HAPPY BIRTHDAY citrus_lime!!! Part 2.
Go back to part one!
^-^
“Potter. Harry. Two,” Draco announced abruptly, appearing behind him, where he was standing abstracted at the sink in the men’s lav and staring at his face again. Surely there had to be something about his face that attracted Malfoy other than his lips, right? Right?
“Draco!”
…Or maybe in his eyes, which he could feel lighting up whenever there was a difficult Malfoy reflected in them.
“Ready, Harry?” Malfoy grinned gloriously at Harry, daft as houses apparently. “Time for number two, alright?” He chuckled, rich and sweet, not waiting for Harry’s reply, taking hold straightway of Harry’s elbows and jerking him about, to face up to a determined set of lips, already in descent to Harry’s lip level. Harry gawped as he spun, right smack into Draco’s waiting arms. “Urrff-mphh!”
“Good-oh!” Draco murmured, approvingly. “Brilliant chap, you are. Let’s begin.”
“Urk! Nnnngh!”
And kissed his incoherent prey thoroughly.
Was the way he did things, Malfoy-to the nth. Passionately and with a great lot of taut-jawed conviction. So much so the dripping water from the faucet ran over the clog where Harry had accidently dropped his used paper towel and the tiled floor was soaked in mere moments.
Not that Harry noticed he’d flooded the loo; he’d other things to worry over than a stupid mess in the employee bathroom. His poor cock was doing a gleeful dance behind the scathingly tight bounds of his y-fronts-as per usual when these snogging events occurred-
but nasty, skinflint Draco Malfoy was offering it no satisfaction. Well, other than simply continuing to bestow the mother of all French kisses, all hands attached above the waistline and mostly just used for gripping..
Oh-but wait! There was one quick hard palm, finally, pressing hot...and all too briefly.
“Ohhh…yes…” Harry swayed, immensely thankful. Maybe…?
“Good-oh.” Draco chuckled again, the git. Finally, after pulling far enough back to calmly survey Harry’s flushed cheeks, dazed eyes and nearly knocked off spectacles. “Perfect, Potter. Thanks for that. Three’s coming, mind. Watch for me, will you?”
And bloody DisApparated again, the inscrutable bastard, even though it was against regulation within the Ministry to do so. The puzzling, infuriating, driving-Harry-barking git.
Harry was good for nothing for quite a full half-hour after his startling lavatory experience. The time bought him nothing by way of mental quietude nor any real progress against the rising sea of case files. On the contrary, he spent it fitfully rubbing at his flies beneath the cover of his desk and trying not to moan out his dissatisfaction too loudly, for fear of earning the stink eye from ‘Hot Knickers’ Brown, Ron’s back on again girlfriend.
She was a terrible gossip, but at least Ron was getting some, the sod. He couldn’t say the same for poor old Hermione, stuck as she was on ruddy Justin. Justin, who’d transferred to Games right ‘round the same time Harry did, following his lead, he supposed.
At twenty minutes to eleven he staggered off for a restorative pre-break tea, as was his wont. Stiffly, because walking was quite terribly painful.
He reflected glumly that he might actually hate Malfoy; if he weren’t so fond of his kamikaze snogging style, that was.
“Three…ah, and here’s to a very good morning, Harry,” Draco wished him cheerily, appearing in the canteen line like bloody Peeves. It was so sudden and so absurdly annoying to Harry in his wound-up state, he scowled blackly at Draco. Nearly fell on his arse, too, what with Draco springing full upon him like some bloody panther before he’d even gathered the breath to exclaim “Draco!”
“Fancy running into you here. Not. Now,” Draco drawled meaningfully at Harry’s instant flush, “Let’s start the day properly, shall we? Good morning, Harry. Now you say ‘good morning’ back to me, alright?”
Where’d all the people gone? Harry wondered, in the space of three seconds Malfoy allowed him to wonder anything. Bloody-mysteries-Merlin, but Malfoy was!
“Mpgh!” The snogging extravaganza had begun all over again, delicately, as Draco’s lips whispered softly down the straining cords of Harry’s neck. “Oi!”
“I repeat, now you say ‘good morning’, Harry,” Draco prompted. He bent his neck, his lips just brushing Harry’s. “Like this.”
“Erm-um. Mmm….”
“Exactly so,” Draco muttered in his burning ear. “Fast learner, aren’t you? I like that.”
“Oh-gods!”
Hot. Fit. Enticing, demanding, sexy as sin, was Draco, and apparently entirely uncaring of proper place and procedure for mouth-fucking a co-worker. Not that there was anyone left in the café to even see!
“Ummm! Mmmph!” Harry moaned happily-shrieked through his nose, rather-but Draco only went on snogging him with a will. This time ‘round, thankfully enough, all his hands-and there had to be more than merely two of them!--roamed Harry’s person avidly. Harry’s painfully engorged cock appreciated it a great whomping deal.
“Ah…ah! Draco!”
Too much so. He ejaculated. Very…stickily so, too.
“Good boy,” Draco petted him, smoothing his lean hands down Harry’s curving spine. “You’re so damned hot when you do that.”
“Nnnnnn….” he gasped, when at last released, and sagged back against the cashier’s abandoned countertop, his knee caps very wonky and his pants clinging to him like a second skin. “Nnnh. Er!” He recalled Draco’s request vaguely, swimming about his brainless skull as he sagged. “Um. Draco. G’morning!”
“And same to you, Harry. See you later?”
One last wicked hip grind from Draco left him pleasantly speechless, lips parted in the manner of a puzzled angelfish, and wondering why it was he Draco had decided to torture him so thoroughly.
If so, he was absolutely a lucky chap. Erm. Had Draco maybe… missed him, just a bit, the day before?
He’d certainly missed Draco. Too, too much.
“Almost time for real elevensies, so… soon again, Harry. Miss me in the meanwhile, alright?”
His gallant assailant bowed mockingly, patting his own unsatisfied bulge with a smarmy hand, winked charmingly at Harry and departing promptly but not without the final word.
“Cause it’s fore I’m calling, just as they say in your Muggly golf games, isn’t it? Four, rather, coming right up. But…be a little more prepared next time, Harry; I shan’t go so easy on you.”
“Wha-what?” Harry mouthed, intensely puzzled. “What are you on ab-‘go easy’?
“Just saying,” Draco smirked merrily. “You’ll get yours, Potter. Just the way you like it.”
“…Oh-gods!”
^0^
“Bloody hare’s foot,” Harry griped, regarding it where it lay upon the folders he’d likely never manage to actually open and deal with this day. “Bloody defective. What the fuck’s come over him? Too much caffeine?”
But Draco hadn’t had any, had he? Harry hadn’t noticed it, if he had. If he was in any way mentally altered it was all Harry-spit was doing it.
Harry had to grin at the fancy; really, he did. The walk back to Games had been much more pleasant, though. ‘Course, he’d not so much walked as floated.
“Bloody Draco,” he was still muttering as he poked about his department, aimlessly carrying his allotment of fresh files here and there in a vain attempt to look busy. “Blood-Draco!”
“Harry…” Draco popped up in Archives, just at ten fifty-nine precisely. The gaps between appearances were lessening. “Ah. There you are-nnnngh!”
Harry dropped his all files, his wand and his trousers in record time-this was no simple grope and tickle but a full out onslaught of the senses he wanted-and launched himself into Draco’s arms on the double. This time, at least, he was going to demand a few answers to his many questions…but only after he was able to concentrate. To that end, he rubbed himself frantically against Draco, who quickly grinned and just as frantically rubbed him back-all over.
They didn’t talk much, though. Other than ‘mmmh!’ and ‘aahhhh!’ and ‘Harder-fucking-faster, damn it!’
“Ahh-ahhh-ahhh---oooohhhhh!” he gasped at the end, completely limp and fully satisfied, when Draco let him loose at last and his knees went out from under him, all catty-corner wonky-like. “How d’you do that to me? Bugger all!”
“No. Bugger you.”
Draco smiled, sweetly, from his vantage point above Harry, where he stood calmly tucking his limp cock back in. There was come all over bloody everything; neither noticed it.
“Huh?”
“That’s next up, Harry, luv. We’re on number Five, isn’t it? Number Five on the Fifth Day-now, that’s fortunate if anything is.” Draco grinned down at Harry as he twitched his work robes into perfect order. “So. See you at lunch time, then. We’ll be going out, I should think. Some place…nice. Remember to bring your cloak; it’s chilly.”
“Er? Out? You’re saying out?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
And Harry could’ve sworn he heard Draco say one more thing before he stepped neatly and swiftly out of the deserted Archive Room, leaving Harry to fumble his papers and his pants into some sort of order. It sounded a bit like a cheer, actually:
“And here’s to my darling little Hare’s foot Harry, the lucky little git. Think I’ll keep him.”
The weirdest post-snog cheer ever, though.
“Whaat?!”
That last parting statement from Draco puzzled him intensely for the forty-seven minutes or so it took him to stare blankly at the non-contents of his empty rubbish bin-once he’d returned to his office-and wait about for his co-workers to collect him for luncheon, as usual. He’d got nothing accomplished, work-wise. Possibly, Harry mused, they’d skip out on him for luncheon, miffed. Not that that mattered much to Harry; he’d plenty to occupy his head.
‘Hare’s foot Harry’, huh? Whatever did that mean, exactly? What was Draco on about, with the countdown, anyway?
Harry wasn’t quite sure, but once an Auror Trainee, always an Auror Trainee, even if a failed one. The web of cobbled-together connections were certainly becoming more clear, though: hare’s foot-Gypsy’s-Auror showers-good luck…
Sod him, but maybe his pash for Draco was…mutual?
It was not beyond comprehension, that. Unexpected, maybe, but not…entirely.
“What-what-does that mean, Draco?” he absolutely had to ask, when Draco snagged his elbow from the regular floo line and drew him aside in a rush and flurry. They ducked the gazes of a chattering away, completely distracted lot of Games employees and paused behind an enormous potted plant. Silly ninnies, not one of them ever seemed to note Harry’s sudden disappearance.
The loos in the Atrium were located just off to the side of the entrance and within short order Harry found himself pressed into a wide box-like stall, wearing nil below the waist but his crumpled down socks and his scuffed dress shoes.
“Hare’s foot Harry? And wait-I thought we were lunching out, Draco?”
Draco grinned, in the midst of chewing off shirt buttons.
“Yes, soon. And it means you, Harry. Very lucky prat, you are. Shut it and kiss me, then. I’ll make you feel even luckier in a moment. Trust me.”
“Oh. Hoo-kay…if you say so.” Harry sighed. “Mhmmm-mah!”
Lips, he reflected, were marvelous organs. As were all of Draco’s parts.
‘Five’ concluded with a mutual blow job. Harry barely noted the restaurant Draco escorted to him after was extremely pricey and far too over-the-top for a simple lunch date. He spent all his time playing footsie and gazing goo-goo eyed at Draco over his neglected plate of Beef Wellington.
“Do we have to?” he whinged, when it was time to return. “I don’t wanna.”
Draco scowled, kissed Harry’s nose quickly, and growled something about ‘having to actually work, for once, fuck it’.
“But?” Harry was sad and therefore pouting. “I’ll see you later, right?”
Draco smiled at him, catching him up in one of those soul-fortifying hugs of his.
“Count on it, Harry. No worries.”
^-^
“Six, I do believe.”
The gap from lunch to afternoon break had been bleak and desolate. No Draco; many more files-still unopened. Many more disapproving stares garnered from the likes of Hannah, Padma, Justin and even that outrageous flirt Lavender Brown. Harry kept his chin tucked well down and his eyes trained on the meaningless labels. Who cared if the South Leamington Paltry Players League wanted to renew their seasonal license? Not he.
Not he.
It was with a leaping heart he heard the drawling tones of his favourite Auror.
“Come on. I know a place we’ve not been yet. Very private.”
Thankfully three o’clock had rolled around at last and he was free to shake the dust of Games and fly away, clinging to the arm of the man he was coming round to considering his lover.
Thankfully. His briefs would never be quite the same, so stretched out of shape were they.
^-^
Draco whistled merrily as he went about filing his reports that afternoon. Success, sweet as candy, had marked Day Five. If things went on like this, he’d have Harry in his flat and sprawling willing on his bed in no time. All to the good, as the Charms to ensure privacy were beginning to wane and dissipate. Seamus Finnegan had definitely suspected something was up, earlier.
Still. It was spiffing. Chuff-worthy. He felt giddy as fuckall about it.
The only thing that was a merest pinprick in his great balloon of goodwill was the fleeting stab of guilty.
To wit: Harry was known to be impervious to Imperio, true, and he was also acknowledged to be quite amazing at sniffing out love potions, hexes that redirected affections to unsuitable objects and the like. He was, in a concise word, wary.
Draco had rather engineered an unfair advantage, then, hadn’t he? The Charms were all simple; none were the slightest bit Dark or even vaguely Grey, right?...But. But. The fact remained: this was Potter under the influence he was snogging…er, shagging, now. Not Potter clear-eyed and bushy-tailed, as per usual.
This provided Draco a few strained moments of earnest self-reflection. A very few. He was Slytherin, after all. Harry should expect to be wooed in a mildly underhanded, advantage to the wooer manner, if he’d half a brain at all.
…And being Harry, he’d likely appreciate it. Some things never really changed, did they?
~_^
“I…don’t call this exactly-“
“So, it’s not what I’d choose, either, alright?” Draco demanded, kicking aside a pail and shrinking a collection of dirty mops and brooms with a quick flick of his ready wand. “But it is private, Harry, and it is new.”
“Still-“
“Nothing, Harry. Just shut-“
A hand on his bits worked nicely to silence Harry; Draco grinned even as he thrust his tongue through the moist ‘O’ of Harry’s pursed lips.
“Up!” he growled, a moment later, shimmying Harry’s trousers and pants down so the weight of his belt dragged them to the floor. “Up, for gods’ sake. I want in. Give me your damned knee!”
“‘Kay…” Harry nodded frantically. “On it, alright-on it!”
He was loose already and Draco noted with satisfaction his two fingers slipped in easily. And so they should; it had barely been two hours since they’d been there last. He’d a terrible time, deciding whether or not to scourgify this one and; the scent of previously aroused Potter lingering on his fingertips had been just too bloody brilliant.
“Slick,” he commanded, and the sparkling air gave him a squirt of it hastily. As soon as he had it, it went straight into Harry’s bum, the remainder brushed down his own cock with a fast swipe.
“Ready? This is Seven, mind you,” Draco demanded, breathless with anticipation. “Lucky Seven, yeah?” Harry squeaked and made sure to curve his spine enough so his arsehole was positioned properly. “And now comes the snogging bit that goes along with, alright? Ready?”
“Seven…” Harry echoed faintly, flushing a brilliant red in the dim light of the closet. “Got it. Very lucky, yeah. Er…Go, please-I’m dying without you, Draco.”
“Nhhn!” Draco grunted, poked blindly for a second before groping between Harry’s speasd thighs for guidance, and thrust in, full throttle. “Nhn-ungh!”
“Oh-god-oh-god-oh-Merlin!’ Harry squealed, his eyes rolling back as his head thumped the wall painfully. “Oh-thasss-so-goo-goo-brilliant!”
“Damn straight!”
A Muggle bomb could’ve exploded unnoted outside the broom closet for all the attention they paid their surroundings. It was all about ‘Faster!’ and ‘Oh, fuck me!’ and ‘Hurry!’ for the next several moments.
“…Hey?” Draco fiddled with his robes, sorting them, and didn’t look too closely when he opened his mouth after. It was dim in the closet; odds were in his favour Potter couldn’t see he was nerve-wracked. “Harry?”
“Um?” Harry was also straightening up, though nothing would disguise the puffed-up lips or the dazed air he’d about him. Draco grinned in quiet satisfaction.
Fourteen to go and he’d wager he’d gained the upper hand, definitely.
“Dinner?”
“…Yes. Yes,” Harry nodded decisively after a very brief pause. “Please.”
^-^
Two more snogs of Draco’s twenty-one were positively frittered away, mostly due to Draco being unable to settle into the last of his afternoon’s routine form filing. He made excuses to leave his desk and caught Harry first in the hall just outside of the floo-a short snog but a brilliant one-and the second time in the lav, staring fixedly over his shoulder at his own bum.
“Problem?” he enquired suavely, trapping Harry against the sink. “Harry?”
“Oh, no!” Harry blushed. “Just…just looking. That’s all. Looking.”
“Hmm...” Draco let it go, in favour of dropping to his knees before his beloved. He rubbed his hands hard across the muscles bunching beneath the trousers and looked up with one pale brow cocked in question. “Then you won’t mind if I suck you off, in that case?”
“Oh! Oh, no!” Harry spluttered, and Draco dove in, nipping, lipping and mouthing, hungry for scent-for skin beneath wool weave-for the taste of salt and musk that was harry. “’God fucking no!” Harry groaned and gave himself over.
At close of day it was no trick to separate Harry from the pack flowing inexorably toward the floos. He came quite willingly, ignoring the titters of the Parvati sisters and Lavender ‘Hot Knickers’ Brown.
Draco ignored all of them roundly and kept a hand safely on Harry’s elbow as he steered them aside, waiting for the first rush out to be over.
“I’ve reservations,” he murmured pridefully. “At Antonio’s. Drinks first?”
“Hmm-hmmh,” Harry nodded happily and they made their way out, on the neap end of tide of Magical Ministry workers. “Sounds brilliant. Pricey, but brilliant.”
“Bugger ‘pricey’. Cost, Harry,” Draco bent his head so he could stare deeply into Harry’s eyes, slowing their pace to a crawl to do so, “is no object when one is seeking to impress. Are you?”
“Oh…” Harry, a facile blusher, reddened, but he seemed calm enough for a man who’d been ravished repeatedly. “I am. Really, I am. Hermione’s just not going to quite believe it, that’s all.”
“Oh, really?” Draco was taken aback. “And why’s that, Harry?”
“Well…fancy places. You know,” Harry shrugged. “Not my gig, really.”
“Ah…” Draco paused as they exited the telephone booth at street level. “Harry, you know?”
“Yes?”
“That should change. In fact, we’ll change that immediately. Antonio’s is five-star, yeah?”
“Er…why?” Harry seemed puzzled. Draco dazzled him promptly with a million watt smile. “Why should it change, Draco?”
Draco stared at him, perplexed briefly.
“Because you’re worth it, Harry. And you need to know that. Remember it, because it’s true. Aright?”
Harry gasped, turning colours; snorted and stumbled a bit, going forward. Draco steadied him, a puzzled frown dawning on his high patrician brow.
“Harry? You believe me…don’t you?”
“It’s just…” Harry gulped audibly and looked every which way but at Draco, striding onwards besides him. “It’s rich, coming from you. I mean…”
“You mean?”
“It’s like a novel, this.” He waved a hand at them, obviously together, obviously on a date, twisting their way through the crowded streets of five o’clock London, and just a breadth away from holding hands or something equally soppy. “Us, together. What you’ve done. All so very…very…”
“Very?”
“Romantic. Like a dream-or a film. Or something. But…not my life, Draco. Never my life.”
“Oh, Harry,” In response, Draco stopped abruptly, halting them both in their tracks and earning a few smart remarks from passersby. He tugged his companion forcibly into a convenient alley opening, manhandling him up against a brick wall when he proved a bit reluctant. “Come on.”
“What?” Harry whined, shifty of feet and eye. “Why’re we stopping here, Draco?”
“Listen. Just listen.” Draco shoved at Harry’s one shoulder, mocking but not, his face a study in frowning concentration. “You’re an idiot, idiot.”
“Oi!”
“No, really, you are,” Draco was certain of it. He’d practically assaulted Harry; had had his arse and his mouth and his cock, and was absolutely planning on having them again-and more. And often. A regular thing, a…relationship. That’s it…what he wanted, really: a relationship. “It’s clear I’m enamoured of you, Harry. I don’t see the problem. Why’re you so surprised I’d take good care of you?”
“Well…”
“Has someone not-before?” Draco demanded, instantly on guard. He’d not heard any rumours round the Ministry but then he was in the field often and might not have. “Harry? Have you been…burnt?”
“No!” Harry stomped the heel of his shoe soundly, making a dull smack on the dirty pavers. “No, of course not. It’s only...”
“Only what?”
“I…this is all the hare’s foot, isn’t it? What you’re doing with me?” Harry blurted out in a rush. “I mean, it has to be. It all adds up, the Romany lady and the ‘Notice Me’ Charm and all the snogging-“
“Harry-“
“Shut it for a second, Draco,” Harry shook his head, scowling. “I’m just now putting this together, alright?”
“Harry!”
“But okay, then, maybe you’re interested. Merlin knows, I’m interested, but I just don’t see why you couldn’t have just asked me-“
“Oh, come on, Harry,” Draco snorted, relaxing and rocking back on his heels. “Really, are you serious? That’s not how it’s done, git.”
“What?” Harry gulped, gaped and opened his eyes very wide behind his wire framed spectacles, “you mean this is how you go about dating people, Draco Malfoy? But-but it’s so convoluted Why not just ask me-?”
“Harry, really,” Draco drawled. He stepped forward, crowing his lover up against the wall. “You’re the limit, I swear. Think; just consider. Be serious. Why would I ever allow you an out? D’you take me for a fool? Cause I’m not. Many things, maybe, but not a fool. No longer-‘least not where you’re concerned!”
“Oh!”
There was a small silence. Draco bent forward and nibbled his way up Harry’s jaw to pass the time. He knew Harry was sometimes not all there, not when it came to the intricacies of interaction with people, but still… he could keep himself happily busy whilst he waited.
“…Oooohh…I get it now,” Harry murmured at last, relaxing finally into Draco’s trapping arms. “Tricky, Malfoy. Very tricky, that. Slytherin.”
“Yep,” Draco replied happily. “Middle name, Harry--after Black, that is. And it bloody well worked, didn’t it?”
“Uh…”
“Grrr!” A few fast furious kisses were tossed about like confetti. “Harry?”
“Yesss! Yes, alright-it did, you git! Stop chewing my neck to bits, already!”
Snogs numbers Ten and Eleven were spent kissing Harry back into the preferred mostly incoherent state, mainly because Draco couldn’t stand to air out his inner thoughts concerning long-term pashes and such. And Harry would ask, being gormless and just like that.
…But also because Harry was looking rather delightful, all debauched and forced up against a dirty brick wall in a Muggle alley. It was very film noir and Draco really loved the genre, so…
Snog Thirteen was nearly spent the same way. But-
“Hmmm…hungry,” Harry detached himself at last, and edged a hand between them to rub at his trim belly, which obligingly rumbled. “Fucking famished, really. You’ll have to feed me, Draco, or there’ll be no pudding, after. I’m a little light-head-“
“Well!” Draco huffed, turning them both abruptly a quarter-spin into Apparate. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place, moron?”
~_^
“I didn’t know Antonio’s did carry away,” Harry remarked, his face full of wonder at the various cartons, fine china and so forth scattered across Draco’s flat’s dining room table. “It’s really delicious, though. Even cold, like this. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Draco smiled, casting a discreet warming charm on Harry’s chocolate lava cake. This he wanted to see-Harry lapping up molten chocolate, doing very delicious things to a spoon. Would be something to dream of, and maybe also wank to, on the morrow-not that he intended to wank, precisely. Not alone, at least. “Want more wine, Harry? There’s plenty.”
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“It’s decent, though. The vintage.”
“Umm, no,” Harry shook his head, his eyelids lowered. “None for me, thanks.” He continued to not look at Draco; it was difficult enough as it was, all the horrible uncertainty as to the man’s intentions. “I’m…I’m actually a little sleepy, Draco. Should go. Wouldn’t want to outstay my wel-”
“Don’t be foolish, Harry,” Draco swarmed round the table in a flash, his long body crowding up against Harry’s person as he dropped to his elegant knees. Harry was fixed with an eloquent stare, one he couldn’t avoid even if Voldemort himself had appeared to threaten him. “You’re going nowhere at all but my bed tonight and you know it. Don’t be coy, now.”
“I-really?” Harry was actually shocked, after all that had gone before. Draco had to shake his head over it; Gryffindors! Really, they were the utter limit! “You mean it, Draco? I can stay?”
“More like…” Draco purred, hands busy sweeping the serviette off Harry’s naked thighs, “I’ll use a bloody Sticking Charm to keep you here if I must. Honestly, Harry-did you really think I’d want you to go?”
“Um…maybe?”
“Harry.”
“…What?”
“I’ve spent five fucking days, on top of one whole solid year, plus any number before that-look, it makes me cringe to even consider, alright? Piling up, all this time; chances wasted, Harry-and see? Now I’ve got you, right where I want you-”
“Yes?”
“Was trying to work up a decent way to fix your interest, dolt,” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes at Harry fondly. “And not in a matey way, either, alright? We’re never going to be friends, Harry-face it.”
“No?” Harry pouted, looking abruptly disappointed. “But…”
“Nothing,” Draco interjected firmly. “And I don’t want to, either. I’m your lover, Harry. Lover,” he enunciated, teeth snapping the word neatly. “That’s it; full stop. New word for you, I know, but you can cope, I think. Get used to it.”
“Ah? Erm-ulp!”
Harry didn’t reply one way or the other. No chance to, as Draco had dipped his head and started again with the snog fest. Harry’s mouth was too occupied with that to waste time with mere talking.
^~^
Mornings after were not something Harry participated in, normally.
“Huh?” Thus, he sat straight up, clutching the sheet to his waist, patently astounded. “What the?”
“Harry…” Draco-because it was really Draco and not some dream of him, no matter how hard, hot, wet or realistic-hooked a bare arm round Harry’s waist and tugged him down again. “Harry, it’s the weekend. Saturday. Go back to sleep-I’m knackered. You’ve worn me out, you beastly man.”
Harry twisted about, gazing at his bedmate with a species of sleepy wonder.
“I…uh, what? Really, it is?”
“Of course it is. Oh, you are so-!”
But Harry never found out what he was, precisely. A whole new day had dawned and the hare’s foot was apparently still very actively working. Thirty-three snogs awaited him, along with added extras.
“Umm…m’okay….” Harry allowed, after enjoying the first one to the fullest and allowing his kneecaps to smash into his earlobes with nary a whimper when Draco pushed him hard into the mattress. “Alright, then.”
Grey eyes were triumphant; Harry didn’t mind it all. Fancy!
“That’s what I thought you’d say, Harry,” Draco grinned down at him delightedly, all brilliant smiles. “That’s precisely what I thought you’d say.”
~_~
“Hermione.”
“Mm?”
“Got something for you. It’s a present.”
“Yes?”
They were at the usual local, meeting at the usual time after work. Hermione was in DOM somewhere, so she never said much about her day, but she’d sure changed her ways concerning after-work drinking habits. Chocolate martinis were her current favourites. She could make them disappear like no one’s business.
“What is it, Harry?”
“It’s. Well, it’s for being you…and for not asking me stupid questions, alright? Take it-it’s, erm….it’s useful. You’ll, erm…you’ll like the effects, I’m sure.”
Harry smiled across the table at her as he trundled the small nicely wrapped packet to her side; it was nice to still have a mate to hang about with. Ron was pretty damn boring anymore, what with ‘Hot Knickers’ to go home to.
“What, really, Harry?” Hermione laughed lightly, as she unwrapped it, touching a hesitant finger to the red-dyed hare’s foot that appeared. O a gold chain, of course; Draco had said it was most fitting. “Come on, why give one of these to me? That’s nothing but silly old Muggle superstition, the luck thing. You can’t be serious, Harry. They aren’t any luckier than an-an I don’t know what!”
“Well…I am.” Harry set his lips mutinously, looking obstinate. “And it is, Hermione You’ll see. I bet you’d like it if, say, Justin snogged you. That’d be lucky, wouldn’t it?”
“Whaaat?!” Harry!”
Hermione sloshed her choco-tini as she jerked upright in her seat, flustered. Her interest in Justin wasn’t new but it was certainly a sore spot. Justin had never so much as noticed Hermione had her eyes on him, for one. For another, rumour was he was banging ‘Hot Knickers’, too.
Harry winced, sincerely hoping his mate hadn’t heard that one.
….Well, either of his mates.
“Harry James Potter! What exactly have you done to this stupid Muggle toy? Tell me right now, you little sod, or I’ll he-”
“Oi! Calm down, Hermione!” Harry flapped his hands uselessly, rather as one would at a raging bull, recently red-flagged. “Calm the feck down, alright? You don’t have to wave that thing at me! For the love of the Founders and Dumbledore’s wrinkled old arse, Hermione, I’m only trying to help you.”
“…Yes, do, Granger. No need for upset.”
Malfoy slid smoothly into the seat next to Harry’s, a tray with refills wafting along behind him.
“Potter here is just trying to do you a favour. Be nice to him.”
“Malfoy!” Hermione snorted, leaning forward with a dangerous look on her pretty face. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?” she demanded, eyeing the intruder narrowly. “Who invited you to this party?”
“Well..” Harry mumbled, red-cheeked, “I sort of did…actually. And, er, I meant to tell you-um?”
Hermione didn’t seem to hear him, busy with all her lip-curling and eye-flashing at a coolly collected Draco Malfoy. “I didn’t know you and Harry were friends?” She remarked this as if the concept were so totally foreign as to be impossible. She sneered, lifting her chin, and Harry gave her a glance of admiration. Apparently his wicked smart friend had learnt other things at Hogwarts besides the stuff in books-she was a sweet hand at sneering.
“Now, wait a moment, Hermione--!” Harry began, determined to set the record straight. All of it, which was likely tobe complicated. But, firstly-foremostly-that Draco was a problem. As he wasn’t. To wit: “It’s not like that!”
“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione brushed him off. “I’m asking Malfoy what in Merlin’s name he thinks he’s doing here, barging in on a private conversation-between friends.”
“But that’s just it, Hermione!” Harry shifted his seat closer to the newcomer. “He’s more than tha-“
“Friends?” Draco repeated the word as if it were so trite it wasn’t worth considering. “You think we’re friends, Granger? Mates, even? Me and Harry here?”
“Well?” Hermione’s lips thinned. “Why else would be here, butting in, Malfoy? What’s your excuse?”
“But we’re not, Granger. We’re lovers,” Draco smirked sweetly, toasting her ready scowl with his pint. “Harry and I. There’s a considerable difference, you know? And it’s not some dumb Muggle trick, either-the Hare’s foot Charm. Besides, it’s already been set for you.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione repeated, falling back. She took a quick slurp of her drink, hesitated and then downed it entirely. Harry watched her, anxiously.
“I was only trying to help, Hermione-“ he started, but Draco nudged him with a sharp elbow and he shut up, finally.
“Let me handle this, Harry. Clearly your Granger’s not getting it.”
“Oi!” Hermione exclaimed, eyes snapping. “What the!? Malfoy!”
“Ahem.” Draco cleared his throat, settling into his seat and assuming an expression of politic blandness. “It goes like this, alright? Granger, firstly, this is for your benefit, the Charm. Harry and I, we’ve already prepared it, alright? And tested it successfully, which Im sure you’ve noticed already. So, yoy, Granger, only have to incant the ‘Notice Me’ spell and your little Finch-Fletchley boy-toy will be falling all over himself to abandon that airhead he’s got and get at you, instead. As in, your knickers, not that Hot Pants Brown bint’s. Clear?”
Harry nodded approvingly. It was clear as day to him, at least.
“Not clear! Harry!” Hermione was appalled-and possibly also humiliated-as she turned a hot-cheeked face to him, her sherry-brown gaze wide and furious. “You told Malfoy about that? About-about me and Justin? How dare you?!”
“Erm?” Harry blushed, shrinking back in his chair. “Whoops? I, um, kind of couldn’t help it, Hermione? I mean, he asked about my mates, y’see, and that’s you and Ron-and Ron’s alright. He’s got Hot Knickers, but you-you, well. You, not so much.“
“Much what, Harry! What. About. Me?” Hermione hissed. Her wand danced a mean little circle, pointed straight at Harry’s bits. “What is it you’ve said to him, exactly? I can’t believe you actually opened up your thoughtless little gob and told Malfoy that I fancied Justin! So help me Merlin, I’m going to murder you!”
“Whoa, Granger!” Draco slotted a warm band of an arm around Harry’s shoulders, leaning in familiarly. “Whoa, now. Let’s just settle down, shall we? Take a powder, do. Really, it’s nothing bad, the Hare’s Foot. No harm, no foul. I was just interested, is all. It’s what lovers do-taking an interest. Caring and what’s it. And if you can’t trust me, Granger, then trust him. He’s your old mate, even if I’m not.”
“Hah!” Hermione was speechless with fury. Harry edged a bit closer to Draco, feeling very small. His friend hated being shown up to be vulnerable; she’d hex him in a minute if she thought Harry’s new lover would use her crush against her somehow. “Hah! Hah! Hah!”
She seemed to feel as if this were the last word on the subject, sitting back with a huff and a nasty twirl to her wand end.
“Um?” Harry started, tentatively. “Herm-“
But Draco was grinning at her, and in a nice way. A wave of his wand had a whole other pitcher of choco-tinis appearing on the tabletop.
“Harry’s not about to deliberately hurt you, Granger-now, is he? On the contrary, he wants you happy, the silly sod. Because he is, evidently, thanks very much to yours truly. It seems to be a Gryffindor thing, this reaction. You should be able to relate. Or at least just go with it.”
“Pardon me!?”
“Draco!” Harry wriggled in his seat uncomfortably; Hermione might explode momentarily, choco-tinis or no choco-tinis. Right in the midst of a whole lot of Ministry workers, sucking up their post-five pints, too. And then probably hex both him and Draco to bits, on top of it. “Shush already-you’re not helping!’
“Harry!” He was skewered with a gimlet stare as Hermione grimly topped up her glass. “Harry, what exactly is going on here? You’re in cahoots with Malfoy now? I don’t believe it.”
“Oh, bloody fuck, Potter,” Draco shrugged, rolling his eyes in irritation. “You tell her, then. She won’t listen to reason, apparently. Not unless it’s wriiten down somewhere, at least. I give up.”
He rolled his eyes expressively. Harry sighed.
Damn, but it was time for the hero to step in again. Lucky him.
“Harry? Harry!”
“Um.’ Harry gulped, and took refuge in his own fresh pint. “Well, it’s like Draco said. It’s a device for luck, really, this thing. And…um. Snogging.”
“Really!” Hermione snorted. “I hardly think, Harry-!“
“It may be simple enough, but it works like a charm, and yes, really, Hermione,” Harry shrugged slightly and blushed like a damned fool, his gaze drifting magnetically to the man smirking sweetly at his side. “It’s great, the results...I mean, I was so happy to have it…be given it, rather, and well. It’s your turn, okay? I want you to feel…I want you to be…”
“What, Harry? You want me to what?”
“It’s just. Just maybe that…you’ll…well, maybe you’ll get lucky, too, alright? It’ll work for you. I mean, I think Justin rather fancies you too, even if he’s not ever said anything. In fact, I’d bet on it-he does and you will, Hermione. Be happy too, I mean. Just…just give this to him. Justin, that is. After you spell it to you. For the snogging bit. And then, er…wait about an hour. You’ll see.”
“Excuse me? What’s this about-the snogging bit? Talk to me, Harry-talk faster!”
Both men were speared by suspicious chocolate brown eyes, deep as her martini in colour but not nearly as sweet.
“Ah!” Draco chuckled. “Now we get to it. Light, it dawns.”
“What kind of magic is this, exactly?” Hermione hunkered over her drink, looking ready to grill the stuffing out of them both. “Harry? Malfoy? Because I’ve certainly never heard of anything like-“
“Hare’s foot Charm, Granger,” Draco replied succinctly after a beat. “Induces a certain degree of willingness-Light Magic only, mind you-in one’s object of amatory interest. Do the Arithmancy, will you?”
“One plus one. Hermione,” Harry added, not helpfully. “Plus Charm. Um…equals snogging, yeah?”
“And snogging,” Draco grinned, Kneazle knee-deep in the kippers of Life smug and crowding very close up to Harry, indeed, “equals happy, Granger. Get it now?”
“Huh,” snorted the Smartest Witch of the Century, tapping her wand on the table three times before sliding it away up her sleeve. “Hare’s foot, is it? I always wondered what was up with that, Harry. I knew something odd was going on with you.”
“Wh-what?” Harry went beet-red. “Really?”
“Really.” Hermione filled up her glass again and picked up the Charm, examining it with fresh eyes-professional eyes. Hermione did something in DOM for a living; no doubt this interested in more ways than one. “Now, you two gits-tell me absolutely everything that’s happened. Every juicy, moist detail-why it is I should believe you this would work. And remember, Harry.”
“Y-Yeah, Hermione?”
“This had better be convincing or I really am hexing you. To the moon, Harry-straight to the ruddy damned moon!”
Fin
^-^
“Potter. Harry. Two,” Draco announced abruptly, appearing behind him, where he was standing abstracted at the sink in the men’s lav and staring at his face again. Surely there had to be something about his face that attracted Malfoy other than his lips, right? Right?
“Draco!”
…Or maybe in his eyes, which he could feel lighting up whenever there was a difficult Malfoy reflected in them.
“Ready, Harry?” Malfoy grinned gloriously at Harry, daft as houses apparently. “Time for number two, alright?” He chuckled, rich and sweet, not waiting for Harry’s reply, taking hold straightway of Harry’s elbows and jerking him about, to face up to a determined set of lips, already in descent to Harry’s lip level. Harry gawped as he spun, right smack into Draco’s waiting arms. “Urrff-mphh!”
“Good-oh!” Draco murmured, approvingly. “Brilliant chap, you are. Let’s begin.”
“Urk! Nnnngh!”
And kissed his incoherent prey thoroughly.
Was the way he did things, Malfoy-to the nth. Passionately and with a great lot of taut-jawed conviction. So much so the dripping water from the faucet ran over the clog where Harry had accidently dropped his used paper towel and the tiled floor was soaked in mere moments.
Not that Harry noticed he’d flooded the loo; he’d other things to worry over than a stupid mess in the employee bathroom. His poor cock was doing a gleeful dance behind the scathingly tight bounds of his y-fronts-as per usual when these snogging events occurred-
but nasty, skinflint Draco Malfoy was offering it no satisfaction. Well, other than simply continuing to bestow the mother of all French kisses, all hands attached above the waistline and mostly just used for gripping..
Oh-but wait! There was one quick hard palm, finally, pressing hot...and all too briefly.
“Ohhh…yes…” Harry swayed, immensely thankful. Maybe…?
“Good-oh.” Draco chuckled again, the git. Finally, after pulling far enough back to calmly survey Harry’s flushed cheeks, dazed eyes and nearly knocked off spectacles. “Perfect, Potter. Thanks for that. Three’s coming, mind. Watch for me, will you?”
And bloody DisApparated again, the inscrutable bastard, even though it was against regulation within the Ministry to do so. The puzzling, infuriating, driving-Harry-barking git.
Harry was good for nothing for quite a full half-hour after his startling lavatory experience. The time bought him nothing by way of mental quietude nor any real progress against the rising sea of case files. On the contrary, he spent it fitfully rubbing at his flies beneath the cover of his desk and trying not to moan out his dissatisfaction too loudly, for fear of earning the stink eye from ‘Hot Knickers’ Brown, Ron’s back on again girlfriend.
She was a terrible gossip, but at least Ron was getting some, the sod. He couldn’t say the same for poor old Hermione, stuck as she was on ruddy Justin. Justin, who’d transferred to Games right ‘round the same time Harry did, following his lead, he supposed.
At twenty minutes to eleven he staggered off for a restorative pre-break tea, as was his wont. Stiffly, because walking was quite terribly painful.
He reflected glumly that he might actually hate Malfoy; if he weren’t so fond of his kamikaze snogging style, that was.
“Three…ah, and here’s to a very good morning, Harry,” Draco wished him cheerily, appearing in the canteen line like bloody Peeves. It was so sudden and so absurdly annoying to Harry in his wound-up state, he scowled blackly at Draco. Nearly fell on his arse, too, what with Draco springing full upon him like some bloody panther before he’d even gathered the breath to exclaim “Draco!”
“Fancy running into you here. Not. Now,” Draco drawled meaningfully at Harry’s instant flush, “Let’s start the day properly, shall we? Good morning, Harry. Now you say ‘good morning’ back to me, alright?”
Where’d all the people gone? Harry wondered, in the space of three seconds Malfoy allowed him to wonder anything. Bloody-mysteries-Merlin, but Malfoy was!
“Mpgh!” The snogging extravaganza had begun all over again, delicately, as Draco’s lips whispered softly down the straining cords of Harry’s neck. “Oi!”
“I repeat, now you say ‘good morning’, Harry,” Draco prompted. He bent his neck, his lips just brushing Harry’s. “Like this.”
“Erm-um. Mmm….”
“Exactly so,” Draco muttered in his burning ear. “Fast learner, aren’t you? I like that.”
“Oh-gods!”
Hot. Fit. Enticing, demanding, sexy as sin, was Draco, and apparently entirely uncaring of proper place and procedure for mouth-fucking a co-worker. Not that there was anyone left in the café to even see!
“Ummm! Mmmph!” Harry moaned happily-shrieked through his nose, rather-but Draco only went on snogging him with a will. This time ‘round, thankfully enough, all his hands-and there had to be more than merely two of them!--roamed Harry’s person avidly. Harry’s painfully engorged cock appreciated it a great whomping deal.
“Ah…ah! Draco!”
Too much so. He ejaculated. Very…stickily so, too.
“Good boy,” Draco petted him, smoothing his lean hands down Harry’s curving spine. “You’re so damned hot when you do that.”
“Nnnnnn….” he gasped, when at last released, and sagged back against the cashier’s abandoned countertop, his knee caps very wonky and his pants clinging to him like a second skin. “Nnnh. Er!” He recalled Draco’s request vaguely, swimming about his brainless skull as he sagged. “Um. Draco. G’morning!”
“And same to you, Harry. See you later?”
One last wicked hip grind from Draco left him pleasantly speechless, lips parted in the manner of a puzzled angelfish, and wondering why it was he Draco had decided to torture him so thoroughly.
If so, he was absolutely a lucky chap. Erm. Had Draco maybe… missed him, just a bit, the day before?
He’d certainly missed Draco. Too, too much.
“Almost time for real elevensies, so… soon again, Harry. Miss me in the meanwhile, alright?”
His gallant assailant bowed mockingly, patting his own unsatisfied bulge with a smarmy hand, winked charmingly at Harry and departing promptly but not without the final word.
“Cause it’s fore I’m calling, just as they say in your Muggly golf games, isn’t it? Four, rather, coming right up. But…be a little more prepared next time, Harry; I shan’t go so easy on you.”
“Wha-what?” Harry mouthed, intensely puzzled. “What are you on ab-‘go easy’?
“Just saying,” Draco smirked merrily. “You’ll get yours, Potter. Just the way you like it.”
“…Oh-gods!”
^0^
“Bloody hare’s foot,” Harry griped, regarding it where it lay upon the folders he’d likely never manage to actually open and deal with this day. “Bloody defective. What the fuck’s come over him? Too much caffeine?”
But Draco hadn’t had any, had he? Harry hadn’t noticed it, if he had. If he was in any way mentally altered it was all Harry-spit was doing it.
Harry had to grin at the fancy; really, he did. The walk back to Games had been much more pleasant, though. ‘Course, he’d not so much walked as floated.
“Bloody Draco,” he was still muttering as he poked about his department, aimlessly carrying his allotment of fresh files here and there in a vain attempt to look busy. “Blood-Draco!”
“Harry…” Draco popped up in Archives, just at ten fifty-nine precisely. The gaps between appearances were lessening. “Ah. There you are-nnnngh!”
Harry dropped his all files, his wand and his trousers in record time-this was no simple grope and tickle but a full out onslaught of the senses he wanted-and launched himself into Draco’s arms on the double. This time, at least, he was going to demand a few answers to his many questions…but only after he was able to concentrate. To that end, he rubbed himself frantically against Draco, who quickly grinned and just as frantically rubbed him back-all over.
They didn’t talk much, though. Other than ‘mmmh!’ and ‘aahhhh!’ and ‘Harder-fucking-faster, damn it!’
“Ahh-ahhh-ahhh---oooohhhhh!” he gasped at the end, completely limp and fully satisfied, when Draco let him loose at last and his knees went out from under him, all catty-corner wonky-like. “How d’you do that to me? Bugger all!”
“No. Bugger you.”
Draco smiled, sweetly, from his vantage point above Harry, where he stood calmly tucking his limp cock back in. There was come all over bloody everything; neither noticed it.
“Huh?”
“That’s next up, Harry, luv. We’re on number Five, isn’t it? Number Five on the Fifth Day-now, that’s fortunate if anything is.” Draco grinned down at Harry as he twitched his work robes into perfect order. “So. See you at lunch time, then. We’ll be going out, I should think. Some place…nice. Remember to bring your cloak; it’s chilly.”
“Er? Out? You’re saying out?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
And Harry could’ve sworn he heard Draco say one more thing before he stepped neatly and swiftly out of the deserted Archive Room, leaving Harry to fumble his papers and his pants into some sort of order. It sounded a bit like a cheer, actually:
“And here’s to my darling little Hare’s foot Harry, the lucky little git. Think I’ll keep him.”
The weirdest post-snog cheer ever, though.
“Whaat?!”
That last parting statement from Draco puzzled him intensely for the forty-seven minutes or so it took him to stare blankly at the non-contents of his empty rubbish bin-once he’d returned to his office-and wait about for his co-workers to collect him for luncheon, as usual. He’d got nothing accomplished, work-wise. Possibly, Harry mused, they’d skip out on him for luncheon, miffed. Not that that mattered much to Harry; he’d plenty to occupy his head.
‘Hare’s foot Harry’, huh? Whatever did that mean, exactly? What was Draco on about, with the countdown, anyway?
Harry wasn’t quite sure, but once an Auror Trainee, always an Auror Trainee, even if a failed one. The web of cobbled-together connections were certainly becoming more clear, though: hare’s foot-Gypsy’s-Auror showers-good luck…
Sod him, but maybe his pash for Draco was…mutual?
It was not beyond comprehension, that. Unexpected, maybe, but not…entirely.
“What-what-does that mean, Draco?” he absolutely had to ask, when Draco snagged his elbow from the regular floo line and drew him aside in a rush and flurry. They ducked the gazes of a chattering away, completely distracted lot of Games employees and paused behind an enormous potted plant. Silly ninnies, not one of them ever seemed to note Harry’s sudden disappearance.
The loos in the Atrium were located just off to the side of the entrance and within short order Harry found himself pressed into a wide box-like stall, wearing nil below the waist but his crumpled down socks and his scuffed dress shoes.
“Hare’s foot Harry? And wait-I thought we were lunching out, Draco?”
Draco grinned, in the midst of chewing off shirt buttons.
“Yes, soon. And it means you, Harry. Very lucky prat, you are. Shut it and kiss me, then. I’ll make you feel even luckier in a moment. Trust me.”
“Oh. Hoo-kay…if you say so.” Harry sighed. “Mhmmm-mah!”
Lips, he reflected, were marvelous organs. As were all of Draco’s parts.
‘Five’ concluded with a mutual blow job. Harry barely noted the restaurant Draco escorted to him after was extremely pricey and far too over-the-top for a simple lunch date. He spent all his time playing footsie and gazing goo-goo eyed at Draco over his neglected plate of Beef Wellington.
“Do we have to?” he whinged, when it was time to return. “I don’t wanna.”
Draco scowled, kissed Harry’s nose quickly, and growled something about ‘having to actually work, for once, fuck it’.
“But?” Harry was sad and therefore pouting. “I’ll see you later, right?”
Draco smiled at him, catching him up in one of those soul-fortifying hugs of his.
“Count on it, Harry. No worries.”
^-^
“Six, I do believe.”
The gap from lunch to afternoon break had been bleak and desolate. No Draco; many more files-still unopened. Many more disapproving stares garnered from the likes of Hannah, Padma, Justin and even that outrageous flirt Lavender Brown. Harry kept his chin tucked well down and his eyes trained on the meaningless labels. Who cared if the South Leamington Paltry Players League wanted to renew their seasonal license? Not he.
Not he.
It was with a leaping heart he heard the drawling tones of his favourite Auror.
“Come on. I know a place we’ve not been yet. Very private.”
Thankfully three o’clock had rolled around at last and he was free to shake the dust of Games and fly away, clinging to the arm of the man he was coming round to considering his lover.
Thankfully. His briefs would never be quite the same, so stretched out of shape were they.
^-^
Draco whistled merrily as he went about filing his reports that afternoon. Success, sweet as candy, had marked Day Five. If things went on like this, he’d have Harry in his flat and sprawling willing on his bed in no time. All to the good, as the Charms to ensure privacy were beginning to wane and dissipate. Seamus Finnegan had definitely suspected something was up, earlier.
Still. It was spiffing. Chuff-worthy. He felt giddy as fuckall about it.
The only thing that was a merest pinprick in his great balloon of goodwill was the fleeting stab of guilty.
To wit: Harry was known to be impervious to Imperio, true, and he was also acknowledged to be quite amazing at sniffing out love potions, hexes that redirected affections to unsuitable objects and the like. He was, in a concise word, wary.
Draco had rather engineered an unfair advantage, then, hadn’t he? The Charms were all simple; none were the slightest bit Dark or even vaguely Grey, right?...But. But. The fact remained: this was Potter under the influence he was snogging…er, shagging, now. Not Potter clear-eyed and bushy-tailed, as per usual.
This provided Draco a few strained moments of earnest self-reflection. A very few. He was Slytherin, after all. Harry should expect to be wooed in a mildly underhanded, advantage to the wooer manner, if he’d half a brain at all.
…And being Harry, he’d likely appreciate it. Some things never really changed, did they?
~_^
“I…don’t call this exactly-“
“So, it’s not what I’d choose, either, alright?” Draco demanded, kicking aside a pail and shrinking a collection of dirty mops and brooms with a quick flick of his ready wand. “But it is private, Harry, and it is new.”
“Still-“
“Nothing, Harry. Just shut-“
A hand on his bits worked nicely to silence Harry; Draco grinned even as he thrust his tongue through the moist ‘O’ of Harry’s pursed lips.
“Up!” he growled, a moment later, shimmying Harry’s trousers and pants down so the weight of his belt dragged them to the floor. “Up, for gods’ sake. I want in. Give me your damned knee!”
“‘Kay…” Harry nodded frantically. “On it, alright-on it!”
He was loose already and Draco noted with satisfaction his two fingers slipped in easily. And so they should; it had barely been two hours since they’d been there last. He’d a terrible time, deciding whether or not to scourgify this one and; the scent of previously aroused Potter lingering on his fingertips had been just too bloody brilliant.
“Slick,” he commanded, and the sparkling air gave him a squirt of it hastily. As soon as he had it, it went straight into Harry’s bum, the remainder brushed down his own cock with a fast swipe.
“Ready? This is Seven, mind you,” Draco demanded, breathless with anticipation. “Lucky Seven, yeah?” Harry squeaked and made sure to curve his spine enough so his arsehole was positioned properly. “And now comes the snogging bit that goes along with, alright? Ready?”
“Seven…” Harry echoed faintly, flushing a brilliant red in the dim light of the closet. “Got it. Very lucky, yeah. Er…Go, please-I’m dying without you, Draco.”
“Nhhn!” Draco grunted, poked blindly for a second before groping between Harry’s speasd thighs for guidance, and thrust in, full throttle. “Nhn-ungh!”
“Oh-god-oh-god-oh-Merlin!’ Harry squealed, his eyes rolling back as his head thumped the wall painfully. “Oh-thasss-so-goo-goo-brilliant!”
“Damn straight!”
A Muggle bomb could’ve exploded unnoted outside the broom closet for all the attention they paid their surroundings. It was all about ‘Faster!’ and ‘Oh, fuck me!’ and ‘Hurry!’ for the next several moments.
“…Hey?” Draco fiddled with his robes, sorting them, and didn’t look too closely when he opened his mouth after. It was dim in the closet; odds were in his favour Potter couldn’t see he was nerve-wracked. “Harry?”
“Um?” Harry was also straightening up, though nothing would disguise the puffed-up lips or the dazed air he’d about him. Draco grinned in quiet satisfaction.
Fourteen to go and he’d wager he’d gained the upper hand, definitely.
“Dinner?”
“…Yes. Yes,” Harry nodded decisively after a very brief pause. “Please.”
^-^
Two more snogs of Draco’s twenty-one were positively frittered away, mostly due to Draco being unable to settle into the last of his afternoon’s routine form filing. He made excuses to leave his desk and caught Harry first in the hall just outside of the floo-a short snog but a brilliant one-and the second time in the lav, staring fixedly over his shoulder at his own bum.
“Problem?” he enquired suavely, trapping Harry against the sink. “Harry?”
“Oh, no!” Harry blushed. “Just…just looking. That’s all. Looking.”
“Hmm...” Draco let it go, in favour of dropping to his knees before his beloved. He rubbed his hands hard across the muscles bunching beneath the trousers and looked up with one pale brow cocked in question. “Then you won’t mind if I suck you off, in that case?”
“Oh! Oh, no!” Harry spluttered, and Draco dove in, nipping, lipping and mouthing, hungry for scent-for skin beneath wool weave-for the taste of salt and musk that was harry. “’God fucking no!” Harry groaned and gave himself over.
At close of day it was no trick to separate Harry from the pack flowing inexorably toward the floos. He came quite willingly, ignoring the titters of the Parvati sisters and Lavender ‘Hot Knickers’ Brown.
Draco ignored all of them roundly and kept a hand safely on Harry’s elbow as he steered them aside, waiting for the first rush out to be over.
“I’ve reservations,” he murmured pridefully. “At Antonio’s. Drinks first?”
“Hmm-hmmh,” Harry nodded happily and they made their way out, on the neap end of tide of Magical Ministry workers. “Sounds brilliant. Pricey, but brilliant.”
“Bugger ‘pricey’. Cost, Harry,” Draco bent his head so he could stare deeply into Harry’s eyes, slowing their pace to a crawl to do so, “is no object when one is seeking to impress. Are you?”
“Oh…” Harry, a facile blusher, reddened, but he seemed calm enough for a man who’d been ravished repeatedly. “I am. Really, I am. Hermione’s just not going to quite believe it, that’s all.”
“Oh, really?” Draco was taken aback. “And why’s that, Harry?”
“Well…fancy places. You know,” Harry shrugged. “Not my gig, really.”
“Ah…” Draco paused as they exited the telephone booth at street level. “Harry, you know?”
“Yes?”
“That should change. In fact, we’ll change that immediately. Antonio’s is five-star, yeah?”
“Er…why?” Harry seemed puzzled. Draco dazzled him promptly with a million watt smile. “Why should it change, Draco?”
Draco stared at him, perplexed briefly.
“Because you’re worth it, Harry. And you need to know that. Remember it, because it’s true. Aright?”
Harry gasped, turning colours; snorted and stumbled a bit, going forward. Draco steadied him, a puzzled frown dawning on his high patrician brow.
“Harry? You believe me…don’t you?”
“It’s just…” Harry gulped audibly and looked every which way but at Draco, striding onwards besides him. “It’s rich, coming from you. I mean…”
“You mean?”
“It’s like a novel, this.” He waved a hand at them, obviously together, obviously on a date, twisting their way through the crowded streets of five o’clock London, and just a breadth away from holding hands or something equally soppy. “Us, together. What you’ve done. All so very…very…”
“Very?”
“Romantic. Like a dream-or a film. Or something. But…not my life, Draco. Never my life.”
“Oh, Harry,” In response, Draco stopped abruptly, halting them both in their tracks and earning a few smart remarks from passersby. He tugged his companion forcibly into a convenient alley opening, manhandling him up against a brick wall when he proved a bit reluctant. “Come on.”
“What?” Harry whined, shifty of feet and eye. “Why’re we stopping here, Draco?”
“Listen. Just listen.” Draco shoved at Harry’s one shoulder, mocking but not, his face a study in frowning concentration. “You’re an idiot, idiot.”
“Oi!”
“No, really, you are,” Draco was certain of it. He’d practically assaulted Harry; had had his arse and his mouth and his cock, and was absolutely planning on having them again-and more. And often. A regular thing, a…relationship. That’s it…what he wanted, really: a relationship. “It’s clear I’m enamoured of you, Harry. I don’t see the problem. Why’re you so surprised I’d take good care of you?”
“Well…”
“Has someone not-before?” Draco demanded, instantly on guard. He’d not heard any rumours round the Ministry but then he was in the field often and might not have. “Harry? Have you been…burnt?”
“No!” Harry stomped the heel of his shoe soundly, making a dull smack on the dirty pavers. “No, of course not. It’s only...”
“Only what?”
“I…this is all the hare’s foot, isn’t it? What you’re doing with me?” Harry blurted out in a rush. “I mean, it has to be. It all adds up, the Romany lady and the ‘Notice Me’ Charm and all the snogging-“
“Harry-“
“Shut it for a second, Draco,” Harry shook his head, scowling. “I’m just now putting this together, alright?”
“Harry!”
“But okay, then, maybe you’re interested. Merlin knows, I’m interested, but I just don’t see why you couldn’t have just asked me-“
“Oh, come on, Harry,” Draco snorted, relaxing and rocking back on his heels. “Really, are you serious? That’s not how it’s done, git.”
“What?” Harry gulped, gaped and opened his eyes very wide behind his wire framed spectacles, “you mean this is how you go about dating people, Draco Malfoy? But-but it’s so convoluted Why not just ask me-?”
“Harry, really,” Draco drawled. He stepped forward, crowing his lover up against the wall. “You’re the limit, I swear. Think; just consider. Be serious. Why would I ever allow you an out? D’you take me for a fool? Cause I’m not. Many things, maybe, but not a fool. No longer-‘least not where you’re concerned!”
“Oh!”
There was a small silence. Draco bent forward and nibbled his way up Harry’s jaw to pass the time. He knew Harry was sometimes not all there, not when it came to the intricacies of interaction with people, but still… he could keep himself happily busy whilst he waited.
“…Oooohh…I get it now,” Harry murmured at last, relaxing finally into Draco’s trapping arms. “Tricky, Malfoy. Very tricky, that. Slytherin.”
“Yep,” Draco replied happily. “Middle name, Harry--after Black, that is. And it bloody well worked, didn’t it?”
“Uh…”
“Grrr!” A few fast furious kisses were tossed about like confetti. “Harry?”
“Yesss! Yes, alright-it did, you git! Stop chewing my neck to bits, already!”
Snogs numbers Ten and Eleven were spent kissing Harry back into the preferred mostly incoherent state, mainly because Draco couldn’t stand to air out his inner thoughts concerning long-term pashes and such. And Harry would ask, being gormless and just like that.
…But also because Harry was looking rather delightful, all debauched and forced up against a dirty brick wall in a Muggle alley. It was very film noir and Draco really loved the genre, so…
Snog Thirteen was nearly spent the same way. But-
“Hmmm…hungry,” Harry detached himself at last, and edged a hand between them to rub at his trim belly, which obligingly rumbled. “Fucking famished, really. You’ll have to feed me, Draco, or there’ll be no pudding, after. I’m a little light-head-“
“Well!” Draco huffed, turning them both abruptly a quarter-spin into Apparate. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place, moron?”
~_^
“I didn’t know Antonio’s did carry away,” Harry remarked, his face full of wonder at the various cartons, fine china and so forth scattered across Draco’s flat’s dining room table. “It’s really delicious, though. Even cold, like this. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Draco smiled, casting a discreet warming charm on Harry’s chocolate lava cake. This he wanted to see-Harry lapping up molten chocolate, doing very delicious things to a spoon. Would be something to dream of, and maybe also wank to, on the morrow-not that he intended to wank, precisely. Not alone, at least. “Want more wine, Harry? There’s plenty.”
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“It’s decent, though. The vintage.”
“Umm, no,” Harry shook his head, his eyelids lowered. “None for me, thanks.” He continued to not look at Draco; it was difficult enough as it was, all the horrible uncertainty as to the man’s intentions. “I’m…I’m actually a little sleepy, Draco. Should go. Wouldn’t want to outstay my wel-”
“Don’t be foolish, Harry,” Draco swarmed round the table in a flash, his long body crowding up against Harry’s person as he dropped to his elegant knees. Harry was fixed with an eloquent stare, one he couldn’t avoid even if Voldemort himself had appeared to threaten him. “You’re going nowhere at all but my bed tonight and you know it. Don’t be coy, now.”
“I-really?” Harry was actually shocked, after all that had gone before. Draco had to shake his head over it; Gryffindors! Really, they were the utter limit! “You mean it, Draco? I can stay?”
“More like…” Draco purred, hands busy sweeping the serviette off Harry’s naked thighs, “I’ll use a bloody Sticking Charm to keep you here if I must. Honestly, Harry-did you really think I’d want you to go?”
“Um…maybe?”
“Harry.”
“…What?”
“I’ve spent five fucking days, on top of one whole solid year, plus any number before that-look, it makes me cringe to even consider, alright? Piling up, all this time; chances wasted, Harry-and see? Now I’ve got you, right where I want you-”
“Yes?”
“Was trying to work up a decent way to fix your interest, dolt,” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes at Harry fondly. “And not in a matey way, either, alright? We’re never going to be friends, Harry-face it.”
“No?” Harry pouted, looking abruptly disappointed. “But…”
“Nothing,” Draco interjected firmly. “And I don’t want to, either. I’m your lover, Harry. Lover,” he enunciated, teeth snapping the word neatly. “That’s it; full stop. New word for you, I know, but you can cope, I think. Get used to it.”
“Ah? Erm-ulp!”
Harry didn’t reply one way or the other. No chance to, as Draco had dipped his head and started again with the snog fest. Harry’s mouth was too occupied with that to waste time with mere talking.
^~^
Mornings after were not something Harry participated in, normally.
“Huh?” Thus, he sat straight up, clutching the sheet to his waist, patently astounded. “What the?”
“Harry…” Draco-because it was really Draco and not some dream of him, no matter how hard, hot, wet or realistic-hooked a bare arm round Harry’s waist and tugged him down again. “Harry, it’s the weekend. Saturday. Go back to sleep-I’m knackered. You’ve worn me out, you beastly man.”
Harry twisted about, gazing at his bedmate with a species of sleepy wonder.
“I…uh, what? Really, it is?”
“Of course it is. Oh, you are so-!”
But Harry never found out what he was, precisely. A whole new day had dawned and the hare’s foot was apparently still very actively working. Thirty-three snogs awaited him, along with added extras.
“Umm…m’okay….” Harry allowed, after enjoying the first one to the fullest and allowing his kneecaps to smash into his earlobes with nary a whimper when Draco pushed him hard into the mattress. “Alright, then.”
Grey eyes were triumphant; Harry didn’t mind it all. Fancy!
“That’s what I thought you’d say, Harry,” Draco grinned down at him delightedly, all brilliant smiles. “That’s precisely what I thought you’d say.”
~_~
“Hermione.”
“Mm?”
“Got something for you. It’s a present.”
“Yes?”
They were at the usual local, meeting at the usual time after work. Hermione was in DOM somewhere, so she never said much about her day, but she’d sure changed her ways concerning after-work drinking habits. Chocolate martinis were her current favourites. She could make them disappear like no one’s business.
“What is it, Harry?”
“It’s. Well, it’s for being you…and for not asking me stupid questions, alright? Take it-it’s, erm….it’s useful. You’ll, erm…you’ll like the effects, I’m sure.”
Harry smiled across the table at her as he trundled the small nicely wrapped packet to her side; it was nice to still have a mate to hang about with. Ron was pretty damn boring anymore, what with ‘Hot Knickers’ to go home to.
“What, really, Harry?” Hermione laughed lightly, as she unwrapped it, touching a hesitant finger to the red-dyed hare’s foot that appeared. O a gold chain, of course; Draco had said it was most fitting. “Come on, why give one of these to me? That’s nothing but silly old Muggle superstition, the luck thing. You can’t be serious, Harry. They aren’t any luckier than an-an I don’t know what!”
“Well…I am.” Harry set his lips mutinously, looking obstinate. “And it is, Hermione You’ll see. I bet you’d like it if, say, Justin snogged you. That’d be lucky, wouldn’t it?”
“Whaaat?!” Harry!”
Hermione sloshed her choco-tini as she jerked upright in her seat, flustered. Her interest in Justin wasn’t new but it was certainly a sore spot. Justin had never so much as noticed Hermione had her eyes on him, for one. For another, rumour was he was banging ‘Hot Knickers’, too.
Harry winced, sincerely hoping his mate hadn’t heard that one.
….Well, either of his mates.
“Harry James Potter! What exactly have you done to this stupid Muggle toy? Tell me right now, you little sod, or I’ll he-”
“Oi! Calm down, Hermione!” Harry flapped his hands uselessly, rather as one would at a raging bull, recently red-flagged. “Calm the feck down, alright? You don’t have to wave that thing at me! For the love of the Founders and Dumbledore’s wrinkled old arse, Hermione, I’m only trying to help you.”
“…Yes, do, Granger. No need for upset.”
Malfoy slid smoothly into the seat next to Harry’s, a tray with refills wafting along behind him.
“Potter here is just trying to do you a favour. Be nice to him.”
“Malfoy!” Hermione snorted, leaning forward with a dangerous look on her pretty face. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?” she demanded, eyeing the intruder narrowly. “Who invited you to this party?”
“Well..” Harry mumbled, red-cheeked, “I sort of did…actually. And, er, I meant to tell you-um?”
Hermione didn’t seem to hear him, busy with all her lip-curling and eye-flashing at a coolly collected Draco Malfoy. “I didn’t know you and Harry were friends?” She remarked this as if the concept were so totally foreign as to be impossible. She sneered, lifting her chin, and Harry gave her a glance of admiration. Apparently his wicked smart friend had learnt other things at Hogwarts besides the stuff in books-she was a sweet hand at sneering.
“Now, wait a moment, Hermione--!” Harry began, determined to set the record straight. All of it, which was likely tobe complicated. But, firstly-foremostly-that Draco was a problem. As he wasn’t. To wit: “It’s not like that!”
“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione brushed him off. “I’m asking Malfoy what in Merlin’s name he thinks he’s doing here, barging in on a private conversation-between friends.”
“But that’s just it, Hermione!” Harry shifted his seat closer to the newcomer. “He’s more than tha-“
“Friends?” Draco repeated the word as if it were so trite it wasn’t worth considering. “You think we’re friends, Granger? Mates, even? Me and Harry here?”
“Well?” Hermione’s lips thinned. “Why else would be here, butting in, Malfoy? What’s your excuse?”
“But we’re not, Granger. We’re lovers,” Draco smirked sweetly, toasting her ready scowl with his pint. “Harry and I. There’s a considerable difference, you know? And it’s not some dumb Muggle trick, either-the Hare’s foot Charm. Besides, it’s already been set for you.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione repeated, falling back. She took a quick slurp of her drink, hesitated and then downed it entirely. Harry watched her, anxiously.
“I was only trying to help, Hermione-“ he started, but Draco nudged him with a sharp elbow and he shut up, finally.
“Let me handle this, Harry. Clearly your Granger’s not getting it.”
“Oi!” Hermione exclaimed, eyes snapping. “What the!? Malfoy!”
“Ahem.” Draco cleared his throat, settling into his seat and assuming an expression of politic blandness. “It goes like this, alright? Granger, firstly, this is for your benefit, the Charm. Harry and I, we’ve already prepared it, alright? And tested it successfully, which Im sure you’ve noticed already. So, yoy, Granger, only have to incant the ‘Notice Me’ spell and your little Finch-Fletchley boy-toy will be falling all over himself to abandon that airhead he’s got and get at you, instead. As in, your knickers, not that Hot Pants Brown bint’s. Clear?”
Harry nodded approvingly. It was clear as day to him, at least.
“Not clear! Harry!” Hermione was appalled-and possibly also humiliated-as she turned a hot-cheeked face to him, her sherry-brown gaze wide and furious. “You told Malfoy about that? About-about me and Justin? How dare you?!”
“Erm?” Harry blushed, shrinking back in his chair. “Whoops? I, um, kind of couldn’t help it, Hermione? I mean, he asked about my mates, y’see, and that’s you and Ron-and Ron’s alright. He’s got Hot Knickers, but you-you, well. You, not so much.“
“Much what, Harry! What. About. Me?” Hermione hissed. Her wand danced a mean little circle, pointed straight at Harry’s bits. “What is it you’ve said to him, exactly? I can’t believe you actually opened up your thoughtless little gob and told Malfoy that I fancied Justin! So help me Merlin, I’m going to murder you!”
“Whoa, Granger!” Draco slotted a warm band of an arm around Harry’s shoulders, leaning in familiarly. “Whoa, now. Let’s just settle down, shall we? Take a powder, do. Really, it’s nothing bad, the Hare’s Foot. No harm, no foul. I was just interested, is all. It’s what lovers do-taking an interest. Caring and what’s it. And if you can’t trust me, Granger, then trust him. He’s your old mate, even if I’m not.”
“Hah!” Hermione was speechless with fury. Harry edged a bit closer to Draco, feeling very small. His friend hated being shown up to be vulnerable; she’d hex him in a minute if she thought Harry’s new lover would use her crush against her somehow. “Hah! Hah! Hah!”
She seemed to feel as if this were the last word on the subject, sitting back with a huff and a nasty twirl to her wand end.
“Um?” Harry started, tentatively. “Herm-“
But Draco was grinning at her, and in a nice way. A wave of his wand had a whole other pitcher of choco-tinis appearing on the tabletop.
“Harry’s not about to deliberately hurt you, Granger-now, is he? On the contrary, he wants you happy, the silly sod. Because he is, evidently, thanks very much to yours truly. It seems to be a Gryffindor thing, this reaction. You should be able to relate. Or at least just go with it.”
“Pardon me!?”
“Draco!” Harry wriggled in his seat uncomfortably; Hermione might explode momentarily, choco-tinis or no choco-tinis. Right in the midst of a whole lot of Ministry workers, sucking up their post-five pints, too. And then probably hex both him and Draco to bits, on top of it. “Shush already-you’re not helping!’
“Harry!” He was skewered with a gimlet stare as Hermione grimly topped up her glass. “Harry, what exactly is going on here? You’re in cahoots with Malfoy now? I don’t believe it.”
“Oh, bloody fuck, Potter,” Draco shrugged, rolling his eyes in irritation. “You tell her, then. She won’t listen to reason, apparently. Not unless it’s wriiten down somewhere, at least. I give up.”
He rolled his eyes expressively. Harry sighed.
Damn, but it was time for the hero to step in again. Lucky him.
“Harry? Harry!”
“Um.’ Harry gulped, and took refuge in his own fresh pint. “Well, it’s like Draco said. It’s a device for luck, really, this thing. And…um. Snogging.”
“Really!” Hermione snorted. “I hardly think, Harry-!“
“It may be simple enough, but it works like a charm, and yes, really, Hermione,” Harry shrugged slightly and blushed like a damned fool, his gaze drifting magnetically to the man smirking sweetly at his side. “It’s great, the results...I mean, I was so happy to have it…be given it, rather, and well. It’s your turn, okay? I want you to feel…I want you to be…”
“What, Harry? You want me to what?”
“It’s just. Just maybe that…you’ll…well, maybe you’ll get lucky, too, alright? It’ll work for you. I mean, I think Justin rather fancies you too, even if he’s not ever said anything. In fact, I’d bet on it-he does and you will, Hermione. Be happy too, I mean. Just…just give this to him. Justin, that is. After you spell it to you. For the snogging bit. And then, er…wait about an hour. You’ll see.”
“Excuse me? What’s this about-the snogging bit? Talk to me, Harry-talk faster!”
Both men were speared by suspicious chocolate brown eyes, deep as her martini in colour but not nearly as sweet.
“Ah!” Draco chuckled. “Now we get to it. Light, it dawns.”
“What kind of magic is this, exactly?” Hermione hunkered over her drink, looking ready to grill the stuffing out of them both. “Harry? Malfoy? Because I’ve certainly never heard of anything like-“
“Hare’s foot Charm, Granger,” Draco replied succinctly after a beat. “Induces a certain degree of willingness-Light Magic only, mind you-in one’s object of amatory interest. Do the Arithmancy, will you?”
“One plus one. Hermione,” Harry added, not helpfully. “Plus Charm. Um…equals snogging, yeah?”
“And snogging,” Draco grinned, Kneazle knee-deep in the kippers of Life smug and crowding very close up to Harry, indeed, “equals happy, Granger. Get it now?”
“Huh,” snorted the Smartest Witch of the Century, tapping her wand on the table three times before sliding it away up her sleeve. “Hare’s foot, is it? I always wondered what was up with that, Harry. I knew something odd was going on with you.”
“Wh-what?” Harry went beet-red. “Really?”
“Really.” Hermione filled up her glass again and picked up the Charm, examining it with fresh eyes-professional eyes. Hermione did something in DOM for a living; no doubt this interested in more ways than one. “Now, you two gits-tell me absolutely everything that’s happened. Every juicy, moist detail-why it is I should believe you this would work. And remember, Harry.”
“Y-Yeah, Hermione?”
“This had better be convincing or I really am hexing you. To the moon, Harry-straight to the ruddy damned moon!”
Fin