apart the wrapping and exchanged thank yous for the gifts they received.
"They're beautiful, Draco! Thank you!" Molly preened in front of the mirror, admiring the shine of her earrings.
"I'm sorry. I was a bit rushed this year, so it may seem a little impersonal to have gotten everyone the same things, but I'll think of something a little more fined tuned for each of you next year." Draco promised, having gotten diamond earrings in different stone settings for the ladies and watches for the gentleman.
"Well, we got an IOU," Fred said smugly.
"Does that mean anything?" George asked his brother, peering over his shoulder and sending Draco a wink.
"Within moral and legal reason, yes. Anything," Draco replied.
"Not fair. I want an IOU. I would cash it in for a car," Ron called out, admiring the shine of diamonds on his timepiece, only to be cuffed on the back of his head by his reprimanding wife.
Harry was filled with joy at Draco's words. He had said next year, which meant he was planning to stick around for that long.
"Ronald, we taught you better than that," Molly scolded him.
"It was just a joke, Mum. Draco, knows right?"
The man nodded with a brief roll of his eyes.
"You better be. Well, if we could please have your attention for a bit, Arthur and I would like to show you all something." Harry realised Arthur wasn't in the room anymore; he hadn't noticed him leave. "We would like to commemorate this Christmas with an addition to our family clock."
Arthur brought the covered clock into the room and, with a wave of Molly’s wand, the cloth was gone and the face was exposed.
"We had hands made for our new son Oliver, and also for Draco. You'll always be a part of this family," Molly assured him, Draco's mouth opening in surprise.
Harry reached out for Draco's hand, holding it between his own. "Thank you," he mouthed to Molly and she nodded.
"As for you, young man,” she said, pointing at Tom, “please come by more often with my daughter. I'd like a chance to get to know you too. I certainly don't approve of your living arrangements, but you make my little girl happy and I guess that's all I can really wish for."
Harry smiled when he felt Draco start to lean into him until his head rested completely on his shoulder, their hands still entwined. "I have your present at home. I'll get it when you drop me off," Draco whispered and Harry nodded.
"I'll give you yours too."
They stayed a while longer, revelling in the merry making and warmth of the festivities, but excused themselves shortly after a red-cheeked Molly began asking them when they were going to get married again.
The inside of Draco's flat was as luxurious as Harry had imagined. He recognised a lot of the same articles from when Draco lived with him: The dragon statue, that expensive vase Harry had always been nervous about breaking, and even the lamp Harry had been looking for was sitting there on a table. It felt like half of Harry's home was inside these foreign walls.
Draco's tree stood in the corner of the living room; it didn't seem too tall, maybe about Harry's height and nowhere near as flashy as the ones at the manor. White fairy lights were wrapped around the tree, sparkling in a blinking rhythm, and silver and red decorations hung from the branches. A simple star was placed right on top.
In front of the fireplace was a plush red rug with thin silver swirls. Two red stockings hung above the fireplace, one with Draco's name, the other, not surprisingly, with Dobby's. Harry shook his head. Hermione would love to hear about the position the elf held in this household, but he decided not to mention it, lest it spur her to start up SPEW again.
Where was the elf anyway? Hiding somewhere? Watching him from the shadows?
"Dobby has the night off," Draco answered his unasked question, casting an Incendio at the wood in the fireplace. He only turned on one lamp in the centre of the coffee table, casting a soft glow around the couch.
"Where does he even go?" Harry couldn't think of any place the elf would hang out or anything he would do for fun.
"He visits with the Hogwarts elves. He likes to scandalise them with his tales of being a free, paid elf."
Harry laughed, imagining him being a pest to someone else for once.
"Is that mine?" he asked eagerly, spotting a large flat package covered in the wrapping paper he recognised from the gifts Draco had handed out earlier that evening.
"You can open it if you like." Draco conjured a bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses, carefully filling each about half way.
He bent forward to grab the present and joined Draco on the couch, picking at the edges in anticipation.
"Stop teasing yourself. Just open it," Draco urged, taking a sip.
He tore at the wrapping paper with one big swipe down the middle, peeling back the edges until all the pieces were on the floor. He wasn't sure what he was looking at for a moment, then it came to him with startling clarity. He was looking at his family tree.
In a large gilded frame was an painting of tree. Portraits hung from its branches with names written neatly underneath in Draco's handwriting. He instantly recognised his parents, but was quick to find some of his features in the faces he didn't know.
"My father helped me with the Potter side of the tree. Hermione lent a hand with the entirety of your mother’s side," Draco informed him. "I had no idea where to start, and she is absolutely brilliant at researching."
"Thank you." He reached for his glass and shot back the sweet tasting champagne all at once.
"Now I feel like a prat for just getting you that painting."
"What painting?"
"From that guy you liked. The French guy that did shrubs or something. I noticed you spent the most time looking at his stuff, so I bought you one."
"You remembered that? The only art show we went to was months ago." The way Draco looked at him made his heartbeat pick up in anticipation.
Draco took his empty champagne glass and put it carefully on to the table. He inched sideways on the couch until their knees were touching. Slowly, he reached out his hand, tucking it behind Harry's neck and drawing him closer until their lips brushed softly once, twice. Before letting their lips meet, Draco's tongue flirted with the corner of Harry's lips, slipping into his mouth just a bit before withdrawing.
Harry breathed in his expensive cologne, relishing the scent of it on Draco's skin. Harry pulled away a little and started trailing kisses from his mouth down his neck to that sensitive spot hidden away behind his ear. Draco turned his head to give him more access, and Harry was further emboldened by the hand that was currently tracing the waistband of his jeans.
While he nipped at the long neck, he used his hands to move up the edges of his cashmere jumper until he had to pull back to help him lift it over his head. Harry began struggling with the small buttons on the long sleeve, but Draco made no move to assist him; although he wanted to hurry, he knew better than to rip the shirt apart.
He grumbled, pushing free each small button from its hole, ignoring the stifled laugh above him. He finally managed to unbutton it all, parting the edges and baring the pale perfection of his lean chest and firm abdomen. Sweeping the sides down his arms, he found another barrier as Draco held out his left sleeve, which was still buttoned at the wrist. He quickly undid the last buttons and gently pulled his arms free, leaving him half naked.
"Are you sure you want this?" he asked even though his body begged him not to ask the question.
His answer was to pull Harry's jumper and t-shirt together over his head. They leaned forward to kiss each other once again before passion got the better of them, helping each other out of their pants. Harry scooped his hands under Draco's bottom and hefted him up facing him. Draco wrapped his legs around his waist and shifted to get a better grip, rubbing their erections against each other.
Harry manoeuvred them in front of the fireplace, grateful for the muscles in his legs helping him maintain his balance as he lowered himself onto the ground, and carefully laid Draco back on the soft rug. There was enough light from the lamp and fire that he could see him clearly, skin awash with the golden warmth of the flames. Of all the beautiful people he'd taken to bed, no one had been able to rouse as much sheer need as this man did.
Even with all these months of celibacy, he was not in a hurry; he wanted to treasure Draco, worship his body as was his due.
He licked and nipped at as much flesh as he could, relearning his body with his hands and lips, revelling in the gasps from the man above. Fingers in his hair pushed his head insistently toward where Draco wanted the attention the most. He chose not to comply right away, instead kissing and nipping his lean thighs, getting close to the apex of his thighs but moving back before he came into contact.
With a familiar whine and the tightening of his fingers in his hair he finally moved. Harry ran his fingers lightly through the pale blond curls before taking hold of the erection. He licked a line from the base to the tip, catching Draco’s mercury gaze with his own.
His cheeks hollowed when he moved his lips across the shaft, alternating between small sucks to the head before swallowing him to the root. He let the saliva pool in his mouth until he had managed to suckle the entire shaft until it glistened. Draco's desperate pleas for more aroused him so much that he found his hips thrusting forward, rubbing his cock against the softness of the rug. He gently cupped his balls, rubbing two fingers close enough to his opening that he felt Draco tense in anticipation. He couldn't tease either of them any longer.
"In the pocket of my trousers," Draco panted.
At Harry's questioning look, he smiled. "I knew I wasn't going to hold out much longer."
"I would have waited however long you wanted," Harry assured him, kissing him softly.
"And I love you for that, but I'm ready so get to it," Draco ordered softly, reaching down and giving Harry's cock a firm squeeze.
Harry wandlessly summoned the lube, uncapping it and whispering a warming spell before drizzling a bit over Draco, slowly working a finger in to prepare him and using more to stretch him gently.
"I just adore you," he couldn't help but whisper against Draco's forehead.
He brought their faces closely together, maintaining eye contact while he slicked and positioned himself. He pushed in slowly, fighting not to push in all at once; he had to be careful to go slow. It had been almost nine months for both of them.
Draco's grip on his bicep let him know to give him some time to adjust. He peppered kisses on his eyelids and softly around his face, whispering how much he loved him. When his grip loosed he drew back slowly, pushing in with a downstroke as far as he could go.
The sight of Draco's back arching robbed him off his control. He shifted his hold until he had a good grip on the blond’s thighs, pressing close against his side and pulling his body to meet his deep thrusts.
He faltered in his rhythm when he used a hand to rub his thumb along Draco's plump red lip, freeing it from his teeth. "Don't hold it in," he encouraged him with a groan of his own when Draco tightened around his cock.
With his legs free, Draco curled them toward his chest, holding his knees. Harry followed, bending forward until his chest was pressed against the bent knees. His head tucked into Draco's shoulder, he could feel their bodies move together toward completion.
He hurried, making small circular motions with his hips before increasing the speed of his thrusts, sensing Draco was close. He came untouched between them; Harry could feel the warmth against his stomach and he followed shortly after.
When he was able to move, he tenderly cleaned Draco with a warm cloth he'd found in the bathroom and picked him from the floor. Draco sleepily protested, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck. He found the bedroom with no problem; he shifted Draco while pulling the covers back and sliding him beneath the sheets. He quickly followed, and, tucking himself behind him, he fell asleep with Draco's heart beating under his left hand.
On to Part Three