Conception of Dreams (Chapter Eight)

[freakingcrups]

Chapter Eight

Draco didn’t wake again until a couple of hours later. Harry didn’t have the heart to awaken him, so he was glad that he woke before the time to visit McGonagall’s office approached. Draco didn’t apologize again; he just huffed and stated that Mundy deserved it. While Harry disagreed, he knew that Draco was only trying to come up with reasons to make himself feel better about it. He was not a killer, he had proved that before, and so Harry assumed that he felt bad for nearly killing Mundy.

Draco had told Harry that it wasn’t illegal for him to do so as he was an Incubus and he was considered to be fencing off a possible threat. If he had killed Mundy, the Ministry couldn’t do anything about it. It was stated in the magical creature law that Incubi were allowed to do such things. Although, Harry had a feeling that didn’t make things easier on Draco, considering he nearly killed a man a year younger than them; an innocent man.

When they finally reached the office, Draco had gone quiet again, not even uttering the password - Harry had to do it. As they walked through the door, they were greeted by the stares of Professor McGonagall, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Mundy and two adults who appeared to be his parents and Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry sighed, knowing that this was going to be bigger trouble than he had first anticipated.

They took their seats beside the Malfoys and McGonagall spoke first.

“As you have been told, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, Mr. Malfoy is an Incubus and thus he was protecting his mate when he thought there was a threat.”

“That is no excuse,” the woman who spoke - Mrs. Winchester - was a pudgy woman with greying black hair and dark brown eyes. Her nose was pointy, her eyebrows thick and her chin quite wide and round. Her thin lips were upturned in a sneer and the beady brown eyes turned on Harry and Draco, accusingly. She was far from a pretty sight and Harry assumed that Mundy inherited his cute appearance from his father, who sat beside the quiet boy staring at the ground. He had to remind himself not to mention this fact to Draco, just in case it brought on a new bout of rage.

“I assure you, Mrs. Winchester, it is,” Mr. Malfoy drawled, taping his new cane on the ground impatiently, “my son has every right to protect and defend his mate.”

Harry was sitting the furthest away from Mr. Malfoy, who sat on the left (with Harry to the right and the two other Malfoys between them), and he thanked Merlin he was. He could hear the venom dripping from the older man’s voice and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it. It was different from what Harry had ever heard from him and he assumed it was because this particular situation had to do with Draco and a life sentence in Azkaban for attempted murder. Harry shuddered at the thought. They wouldn’t dare.

“Absolute poppycock. Minster, I wish something done about this boy,” she hissed, her condemning staring turning to Kingsley, “he shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“No!” Harry stood from the chair, ignoring the surprised looks from Lucius Malfoy and Kingsley. “It’s my fault. I provoked the reaction out of him because I touched Mundy’s shoulder. If anyone should be punished, it should be me.”

“Oh don’t be silly, boy, they won’t punish you! You’re the Boy Who Lived,” the woman growled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Malfoy smirking at him and Harry realized that he had clued on to what Harry was playing at. They wouldn’t touch Harry and by him taking the blame, the whole situation would disappear and quickly.

“Being that Mr. Draco Malfoy is an Incubus, no laws can be passed against him,” Kingsley spoke strong, his voice loud, most likely to get his point across.

“I will take this to the Wizengamot, Minister, I will. They will see justice in punishing him. The Kiss, I say, he deserves The Kiss!” Her voice was becoming frantic and screechy in desperation.

“It won’t happen again, Mrs. Winchester. Draco…” Harry glanced at Draco, who contemplated him with an intense stare, “and I have sorted out our problems. If we allow the students to know the truth about our situation, then there would be no worry in regards to anyone else being hurt. No one will touch me and I will touch no one but Draco. At least until I give birth.”

“Birth?” Mundy finally looked up from the ground and his eyes widened, “You’re pregnant?”

“I am,” Harry confirmed with a smile, “Only a couple of weeks though.”

“Three,” Draco finally spoke up. He stared at Mundy and Harry wasn’t sure if it was meant to be intimidating or not. “He’s three weeks pregnant with my twins.”

“Oh,” Mundy grinned then, a wide toothy smile as he glanced from Harry to Draco. “Congratulations! My older brother is gay; he’s in a relationship with a lovely fellow, a Muggle. The Muggle was pretty surprised when he found out my brother was pregnant.”

“Really?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “How far along?”

“Eight months. Not long before I’m an uncle. I can’t wait because - ”

“Oh enough, Mundy, stop playing nice. Your brother is a ponce who has been disowned from our family,” the woman beside him spat angrily. Harry was positive that he even saw spit land on Mundy’s face, which made him grimace. “Just like these filthy animals. Ponces, the lot of them.”

Lucius Malfoy stood from the chair, extracting his wand out of his cane, and pointed it at the pudgy woman. As if she was expecting it, Mrs. Winchester stood as well, her own wand drawn from her robes and flicked it, directing it straight back at him.

Harry rose as quickly as he could and took one large step, standing between the two wands, and raised his hands in a stopping gesture to both of them. “Stop! This is ridiculous.”

“Potter…” McGonagall stood from her chair, her face stern as she moved around the desk.

Before she came anywhere near him, Harry was pulled back from behind, out of the firing range, by warm long arms that wrapped out his stomach. His back was pressed against Draco’s chest and a warm cheek pressed against Harry’s. “Keep out of the way, Potter,” Draco whispered into his ear, “or I’ll hurt both of them for aiming their wand at you.”

“We have to stop them, Malfoy. This is ridiculous,” Harry struggled against Malfoy’s hold, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the arms.

“Enough!” Kingsley stood, his massive form towering over Mrs. Winchester’s form. He rested a hand on her shoulder and glared between her and Mr. Malfoy. His eyes rested on Mrs. Winchester. “It would be wise, Mara, not to insult these boys or their family. Am I clear?”

Mrs. Winchester raised her chin defiantly, but said, “Of course, Minister.” She replaced her wand and sat down in her vacant chair again.

When Kingsley’s stare turned on Mr. Malfoy, he sniffed indignantly and also replaced his wand. His eyes darted to look at Harry and Malfoy before taking his seat. A thank you for defending them was on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he held it back. It wouldn’t do well to surprise Mr. Malfoy is such a way.

Malfoy tugged at Harry and they both retook their chairs.

Kingsley then sighed and raised a hand, “As Minster, my word is final. Mr. Malfoy was doing only what his instincts forced him to do and that was to protect his mate. As such, all pending punishment for his actions will be cancelled. If you have a problem with that, Mrs. Winchester,” he looked directly at her, his dark eyes accessing her carefully, “then I am sorry, but there is nothing you can do about it.”

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded none the less. It was strained, just like her hands that curled into fists, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to argue with the Minster of Magic.

She stood, “If we are done then, my family will depart.”

McGonagall nodded and with that, Mrs. Winchester grabbed Mundy’s arm, pulling him to his feet roughly and pushed him towards the door. Her husband rose as well, but his long face, pale and withdrawn, didn’t show any emotion as he walked towards the entrance. He didn’t even look like he comprehended where he was or what was happening. Before he walked out of the door, Mundy smiled at Harry and waved, before he was pushed out of the door by his mother.

The door clicked closed and Harry sighed loudly. “That woman…”

“Very strange, isn’t she?” Kingsley raised an eyebrow, but his gaze never left the door that the family had just exited. “I’d be careful of them, Minerva, I don’t trust Mara.”

“Indeed,” McGonagall nodded and walked around the desk again to take her seat. “However, this conversation is not finished. Lucius, Narcissa, you understand my predicament.”

“We do, Minerva, however even Minster Shacklebolt agrees that Draco was doing only as his instincts forced him to,” Mrs. Malfoy crossed her knees and rested her hands in her lap, giving her the appearance of the elegant woman that she was.

“As that may be,” Kingsley waved his hand, “we still have the problem of the chance of it happening again. Mr. Malfoy is a danger to the students at this school.”

“But he’s not!” Harry exclaimed, sitting on the edge of his chair. “Kingsley, it was my fault, not Malfoy’s. If the students know what’s going on, they won’t touch me and I certainly won’t touch them.”

“Yes, but some students are young, Potter, some will try to touch you just for the adrenaline rush. You remember when you were a first year, Potter, the rush you felt when you fought that troll in the girl’s bathroom.” McGonagall looked at him over her half-mooned glasses with knowing eyes.

“Please, Professor, I’ll do whatever you want. I…” Harry bit his lip and glanced at Malfoy. He had his eyebrows raised in surprise as he watched Harry argue his point. Apparently he was stunned that Harry was defending him. “I need him here,” he finished as he turned back to look at McGonagall.

“Potter, it’s not that easy unfortunately.”

“But you can’t expel him or anything. That’s practically discrimination!”

McGonagall pursed her lips, “Discrimination is not the issue, Potter.”

“What do I have to do then?” His eyes whipped from McGonagall to Malfoy to Mr. and Msr. Malfoy and back to McGonagall, “What do I have to do to reassure Malfoy’s instincts?”

“Well,” Mr. Malfoy smiled genuinely at Harry, “It would probably help if you shared a room with him. At least with the extra time with you, including sleeping beside you, it may calm his instincts that tad more.”

Harry nodded furiously and looked pleadingly at McGonagall, “Professor?”

McGonagall stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding. “Very well, Potter, but if he attacks another student, it will be on your head.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Anything you’d like to add, Kingsley?” McGonagall glanced at the Minister, but he only smiled at Harry and shook his head. “Very well, then this meeting is over. I will arrange for rooms to be set up immediately. It would be wise for both of you,” she looked at Harry and Malfoy pointedly, “to go start packing your belongings. Tomorrow, we will inform the school of your situation.”

Harry nodded solemnly. He knew that it meant that the students would look at him differently once more, some with stares of pity, others with stares of disgust. However, just like all the other years, Harry would ignore them, and pretend that he couldn’t feel the gazes burning into his back.

Harry rose from his seat. He smiled at Mrs. Malfoy, who smiled back, and walked towards the door. As soon as he was down the stairs and past the statue, a hand grabbed his arm, spinning him around and bringing him face to face with Malfoy.

Malfoy pursed his lips as he peered around the hallway. It was empty, except for some portraits that didn’t deem them important enough to pay attention to. “Thank you, Potter.”

Harry nodded shortly and raised an eyebrow, “I guess you owe me one, Malfoy.”

Malfoy snorted and rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to wank you off tonight?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry laughed and shook his head, “Is that all you think about? Sex and wanking?”

Malfoy smirked, “Well, my thoughts are a little more graphic, but I don’t think you’d appreciate them, at least not yet.”

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “No, I don’t suppose I would.” He sighed, staring down at Malfoy’s expensive looking jacket. He reached out to touch it, his fingers grazing over the long, folded collar of the black, tweed jacket. “Malfoy, you’re still a git.” He licked his lips and raised his eyes to meet Malfoy’s, “But I’m not doing this damn pregnancy alone. It’s your fault I’m knocked up in the first place. I’d rather have you by my side than imprisioned at your home or something. Just…learn to control it, yeah?”

“You think I don’t want to, Potter? Control it, I mean?” Malfoy grunted. He grabbed Harry’s exploring hand in his own and brought it up to his cheek, pressing the bare palm over his pale, warm cheek. “I try, you know? It’s bloody hard. It’s like being an alcoholic and having firewhiskey right there in front of you. How long before you can resist the temptation? My temptation is you - who the bloody hell knows why - and I can’t stop my nature. Every time I see someone move to touch you, even Granger, I want to rip off their hands and feed it to the Thestrals.” As if realizing what he was doing, he let go of Harry’s hand as though it burnt his skin and took a step back. “Just so you know, Potter, I will not have my designer clothes anywhere near yours. This weekend, I’m going to take you to get some new clothes. Yours are dreadfully unfashionable.”

“I like my clothes,” Harry protested weakly. He already knew he wasn’t going to win this battle.

“And I like some of my House-Elves, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take them out for a walk so people have to grimace at the sight of them, does it?”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Malfoy had already turned on his heel and strode in the opposite direction that Harry was going. He glared at Malfoy’s back and when the Slytherin was out of sight, he couldn’t help but shake his head. Then, he turned and made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

***

“Where the hell are you going, mate?” Seamus asked, staring at Harry’s closed trunk that sat on the bed.

Harry was fiddling with the latches until they clipped closed. “I have my own room.” All of his friends were going to find out tomorrow anyway and Harry felt like they deserved to find out from him at least.

“Why?” Seamus frowned as he crossed his arms.

Harry knew that Seamus thought he was getting special attention and in a way, he was. Just not for the reason his friend thought.

“Because Malfoy is an Incubus, I’m his mate and I’m pregnant with his children,” Harry straightened his back and crossed his arms, daring Seamus to say anything bad about him or his unborn babies.

Seamus gaped at him, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Incubus?” Ginny repeated. She turned to stare at Ron, who nodded in confirmation.

“What’s an Incubus? Like a demon?” Dean asked from next to Seamus.

“I’ll let Seamus explain it to you,” Harry shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his trunk’s handle to pull it off the bed, but before he could get very far, Hermione cleared her throat and glared. “Fine, fine,” he muttered as he pulled out his wand and flicked it, levitating the large, heavy suitcase.

Hermione nodded in satisfaction, “And are we allowed to visit?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t see why not.” He levitated the trunk in front of him and towards the door before he carefully lowered it to the ground. He turned to Hermione and smiled, “you still have my picture right?”

Hermione blushed, but nodded none the less. “I was...doing research on it.”

Harry knew she was lying, but he wasn’t going to argue. He smiled at her and brought her into a hug. He whispered into her ear quietly so Ron couldn’t hear him, “One day, you’ll make a brilliant mother, Hermione. And there is no doubt that you will be the godmother to one of my children.”

When he pulled back, he saw her hastily wiping at tears on her face. She gave him a watery smile and nodded.

“I got another bloody eight months of this,” Harry muttered with a smirk. He raised his shirt to look at his flat stomach and sighed, “Do you think I’ll look terrible when I’m fat?”

Hermione chuckled and slapped at his hands and pulling at the shirt until it was covering his bare stomach again. “Careful, Harry. Now, and especially when you get further along, Malfoy is not going to like you showing your stomach. He’ll consider anyone trying to touch it a threat. Remember, those babies and you are everything to him and he can’t help his instincts.”

“How long will this protective instinct last for?” Harry asked curiously.

“Forever, except, not to this extent. Malfoy is only like this at the moment because you just found each other and this is your first pregnancy. With the next pregnancy, he won’t be so protective and controlling. I think once you’ve given birth and once you and Malfoy consummate your relationship properly through marriage and sexual intercourse, it’ll be easier on him.”

Harry flushed at the gaping stares he was receiving. Ginny, Seamus and Dean were still in shock and Harry didn’t blame them. To them, he had gone from the Harry who ‘disliked’ Malfoy, to the Harry who was carrying Malfoy’s children in mere seconds.

“But we’ve already had sex,” he argued quietly, looking at Hermione while trying to ignore the others in the room.

“Yes, but only once. Until you have sex on a regular basis, his instincts are going to be protective and unsure. He’s scared you are going to leave him. Now if you’d just read the book!” Hermione huffed, “I’ll be right back.” She left the room in hurriedly.

“So, you and Malfoy, eh?” Seamus finally stopped gaping. He looked annoyed now, which wasn’t any better. “He’s a Death Eater, Harry!”

“Yes,” Harry admitted quietly, “but he was forced into it, Seamus. If your family’s lives were threatened, what would you do for them?”

“I wouldn’t bloody join You Know Who, that’s for sure,” Seamus shook his head and grunted.

“If it meant saving someone you love, you would do anything for them,” Harry hissed, “Malfoy had a choice of joining the Death Eaters or watching his parents die in front of his eyes.” Harry shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair and gripped a large chunk of it in frustration. “Malfoy never killed anyone, Seamus.”

Seamus opened his mouth to retort, but Ron leaned over to whack him on the back of the head. “What was that for?” He hissed angrily.

“Shut up, you wanker. Yeah, Malfoy is a pillock, but he’s an Incubus, Seamus. He’ll protect Harry; he’ll side with Harry from now on. So just leave it, yeah?”

“That doesn’t make up for his past,” Seamus stood from his bed and crossed his arms, shoving his hands into his armpits, and glowered.

“I never said it did, Seamus,” Harry bit back, “But if people didn’t get second chances to redeem themselves, a lot of people wouldn’t get another chance to make up for their mistakes. You wouldn’t have had the second chance to be my friend, would you? You were against me when the Ministry was making up lies and when you said you were sorry, I forgave you, didn’t I?”

“That’s different, Harry!” His voice was quieter; the anger has diminished as though he was realizing that Harry was right.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said just as softly. “Seamus, Malfoy isn’t as bad anymore. I mean, you’ve seen him. He’s been nice to people - not entirely civil - but he doesn’t insult them. He doesn’t hex anyone.”

Seamus opened his mouth as though he was going to argue more, but his jaw snapped shut. He sighed and rose from the bed. In two long strides, he was standing directly in front of Harry and smiling grimly. “He better treat you right, mate, otherwise I’ll give him something to cry about.”

Harry grinned widely and resisted the temptation of hugging Seamus. He wondered how Draco would react if he smelt Seamus’ cologne on him. He didn’t want to find out. He didn’t even slap him on the back as he usually would.

Hermione bustled into the room, a large book in her arms. She stopped short at the sight and smiled gingerly. “Everything okay?”

“Just peachy, although I can’t even give my friend a hug. I can’t even touch him. Pretty bonkers if you ask me.” Seamus answered with a smile. He nodded and walked back over to the bed

Hermione nodded solemnly, “Yes, but after Harry gives birth, the protection will ease, don’t worry.”

“That’s another eight months, Hermione,” Ginny pointed out. She seemed to be taking the news better than Seamus and Dean did. She was smiling at Harry, but her eyes seemed to dart from his face to his stomach. Harry wondered if she was going to have a squealing moment like Hermione. He didn’t quite understand some women and their behaviour towards pregnancy and children.

“Yes,” Hermione grinned, “and then there will be babies! Of course, one of them will be my godchild. I will teach him or her about reading and the best ways to study.” Her voice was filled with pride. It made Harry laugh.

“You’re going to scar the poor kid, that’s what you’ll do,” Ron teased, winking at Harry in the process. Harry laughed louder and shook his head.

“Mate, I’d watch your tongue if I was you.”

Hermione huffed and glared at Ron before handing Harry the book. “That’s the book I was given to read for you. Make sure you read it, Harry. There isn’t much to learn on the Incubi, they aren’t as complex as some magical creatures, but there is certainly information in there that you should read. There is information on how you will act in your pregnancy and what you’ll need, there is information on how Malfoy will react in your pregnancy and about how he’ll react after you give birth. There is also the Incubi’s history, which I found most interesting.” Harry sent her a look and she sighed, “No, you probably won’t be interested in it. Anyway, I’ve marked some chapters you should read, it’s about Malfoy’s instincts and about a mate’s duty. Read it, please?”

Harry nodded. “I will.”

***

When Harry finally received a letter from McGonagall, telling him where the room was located, Harry said his goodbyes to his best friends and made his way to his new living space. He had promised to see the Gryffindors at breakfast the next morning and even though Harry didn’t want to go, he knew he had no choice in the matter.

When he reached the room - which was on the second floor - and muttered the password to a very old lady in the portrait. He entered, only to find Malfoy already waiting. The blond was sitting on the couch, his legs outstretched and feet resting on the small coffee table in front of him. Both of his ankles and his arms were crossed and when he saw Harry, he smirked.

“About time you got here, Potter. Saying a teary farewell to your friends?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’ll never see them again, Malfoy. Merlin, I’m just moving sleeping areas, why would I cry about that?” He paused and raised an eyebrow mockingly, “Is that what you did?”

Malfoy snorted and rose from his seat just as Harry lowered his trunk to the ground. He strode over to Harry and without even asking for permission, Malfoy undid the clips to his trunk and was rummaging around in the clothes.

Harry gaped in shock. “What are you doing?” He reached out of grab Malfoy’s arm and tugged at it, causing both of them to fall on the ground on their arses.

“Potter!”

“Get out of my trunk, Malfoy!” Harry growled angrily, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m merely confirming my thoughts on your clothes. They are terrible, Potter, and so Muggle. It’s disgusting.”

“I didn’t ask for your acceptance in my clothing choice, Malfoy,” Harry retorted. He crawled over to his trunk and slammed the top of it closed, relatching the clips together again.

“You are my mate, Potter, and as such you will be considered a Malfoy. You can’t go around looking like you are a squib,” Malfoy huffed and stood. He shook his head in exasperation, “Mother will not accept this.”

“I don’t care what your mother would accept or not, Malfoy,” Harry cocked his head to glower at the other man, “Neither of you can tell me what to wear.”

Malfoy’s nose crinkled as he drew back in disgust, “Very well, we shall see. Don’t expect to put those clothes anywhere near mine. The wardrobe will be for my clothes only.”

Harry grunted, suddenly reminded of what a snobbish git Malfoy was. “Is there two rooms?”

“One,” Malfoy smirked, “Which means we get to share a queen sized bed, Potter.”

“Yippee,” Harry muttered sarcastically. He sighed and pulled out his wand and charmed the trunk to hover up the stairs and towards what Harry assumed was the bedroom. He opened the door and gasped in surprise. Unlike the green furnishings like he expected (He thought Malfoy would have changed the colours of it, just to piss him off), it was a mixture of red and silver.

A large four poster bed - with red coverings - rested against the wall in the middle of the room, a large silver wardrobe was to the right and two red armchairs with silver trimming was positioned to the left, with a small table between them. A chessboard was set up on the table as well and the pieces to it were made of glass.

“It’s well set up. McGonagall did alright.”

Harry jumped and spun on his heel. His gaze met the amused face of Malfoy, who stood with his shoulder against the door frame and his arms and ankles crossed.

“She did.” Harry turned away from Malfoy to once again look around the room. He couldn’t express in words at how…homely it felt. It wasn’t an exactly duplicate of Gryffindor’s dormitories, but it had a somewhat familiar aspect to it.

Harry jumped when he felt hands grip his arms, but he didn’t try and turn around.

“Potter,” The word was whispered in his ear, the hot breath tickling Harry’s neck and making his neck hair stand on edge.

“What?” Harry spoke just as quietly, unsure as to why they were even whispering. There was no one but them in the room. Although, there were a couple of portraits downstairs and there was no doubt in his mind that everything that was said would be reported back to McGonagall.

Malfoy was breathing deeply and Harry wasn’t sure whether he was doing it on purpose or not. It didn’t take him long to realize that he wasn’t, not when a very hard bulge pressed against his arse insistently.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you serious, Malfoy?”

Malfoy chuckled low in his throat. “I need sexual release, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but the only thing that escaped his mouth was a grunt when Malfoy’s cock thrust against his arse again. His own cock stirred in his pants, aware of the very masculine scent that assaulted his nostrils. Malfoy smelt good.

“And it seems you do too.”

The cockiness in his voice made Harry want to punch him in the face, however he was too busy pushing back against the rutting erection.

“Shall we move this to the bed?”

Harry knew he should have protested, he should have just told Malfoy that they could do it there, thank you very much, and that was that. However, he couldn’t, not when Malfoy’s very nice cock - not that he’d admit that to Malfoy - was pushing against him.

“We’re not shagging, Malfoy,” Harry grounded, reaching back to grab a hold onto Malfoy so he didn’t fall forward with the thrusts against his arse.

“Yeah, yeah, Potter.”

“I don’t like you, you know that?” Harry muttered once the rutting stopped and Malfoy grasped his upper arm, guiding him towards the large bed.

“Right,” Malfoy obviously wasn’t paying attention to him because he didn’t even give a small glance.

“You insult my clothes-”

“They are pretty fucking terrible clothes though, Potter.”

“Fuck off.” Harry glowered at Malfoy when the other man pushed him onto the bed. Harry rearranged himself so he was on all fours and facing towards the top of the mattress. He reached out to grip the frame as Malfoy positioned himself behind Harry’s arse and started to rut against him.

Harry thrust his arse back, meeting the rough movements of Draco’s hips with enthusiasm. His cock swelled harder, pressing against his pants so persistently that Harry couldn’t help but reach down and unzip his pants. He pulled out his erection, spat on his hand and then wrapped it around the girth, tugging on the hard flesh.

Malfoy must have seen what he did because he groaned, his arm circling Harry’s waist until it slipped under his shirt, resting on his flat stomach. His fingers caressed the skin there and his touch felt like jolts of lightning were entering his body. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and he grunted, pressing back against Malfoy.

Malfoy fumbled behind him and Harry wasn’t quite sure what he was doing until he felt a bare cock against his clothed arse. He growled in warning, but Malfoy snorted at him.

“It’s not like I’m going to give you a surprise shagging, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, “I’m just jerking off.”

Harry didn’t comment; he was too busy moving backwards again and again to feel the other man against him. He didn’t know where this sudden need came from, but he seemed to desire this as much as Malfoy did.

“Stop! Potter, stop!”

Harry grunted in annoyance, but stopped his movements. “If you think I’m going to bend your willy, Malfoy, put it back in your pants,” he snapped angrily.

Malfoy huffed. “I want to try something different.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder and glared at the blond man that seemed intent on making his life hell. “What?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like a girl, Potter. If you were a real man, you’d just let me shag you.”

Harry kicked backwards, his foot connected with Malfoy’s thigh and it earned him a pained groan.

“What the fuck, Potter? You moody bastard.”

“Just because I don’t want your ugly cock inside of me doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man, Malfoy.” Harry turned to sit on his arse, forgetting about the fact that his cock was hanging out of his pants and glared with more intensity. He moved to shove his erection back inside his zip, but Malfoy’s hand stopped him by grasping his wrist.

“Hate to break this to you, Potter, but you’ve had my ugly cock inside of you already. You were even gifted with my seed; hence you are pregnant with my children.”

Harry bent his leg back again; this time aiming for Malfoy’s other thigh.

Malfoy raised his hand. “Stop.” He glared at the offensive foot. “Just trust me, okay?”

“Malfoy, you don’t deserve anything,” Harry spat.

Malfoy sighed and muttered something. Harry didn’t quite catch it, but he was sure it was something along the lines of him being moodier than a woman on her monthly cycle.

As he opened his mouth to retort, Malfoy grabbed his tie, dragging his face closer.

“I want to do something for you, Potter.”

The words intrigued Harry. He frowned and snapped his mouth closed, watching Malfoy carefully. “What do you mean?”

Malfoy leaned in closer, his lips a mere inch from Harry’s before he spoke. “I want to rim you.”

“What?” Harry swallowed, unsure how he should react to that. He knew what rimming was, he wasn’t stupid. He had discussed it once with Justin, but the Hufflepuff had refused to even think about it. Harry accepted that maybe he would never do it to a man, much less have it done to him.

“I want to taste you.” Malfoy’s voice had grown husky, his eyes dark - but not in anger, in lust.

“I -” Harry licked his lips and glanced around the room nervously. “Malfoy, this is about getting you off, not me.”

“You heard Pomfrey; soon you’ll need this just as much as me. We should start now, yeah? And I’ll get off, I’ll wank myself off when I eat you out.”

Harry bit his lip, hard. He snorted to cover his embarrassment before curiosity won him over. There was no harm in trying things once and if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to do it again. He nodded.

“Take off your clothes.” Malfoy was already in the process of undressing himself. His shirt came off first - Harry’s eyes roamed over the scarred skin and grimaced - and then his trousers and boxers were kicked off, giving Harry a view once more of his naked body. He hadn’t seen Malfoy fully naked since the first time he woke up beside him.

Harry didn’t undress quickly. He stood from the bed, slipped his tie off from around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. His fingers faltered on his trousers. Even though his cock was still sticking out, he was still hesitative about being completely naked in front of Malfoy once more. It was his school enemy, after all. Yes, they had frotted against each other and even had sex once before - not that that counted because Harry couldn’t remember it - but it still felt intimidating, as though it was one big prank and he was going to be left there, naked and ashamed.

“Potter?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. His features didn’t betray any form of mocking, but that didn’t stop Harry from being suspicious. He shouldn’t have, considering that he was carrying Malfoy’s child and that was a step too far for pranks, but it felt like a defensive mechanism.

Harry shook it off and sighed. He inelegantly undid the button to his trousers and slid them down his pale legs. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side before re-joining Malfoy on the bed.

“How do I -”

Malfoy didn’t smirk; he merely nodded to Harry’s former spot on the mattress. “Just lay on the bed.”

Harry nodded and crawled over the hard mattress, his cock bobbing against his stomach as he moved. Resting on his stomach, he spread his legs and buried his face in the pillow, hoping that none of his embarrassment was seen by Malfoy. He was spread out before his former enemy and he didn’t think he could stand to see the look on Malfoy’s face.

A groan sounded behind him and Harry couldn’t resist sneaking a peek. Malfoy’s hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it speedily as he peered down at Harry’s arse. His hole was exposed, he knew that and apparently, Malfoy liked what he saw if the look of hunger on his face was anything to go by.

“Have you done this with Finch-Fletchley?” Malfoy glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

Harry snorted. “Have you done this with Zabini?” He retorted snidely.

Malfoy didn’t hesitate in answering. “No.” He smirked and reached out to pet Harry’s bare arse cheek. It made Harry jump forward in surprise. “I wouldn’t put my mouth anywhere near Blaise’s arse. Now stop worrying about Blaise, will you?”

“I will if you stop worrying about Justin.” He paused, “Why do you want to do it with me then?”

Malfoy smirked and shuffled on the bed until he sat on his knees behind Harry. It was hard to see him now, but he could just see the side of his face. “Because you’re my mate, because I am going to spend the rest of my life with you and I want to do everything with you.”

“Corny, Malfoy,” Harry chuckled.

“But it’s going to get me what I want, isn’t it?”

It was true and Harry couldn’t really deny it. Malfoy’s hands rested on Harry’s lower back and he shivered at the touch. One hand ran up and down his skin, feeling, while the other rested on his hip. Malfoy’s hand pulled at him, raising his hips so his arse was in the air, before the hand ran under him again and touched his belly. The touches were soft, teasing, and then suddenly his hand was wrapped around Harry’s cock, tugging mercifully at it.

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed, his hips jerking forward.

Malfoy laughed softly and let go of Harry’s cock just as quick as he grabbed it. Both of his hands grabbed Harry’s arse cheeks, squeezing them and slapping. The actions made Harry flush and burrow his head back into the pillow. Justin had never bothered to do anything like this and it felt…intimate. This made Malfoy’s actions ever stranger and embarrassing.

Harry jumped when he felt teeth sink into the soft flesh of his right arse cheek. His head flew to the side to look at Malfoy. He couldn’t see him, not with the angle his head was turned at, but he felt his mouth suck on the flesh in his mouth.

“Malfoy…” Harry groaned, “You’re kissing my arse, literally.”

Malfoy snorted, the breath escaping through his nose because his mouth was too busy with Harry’s arse. When he pulled back, Harry shivered as the cold air hit the wet and bitten skin.

“Technically, I was biting your arse. Sorry, Potter, I was feeling possessive over it; marking it and all that nonsense.” Malfoy had to audacity to wink before he was leaning back down to kiss the bitten skin softly. A tongue flicked out, lightly tracing the indents that he had left with his teeth.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but he was stopped by the hands that spread his arse, exposing his hole to the other man. He swallowed, unsure, but waited to see what Malfoy was going to do next. And then he jumped when the wet tongue flicked, very lightly, over his quivering hole.

“Mal-Malfoy?”

Malfoy grunted, but it didn’t sound like he was paying attention. The tongue flicked over the hole again, teasing the puckered flesh.

Harry’s hands fisted the sheets on the bed and he bit his lip hard. He wiggled his hips a little, but Malfoy grabbed them to stop him from moving. Having the tongue tease his hole was a weird feeling and while it didn’t make him uncomfortable, it was new to him.

“Hold still, Potter.”

Malfoy grunted and it didn’t take a genius to work out that he was wanking himself off while he flicked his tongue against Harry’s arsehole. It was a smart idea really and it gave Harry cause to slip his own hand beneath him, encircling his cock and tugging at the hard flesh.

The flicks of Malfoy’s tongue became laps and shivers of pleasure ran up Harry’s spine. He spread his legs further and his hand on his cock tugged faster. It was only when he felt the jab of the tongue in his hole that Harry jumped forward again and he was answered with angry noises from Malfoy.

Harry growled in return and gripped the sheets with his spare hand. He tried hard not to move, but his thighs to quiver in resistance.

The tongue pushed further in and Harry groaned into the pillow that his face was currently resting on. The feeling of pulling away was no longer tormenting, instead now he wanted to push back against Malfoy’s tongue.

“Malfoy!” Harry’s fisting of his cock grew faster and he felt the sensations of the rimming shoot straight to his balls, “Malfoy!” And he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His seed shot from erection, coating his stomach and the bed with thick spurts of semen.

Malfoy groaned behind him and his tongue was removed from Harry’s arse. Harry felt him move and before he could protest, the tip of Malfoy’s erection was gliding over his lower back, the base rubbing between the very top of his arse cheeks. And then he came, warm spurts of his own come splattering on Harry’s bare back.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Malfoy, who was holding himself up by the grip on Harry’s hips. The blond hair was a mess, strands of it sticking to his sweaty forehead, and his pale cheeks were streaked with a splash of pink. Harry couldn’t see his eyes because his head was bent, but his mouth was open, panting as he always did when he came. Harry didn’t think he could admit it out loud, but he had never seen Malfoy look so attractive than he did now. He looked relaxed and peaceful.

“Malfoy?”

Malfoy finally looked up, a smirk growing on his lips. “How was that?” He fell on his back on the bed beside Harry.

Harry turned so he, too, was lying on his back and stared up the ceiling. He chuckled, shifting his head to gaze at Malfoy.

Malfoy turned his head as well and he joined in on the quiet laughter.

“An experience,” Harry said truthfully.

“Would you do it again?” Malfoy’s hand reached out, but Harry didn’t pull away from it. Instead, he let the long fingers touch his flushed cheek.

“Yes,” Harry admitted. Something was telling him to move closer and he did so. He shifted until he was lying on his side, his chest flushed against Malfoy’s arm.

Malfoy must have felt the same thing, because he turned on his side as well and now their chests were touching, as were their softening cocks. Malfoy reached down and grasped Harry’s thigh, raising it so Harry’s leg was wrapped around his own thigh.

Taking it as a hint, Harry moved as close as he could get, enjoying the proximity.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked quietly.

“We are growing fond of each other.” Malfoy smirked and it didn’t irk Harry like it usually did.

“Oh.” Harry didn’t really feel like asking for an explanation. He was too tired to care. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Malfoy’s softly, before he smiled and rested his head on the pillow. “That was good.”

“You taste good,” Malfoy said with leer.

Harry flushed, but didn’t say anything else before he fell into a deep, content sleep. His last conscious sight was of Malfoy cleaning up the mess and falling asleep beside him.

→→→ Chapter Nine