Tempus, Chapter Nine
Title:Tempus, Chapter Nine
Author: Ravenna C. Tan ravenna_c_tan
House: Ravenclaw
Word Count: 5400 (just this chapter)
Challenge: The "Old Cliches, New Tricks" Fest at hp_cliche
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, specifically homosexual sex acts, furtive kissing, and Slytherins being Slytherins.
Pairing:H/D
Beta Reader Thanks To: miraba
Cliche: Time-travel, but that isn't Snarry.
Disclaimer: Harry, Draco, Hogwarts, and the rest all belong to JK Rowling. I'm just having fun, doing it for the love, not any money.
Summary: Students at Hogwarts have always been warned about corridors that appear and disappear. Did you ever wonder where they go? Or when? Harry thinks he is late to his seventh year potions class, but he turns out to be more than seventy years early.
Author's Note: Well, my repetitive strain injury is still acting up, but I did an hour of typing yesterday and two hours today, just enough to get this chapter up! I will have to take it easy over the weekend, but I will definitely get at least two chapters up per week for the next three weeks. Right now it looks like this puppy is going to pull in at 20 chapters and be close to 100,000 words long. Jeez. Um. I'm glad everyone's enjoying it!
It was the next night during dinner that Harry remembered what it was he had been planning to tell Draco. They were sitting with Crabbe between them, while Draco impugned the Ravenclaws for their ineptitude at dueling, when Heather Whittington strode down from the head table with a message from Professor LeStrange.
"Wants to see you after dinner," she said to Draco, before going on her way to the dungeons.
Draco acknowledged her with a nod and went on with his story. Last year Dumbledore had told Harry to carry his invisibility cloak with him at all times, just in case. Harry still kept it in his book bag out of habit, folded into a side pocket. But his bag was downstairs--he'd left it there since charms class had ended early due to an unfortunate levitation accident. Harry's mind raced. Would Draco come back to the room before going to see LeStrange, or would he go straight to the professor's office? Would there be time to tell Draco his plan?
Possibly not. Harry excused himself and hurried after Heather toward the dungeons. Down the stairs, through the labyrinthine corridors, then through the hidden door, down to the end of the hall and the room. Harry dug the cloak out of his bag, and put it on. He retraced his steps back toward the Great Hall, but almost to the stairs he heard Draco's voice. They were already on their way to LeStrange's.
Harry hurried after them, trying to move fast yet keep his footsteps silent. They had just gone around a corner. Harry went as fast as he dared, but as he turned the corner, he saw the heavy wooden door to LeStrange's office swing shut. The loud clack of a bolt being thrown resounded in the stone corridor. Harry pressed his ear to the wood, then his wand, muttering the eavesdropping spell. He felt a tingle go through him as someone spell-locked the door, but it did not appear that they cast an Imperturbable spell. He could hear Draco's voice.
"Thank you again, professor," he was saying. "You don't know how much this means to me."
"Trust me, Draco," LeStrange answered in a tone that was entirely too familiar for Harry's taste. "I know all too well what you are going through. Now, if you'll wait here?"
"Of course."
There was then silence, the sound of another door opening and closing, and more silence. To Harry it seemed that the sound of his heart beating was getting louder and louder. Thank you AGAIN? he thought. What is it LeStrange is doing for him? And why doesn't he seem to remember anything later? Or does he? It didn't seem likely Draco lied, since he let him read his mind, but Harry had never actually found out if Draco had been obliviated or not.
The door opened again with a creak and Harry heard a different voice say "Draco."
And then he felt like ice water ran through his veins as Draco answered. "Reg!"
There were no voices for a while, though there was the rustling of robes. Harry could only imagine what they were doing now. He slumped against the door. The bite mark. Of course. That explained it. That explained everything, didn't it?
No, not everything. It didn't explain why Draco came in only half-conscious with his memory seemingly altered. But Harry couldn't bear to listen at the door any more. If Draco cried out, whether in pleasure or in pain, he didn't think he'd be able to stand it.
He also didn't want to go back to the Common Room and face Frost, or talk Quidditch. There was an astronomy section tonight so the tower was out. The library?
A short while later Harry sat in the library and composed another letter to Hermione.
Dear Hermione:
Well, it's been a few weeks,
no word from the Ministry,
and I just don't know what to do.
I wish you were here to
think through the situation with me.
Honestly, I haven't<
been thinking about how to
get back very much at all.
It's not that I have so much faith
in the Ministry, but more
that I've made friends and it is
really kind of nice not to
have to worry about
You Know Who while I'm here.
Everything's not perfect, though,
and tonight I remembered
I ought to be doing more to try
to get back. You know, even
thinking about you just gave
me an idea. I think I'm finally
going to read Hogwarts: A History.
That is, if it's been published
yet. Hope to see you soon.
Love,
Harry
P.S. Did I mention they put me in Slytherin?
They're not as evil without You Know Who
around and the dungeon is a lot warmer
than you'd think.
Then he went in search of Hogwarts: A History, and was gratified to find two copies of a 1925 edition available for circulation. He had to promise, as usual, to suffer horrible hexes and flogging for losing, damaging, or defacing the book in order to remove it from the library, but once he did, he took it back to the dungeon and read it in bed while waiting for Draco to return.
He was sound asleep--having gotten only halfway through the first chapter before he conked out--when the spell-locked door opened and Draco came in.
"Draco, are you all right?" Harry increased the illumination in the room.
"I'm fine," Draco said in a small voice.
"Do you remember where you've been? What you've been doing?"
"My head hurts."
Harry was out of bed in an instant and helping Draco into his own bed. "Dray, something's wrong."
"Can we talk about it tomorrow? I'm so sleepy." His eyes were closed as he lay back on his pillow.
"Draco, please." Harry shook him slightly. He didn't want to say he heard him meeting Regulus Black, because he knew it would come out sounding like an accusation. If Draco really didn't remember, then something was very wrong. And if he did remember and was only pretending not to, well, then something else was wrong, something Harry didn't want to think about. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Harry." Draco draped his arms over Harry's shoulders and tried to pull him into the bed, too. "Please lie down."
"Dray, you're still dressed and you're acting weird."
"So undress me. I taught you the charm. I'm too... woozy to do it myself." His arms slid from Harry and he lay like a rag doll, unmoving save his chest rising to breathe.
Harry left him in his clothes, suddenly not wanting to see if there were any new bite marks. And what if Reg had seen the hickey Harry had left? Did he know? Harry backed away from the bed.
"Good night, Draco," he said, even though it was clear that Malfoy was deeply asleep. Harry climbed into his own bed, put the history book aside, and put his glasses next to his wand on the night stand. The bed felt abnormally large without Draco there with him, but Harry ignored the impulse to give up and crawl in with Draco. He told himself they would sort everything out in the morning, and he kept telling himself that until he fell asleep.
As it turned out, there was little time to talk in the morning, and it wasn't until they were in History of Magic that Harry, needing something to keep him awake and unable to keep his feelings bottled up any longer, wrote a short note on a piece of paper and slid it over to Malfoy.
Do you remember last night?
Draco wrote back, in flowing script: Why, did I miss something fun?
Harry shook his head. Wrote: You disappeared with Prof. L. again.
Draco frowned and he rubbed the spot where his eyebrows came together. I don't remember. He glanced up at Binns, who was droning and hovering as usual. Draco pointed at his head then at Harry.
Harry looked confused. Draco pointed to Harry's wand pocket in his robes, then back at his own head.
"Now?" Harry whispered.
Draco nodded, an urgent look in his eyes. Harry glanced around. No one seemed to be paying them any attention. Harry put his wand in his lap, point aimed at Draco, and whispered the incantation.
The memory was fresh, the walk from the Great Hall, Professor LeStrange bantering with one of his favorite students, Draco responding with wit, the door opening, then closing.
Inside LeStrange's office, everything seemed foggy, and Harry knew that Draco's memory had been tampered with. He could see flashes of LeStrange, pouring a drink? A snatch of his voice. "Looking forward to graduation?" "Happy to help with your NEWTs." And an apology, though Harry couldn't tell what it was for. Things Harry had definitely not heard the night before.
Where was Regulus Black? Was it possible for Draco to be hiding the real memory from Harry somehow? He hated that thought, but he wasn't a very practiced legilimens, no matter how often he'd ridden Draco's thoughts while making love to him. The suspicion hurt, like a spike in the chest, and he winced as he disengaged from Draco's mind.
Are you just suspicious because of the Malfoy you know in the future? Harry asked himself.
Draco raised his eyebrows as if to say Well?
Harry wrote on the parchment. Tell you later.
That evening after Quidditch practice he lagged behind on the way back up to the castle when he saw that Whittington was bringing up the rear. He even paused to re-tie his already tied shoelaces--prompting a comment from her about his odd footwear and enlarging the gap between them and the others.
"So, Whittington," Harry said as they began the climb. It was almost too dark to see. "You told me once to ask you later about the headmaster and Malfoy."
"I might have done," she replied evenly.
"Well, it's later." When she didn't say anything after a few steps, Harry went on. "I'm worried about him."
"Draco is Draco," she said with what sounded like a shrug. "But you have some idea by now what kind of... trouble he and Reg got into?"
"Um," Harry was glad the darkness would hide his blush. "Your question to him about the Astronomy Tower made it pretty clear, didn't it? "
"You'd be surprised what people will ignore when it suits them," Heather said. "But yeah, anyway, they got a bit too close for the headmaster's comfort, if you know what I mean."
"And in the end, he sent Regulus away rather than risk them ... seeing each other anymore?"
"Yes." She stopped moving forward and Harry had to back up a step to stay even with her on the walkway. "Potter, there's something you should know."
Harry waited.
"If you're... look. I know you and Draco are close."
Harry felt his heart begin to hammer.
"And I know how he can be very... engrossing."
"I'm not star-struck by him, if that's what you mean..." Harry began.
"That's not what I mean. Listen, I don't care what you do with him or don't do with him when you're together. Most of us accept Draco's ... interests." By 'us' Harry knew she meant the Slytherins. "But he has that suspicion on him, and by spending so much time with him, well, it's bound to reflect on you."
And here Harry had thought they'd been so careful lately not to seem as if they wanted to spend every waking moment glued together. "He's my best friend," Harry said, because he had to say something.
"That may be all well and good, Potter," she said gently, "But I'm suggesting you at least cultivate some ... outside interests to throw arseholes like Timothy Frost off your scent."
Harry tried to imagine himself chatting up Anisette Fogg for the sake of appearances and could only imagine it being a disaster. "I've always been rubbish at talking to women," Harry said, then realized how that might sound. "I mean, especially girls I like. My tongue goes all rubbery and I ..."
Whittington put her hand on his arm. "It doesn't have to be a girl you actually like. And it won't take much to get the rumors started."
"What do you mean?"
"Come here." She pulled him close.
"Heather, I..."
"It's okay, Harry. It's not going to hurt either of us, is it?" She slid her hands under his ears and pulled his face to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, but after a moment she grew bolder and kissed him until they were both breathless. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"I..." Harry's head was spinning with the kiss and with the implications of everything Heather had just said. If she were being sincere about wanting to help him, it still implied she and others suspected that he and Malfoy had more than just a friendship, and he would have to deal with that. And if she weren't sincere? What if this entire scene were just because she was trying to gauge for herself what was going on between him and Draco? If he responded less than enthusiastically, would she suspect? His inner Slytherin hissed--two could play at that game. "Don't you think a hickey would be more convincing?"
"On you or on me?"
"Both," Harry said. "And we need to arrive at the Common Room almost but not quite together, to make it look as if we're trying to make it look like we weren't just ..." He broke off as Heather attached her mouth to his neck, raising a welt and then licking it with her tongue while Harry moaned. He could feel his cock twitch under his trousers. He ignored it, but found it more insistent when he switched to licking and sucking her. He couldn't help it, in his mind, it was Draco's neck he was savaging, and when he pulled away he was panting, his lips swollen and other parts of him as well.
"Oi!" Barnie called from above them on the path, his wand tip lit. "Everything all right down there?"
"Yeah, we're coming," Harry called. "Just had to, er, tie my shoe." He lit the tip of his own wand and they began walking again. He undid the top button his shirt for good measure. As they were about to step into the entrance hall, he said. "So, how do I look?"
"Well, your hair's always a mess, but I'd say you look suitably ravished. Me?" She tossed her hair in mock vanity.
"Jesus, Whittington," Harry said, seeing the purple and black blossom he'd made on her neck for the first time. "I might have overdone it..."
"I bruise easy," she said with a smile. "All right. I'll go first. You come in a minute later."
He nodded, trailing her through the hall, down the stairs. After she went through the doorway into Slytherin, he counted to thirty, then went in after her.
She was there, her hand over the mark on her throat as she stood nodding at something Carrow was saying, but Harry could see Anisette and a few of the other girls looking at her and giggling. Anisette's eyes suddenly turned Harry's way and her hand flew to her mouth. Harry looked away from her, buttoning his shirt button self-consciously, and hurrying toward the hallway to the room, still half-looking back at Heather, at Anisette, at the other eyes that had noted his entrance and, presumably hers.
Yes! He felt a surge of success--the plan seemed to have worked--and then came up short.
Blocking the entry to the hall was Malfoy, a hand on either side of the stone-carved entryway, leaning forward so that his hair obscured one eye. The other eye stared at Harry.
"How was Quidditch practice," Malfoy said in a voice that projected low malice.
"Fine. We're definitely going to beat Gryffindor," Harry said with forced cheerfulness.
Malfoy gave a jerk of his head and went toward the room, Harry following obediently. This time, when the door closed behind them, it was Malfoy who thrust Harry up against the door, and instead of kissing him, merely growled, "What are you up to?"
"I'm sorry," Harry said, suddenly struck by how hard it was to make a sneaky plot sound sincere. "I didn't really... that is, we were just trying to make it look like we have a thing. But we don't. It was Whittington's idea."
"Whittington's idea."
Harry's heart was leaping in his chest like a fish. He'd never seen Draco angry, and to have that anger directed at him, to have caused it... he shook his head as if to clear it. "Listen. She suspects."
"And you decided ravishing her would throw her off the trail?" Draco sneered, eyes narrowed in disbelief.
Harry was stunned by how familiar that expression looked. "No. She decided. Said it would be a good idea to at least start the rumor, so jerks like Frost ..."
"I don't want to hear it," Draco said, pressing Harry back into the door harder. "Do you hear me?"
"Dray, you're the one who said she came on strong..."
"I said 'shut up,' Potter!" He gave one more vicious shove, knocking Harry's head against the wood, but Harry had had enough of Draco's irrationality.
Harry shoved back and shouted, "Is this jealousy, Malfoy? Can't stand the thought of sharing me? Well, I'm not so keen to share you, either!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco looked as if he might charge Harry at any moment.
"Besides, didn't you promise Regulus you'd wait for him? I never promised you anything."
Draco squeezed his eyes shut then, his head bowed as if fighting off pain, but the sight only aroused Harry's anger more than his sympathy.
"You're two-timing the both of us," Harry hissed. "I know it. I know LeStrange is helping you meet with him. I didn't blame you for doing it. I wasn't angry about it, until now."
Draco looked up with shock and confusion in his eyes. "What on earth are you on about, Potter?" His pale skin looked even paler.
"I followed you, last night, when you went with LeStrange," Harry said, turning his back on Draco so he wouldn't have to see the cacophony of emotions that played across that face. "I followed you and I eavesdropped because I was worried about you. So I know you met Regulus Black."
"I what?"
Harry turned back at the rasp of Draco's voice, at what sounded like terror squeezing Draco's throat. Draco sank to his knees where he stood.
"Dray..."
Draco looked up and met Harry's eyes. "What did you see when you legilimized me today?"
Harry took a deep breath, trying to shove his anger back down. "Your memory of what happened last night was definitely altered."
"And you say I met... Reg?" His arms crossed in front of him. as if he were hugging himself.
"I heard it. That's what you called him." Harry gave in. He knelt by Draco but didn't touch him, yet. "You thanked LeStrange for helping you again, like you'd done it before, and he said he understood what you were going through. Then he went out of the room and Regulus came in."
Draco stared into Harry's eyes. "And then what?"
"And then ... well, I can't be sure. You stopped talking. And I quit listening." He was suddenly aware of how flushed his face was. First the chill air outside, flying, then Heather's kisses, then the still, warm air of the dungeons, then Malfoy's anger, then his own... and deep in his groin he still ached, as well. "I think you've been obliviated," he said then, since Draco hadn't replied. "Your memory has definitely been altered."
Draco rubbed his forehead in his palm. "You're saying I'm secretly meeting with Reg, and then I'm forgetting about it?"
"I don't know who's doing it, you, Reg, LeStrange?" Harry pressed his hands together to have something to do with them. "I know it doesn't make sense, but that's the facts as they stand."
Draco began to quake, doubling over, his face a rictus of emotion. "Harry, I..." He crumpled completely to the ground. Harry slid closer to him and ran his hand over Draco's shoulder, caressing him until Draco stopped shaking. When his voice came, it was small and tremulous. "I wanted you to know, but I didn't know how to explain. And I wanted you to help, but at the same time, I didn't."
"You're confusing me, Dray, and it hurts," Harry said simply.
"All right, all right." Draco struggled into a sitting position and ran his hands over his face. "You already know that when Reg left, he asked me to... to wait."
"I saw it in your memories, the first time I legilimized you."
"Well, the next day, LeStrange came to me and said he would help me. He told me Reg is at some kind of sanitorium but that he could arrange for him to floo, once in a while, and that he'd let us see each other that way."
Harry's voice came out colder than he intended. "So, you have been two-timing us both."
"No! There's more. What did you see in my memory of LeStrange's office?"
Harry thought about it. "Just fragments. Some banter about exams, career stuff. That's it. Oh, and he apologized for something."
Draco took Harry's hands in his. "I remember the first visit more clearly. That one, we sat in his office sipping firewhisky and waiting, and eventually it became clear that Reg was not going to show up. LeStrange eventually showed me out and told me he would try to find out what happened. Well, he didn't find out, or didn't explain, and we tried it again another time. Again Reg did not show up." Here he took a deep breath. "I might have tried a third time, around when you came along, I can't remember exactly when. Still no Reg."
Harry felt Draco squeeze his hands. "I know it doesn't make sense. But I began to get angry at him, for standing me up like that. Merlin and Morgana, I miss him so much, Harry..."
"It's okay," Harry said. "It's okay."
Draco went on. "I started to think he was toying with me. That he didn't really love me."
Harry was silent, but Draco read the shocked look in Harry's eyes.
"Reg could be... complicated," Draco said, and Harry nodded, feeling at that moment like perhaps he appreciated how Draco felt. Slytherins make the best complicated lovers. "And here you practically fell into my lap." He managed half a laugh. "Harry, do you have any idea how much I wanted you, right from that very first day?"
Harry felt his lips tingle at the thought. "At the time, I didn't know what to make of it, but now, yeah, I think I do."
Draco made a choking sound as he steeled himself to go on. "I... I wanted you so much I almost resorted to a potion. Almost." He could no longer look into Harry's eyes as he spoke. "I snuck some out of Gullwing's class, Heart's Delight, and laced your glass with it."
Harry had forgotten all about the night Draco had poured him a glass of cassis liqueur and then drunk it himself after Harry'd had only a tiny sip, but that had to be it. "The cassis," he said.
Draco nodded. "But I knew it would be ... wrong. It wouldn't be what I wanted, ultimately."
Harry held his breath,
"Because even though I was lonely, and horny, and wanted you, and wanted to hurt Reg... I didn't want to destroy... that is, if there was any chance..." Draco sputtered. He finally settled on: "You can't know how surprised and relieved I was when you made the first move."
Harry hardly felt like he could be said to have made the first move given that the Truth-or-Dare kiss, the public spanking, nearly drugging him with an aphrodisiac, giving him a broom, arranging him a spot on the Quidditch team, and who knew what else all took place before Harry's impulsive kiss that evening by the lake. But Draco was still speaking.
"And I tried to ..." Now Draco did look up, again. "I didn't expect you to take charge like you have. Not that that makes me guiltless," he added quickly, though his eyes narrowed a bit as he went on. "Or you either, since once you read my mind, you knew, too."
Harry had forgotten that. He had buried his guilty feelings over that easily under the avalanche of feelings he had for Draco. But he tried to focus on the mystery at hand. "So you took me up on my... offer... while you thought Reg was rejecting you," Harry said. "But now it seems like you are seeing him. You're just not remembering it."
Draco bent miserably over, his face in his hands. "It doesn't make sense," he said, through his fingers. He lay his head in Harry's lap then, his eyes dry but he trembled again slightly. "If Reg is meeting me, then why in my memories is he standing me up? And why lately do I not even have those memories? I was telling myself at first it was the firewhisky, and then that it was because it was too painful to remember."
Harry stroked Draco's hair. "That is possible, I suppose," he said. "Even Muggles can sometimes block out painful memories. But can you think of another reason? To hide it from the headmaster, maybe? Or LeStrange, wanting to hide his role in it?"
Malfoy shook his head. "No, then I wouldn't remember the first few times. I remember him trying to help me which is just as bad as him helping me. The headmaster, well, that bears thinking about, I suppose." He went rigid under Harry's hands then.
"What?" Harry asked.
"When Reg left, he talked about this being his only chance. His only choice. I thought it was dramatics at the time--I was upset, too--but he might be serious." Draco looked up into Harry's face. "I think Phineas Nigellus Black might rather have a dead grandson than a gay one."
Harry swallowed.
"It's the only thing that makes sense. Reg still wants to see me, still needs me, but if his grandfather found out what we are doing, if he forced me or legilimized me, he'd be dead. So he or LeStrange are wiping my memory to protect Reg."
Harry clutched Draco's shoulders. "That's terrible, Dray."
"It's the only thing that makes sense," he said again. "Even if it does leave me lonely and heartbroken. At least Reg is..." His throat became too tight to speak.
"But you're not lonely," Harry whispered.
Draco looked up. "No. Thanks to you." He rolled over to face Harry better. "I'm sorry about getting so upset about you and Whittington. Hellfire, Harry, maybe I ought to encourage you to ... get out more ..."
"Quit it already with the self-sacrifice," Harry said with a smirk. "It does not suit you."
Draco put his arms around Harry's neck. "I was absolutely enraged to think about you with someone else."
"If you don't want me to, I won't," Harry said, spurred by the jolt of emotion that went through him to hear Draco's possessiveness stated so bluntly. Draco wanted him for himself. That thought would have scared Harry once, but now it was answered by a fierce echo in his own heart. "I only want you," he breathed, as Draco pulled him down. "When I kissed Whittington, you know it was you I thought about."
"So that boner you've been sporting since you came in really is for me?" Draco whispered with his lips against Harry's.
"Yes," Harry hissed, suddenly eager to get out of his clothes, to get Draco out of his. He pulled at his belt, pushing Draco onto his stomach. He didn't even disrobe completely, neither of them did, before he slicked Draco's ass with a quick lubrication charm and slid a finger inside. Draco pushed back into the penetration with a deep groan.
"Don't make me wait," Draco rasped.
Harry didn't, pressing through the brief resistance of Draco's muscles to sheathe his cock deep. Draco sighed, then gasped as Harry pulled him backward, so they were both on their knees, Draco nearly in Harry's lap and their shirts and robes pooling around them. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's torso and thrust upward into him. Draco's head fell back over Harry's shoulder and his hands slid down on top of Harry's. His right continued downward, snaking under the edge of his shirt to his own cock. As he stroked it, he clenched tighter and Harry moved his hands to Draco's hips, slamming him downward into the thrusts.
"I wish I had three hands," Harry said into Draco's ear, "So I could do this and jerk you off at the same time."
Draco whimpered in answer.
"Tell me when you're going to come, and I'll come, too." Harry slowed the rhythm a bit, lengthening the stroke and deepening his breaths.
"Harry..." Draco said, almost a whisper, his hand flying up and down his cock now under the shirt, "Ha..."
But he did not need to say more. Harry felt the convulsive ripples tightening Draco inside as he came, and he doubled his speed, then tripled it for the last few strokes until his own convulsive ripples took over. He flattened Draco beneath him, milking out two, three last long strokes, legs shuddering, until he collapsed as well in a tangle of sweaty limbs and clothes.
By reflex of long practice they rolled over together, Harry spooning Draco with his arm over his chest as his now-soft penis slipped free. Harry felt a bit like drifting off to sleep, but he knew they weren't quite finished.
"Dray," he said in a soft voice.
"Hm?"
"I... I know Reg was here first. He probably wouldn't be happy about me. And I..." It was easiest to admit this when he felt he had just laid his claim. "I'm not keen on sharing you, you know. But that's not why I'm worried about what happens the next time you go to LeStrange's."
Draco stiffened a little in Harry's arms.
"I think we need to know what is going on, for sure. You're far too out of it when you come from there for a normal memory charm and I'm worried."
"Maybe it's because it's being done repeatedly?"
"Could be. But I think I should be there next time."
"What do you mean 'be there'?"
Harry bit his lip. "I have an invisibility cloak. I can follow you, and ..." he had been about to say 'protect you if I need to' but realized that would make it sound all the more like he wanted to challenge Reg Black for him. "I'll just watch, so we'll really know what is happening to you."
Draco entwined his fingers in Harry's. "I'm not sure I can... I mean, if Reg and I are..."
Harry ran his hand up Draco's chest and under his chin, pulling his head back. "Maybe I'll learn something new that you like," he growled in Draco's ear. Part of him was intensely curious to see what sex between two wizards raised in the wizarding world was like.
"All right," Draco agreed. "All right. The next time I get the summons from LeStrange, come with me. Now can we please get off the floor? Honestly, Potter, is there a reason why you can never bugger me in the bloody bed?"
[Coming Next: Chapter Ten, in which Harry discovers detention in 1926 is quite different than what he is used to.]
Continue to Chapter Ten
Author: Ravenna C. Tan ravenna_c_tan
House: Ravenclaw
Word Count: 5400 (just this chapter)
Challenge: The "Old Cliches, New Tricks" Fest at hp_cliche
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, specifically homosexual sex acts, furtive kissing, and Slytherins being Slytherins.
Pairing:H/D
Beta Reader Thanks To: miraba
Cliche: Time-travel, but that isn't Snarry.
Disclaimer: Harry, Draco, Hogwarts, and the rest all belong to JK Rowling. I'm just having fun, doing it for the love, not any money.
Summary: Students at Hogwarts have always been warned about corridors that appear and disappear. Did you ever wonder where they go? Or when? Harry thinks he is late to his seventh year potions class, but he turns out to be more than seventy years early.
Author's Note: Well, my repetitive strain injury is still acting up, but I did an hour of typing yesterday and two hours today, just enough to get this chapter up! I will have to take it easy over the weekend, but I will definitely get at least two chapters up per week for the next three weeks. Right now it looks like this puppy is going to pull in at 20 chapters and be close to 100,000 words long. Jeez. Um. I'm glad everyone's enjoying it!
It was the next night during dinner that Harry remembered what it was he had been planning to tell Draco. They were sitting with Crabbe between them, while Draco impugned the Ravenclaws for their ineptitude at dueling, when Heather Whittington strode down from the head table with a message from Professor LeStrange.
"Wants to see you after dinner," she said to Draco, before going on her way to the dungeons.
Draco acknowledged her with a nod and went on with his story. Last year Dumbledore had told Harry to carry his invisibility cloak with him at all times, just in case. Harry still kept it in his book bag out of habit, folded into a side pocket. But his bag was downstairs--he'd left it there since charms class had ended early due to an unfortunate levitation accident. Harry's mind raced. Would Draco come back to the room before going to see LeStrange, or would he go straight to the professor's office? Would there be time to tell Draco his plan?
Possibly not. Harry excused himself and hurried after Heather toward the dungeons. Down the stairs, through the labyrinthine corridors, then through the hidden door, down to the end of the hall and the room. Harry dug the cloak out of his bag, and put it on. He retraced his steps back toward the Great Hall, but almost to the stairs he heard Draco's voice. They were already on their way to LeStrange's.
Harry hurried after them, trying to move fast yet keep his footsteps silent. They had just gone around a corner. Harry went as fast as he dared, but as he turned the corner, he saw the heavy wooden door to LeStrange's office swing shut. The loud clack of a bolt being thrown resounded in the stone corridor. Harry pressed his ear to the wood, then his wand, muttering the eavesdropping spell. He felt a tingle go through him as someone spell-locked the door, but it did not appear that they cast an Imperturbable spell. He could hear Draco's voice.
"Thank you again, professor," he was saying. "You don't know how much this means to me."
"Trust me, Draco," LeStrange answered in a tone that was entirely too familiar for Harry's taste. "I know all too well what you are going through. Now, if you'll wait here?"
"Of course."
There was then silence, the sound of another door opening and closing, and more silence. To Harry it seemed that the sound of his heart beating was getting louder and louder. Thank you AGAIN? he thought. What is it LeStrange is doing for him? And why doesn't he seem to remember anything later? Or does he? It didn't seem likely Draco lied, since he let him read his mind, but Harry had never actually found out if Draco had been obliviated or not.
The door opened again with a creak and Harry heard a different voice say "Draco."
And then he felt like ice water ran through his veins as Draco answered. "Reg!"
There were no voices for a while, though there was the rustling of robes. Harry could only imagine what they were doing now. He slumped against the door. The bite mark. Of course. That explained it. That explained everything, didn't it?
No, not everything. It didn't explain why Draco came in only half-conscious with his memory seemingly altered. But Harry couldn't bear to listen at the door any more. If Draco cried out, whether in pleasure or in pain, he didn't think he'd be able to stand it.
He also didn't want to go back to the Common Room and face Frost, or talk Quidditch. There was an astronomy section tonight so the tower was out. The library?
A short while later Harry sat in the library and composed another letter to Hermione.
Dear Hermione:
Well, it's been a few weeks,
no word from the Ministry,
and I just don't know what to do.
I wish you were here to
think through the situation with me.
Honestly, I haven't<
been thinking about how to
get back very much at all.
It's not that I have so much faith
in the Ministry, but more
that I've made friends and it is
really kind of nice not to
have to worry about
You Know Who while I'm here.
Everything's not perfect, though,
and tonight I remembered
I ought to be doing more to try
to get back. You know, even
thinking about you just gave
me an idea. I think I'm finally
going to read Hogwarts: A History.
That is, if it's been published
yet. Hope to see you soon.
Love,
Harry
P.S. Did I mention they put me in Slytherin?
They're not as evil without You Know Who
around and the dungeon is a lot warmer
than you'd think.
Then he went in search of Hogwarts: A History, and was gratified to find two copies of a 1925 edition available for circulation. He had to promise, as usual, to suffer horrible hexes and flogging for losing, damaging, or defacing the book in order to remove it from the library, but once he did, he took it back to the dungeon and read it in bed while waiting for Draco to return.
He was sound asleep--having gotten only halfway through the first chapter before he conked out--when the spell-locked door opened and Draco came in.
"Draco, are you all right?" Harry increased the illumination in the room.
"I'm fine," Draco said in a small voice.
"Do you remember where you've been? What you've been doing?"
"My head hurts."
Harry was out of bed in an instant and helping Draco into his own bed. "Dray, something's wrong."
"Can we talk about it tomorrow? I'm so sleepy." His eyes were closed as he lay back on his pillow.
"Draco, please." Harry shook him slightly. He didn't want to say he heard him meeting Regulus Black, because he knew it would come out sounding like an accusation. If Draco really didn't remember, then something was very wrong. And if he did remember and was only pretending not to, well, then something else was wrong, something Harry didn't want to think about. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Harry." Draco draped his arms over Harry's shoulders and tried to pull him into the bed, too. "Please lie down."
"Dray, you're still dressed and you're acting weird."
"So undress me. I taught you the charm. I'm too... woozy to do it myself." His arms slid from Harry and he lay like a rag doll, unmoving save his chest rising to breathe.
Harry left him in his clothes, suddenly not wanting to see if there were any new bite marks. And what if Reg had seen the hickey Harry had left? Did he know? Harry backed away from the bed.
"Good night, Draco," he said, even though it was clear that Malfoy was deeply asleep. Harry climbed into his own bed, put the history book aside, and put his glasses next to his wand on the night stand. The bed felt abnormally large without Draco there with him, but Harry ignored the impulse to give up and crawl in with Draco. He told himself they would sort everything out in the morning, and he kept telling himself that until he fell asleep.
As it turned out, there was little time to talk in the morning, and it wasn't until they were in History of Magic that Harry, needing something to keep him awake and unable to keep his feelings bottled up any longer, wrote a short note on a piece of paper and slid it over to Malfoy.
Do you remember last night?
Draco wrote back, in flowing script: Why, did I miss something fun?
Harry shook his head. Wrote: You disappeared with Prof. L. again.
Draco frowned and he rubbed the spot where his eyebrows came together. I don't remember. He glanced up at Binns, who was droning and hovering as usual. Draco pointed at his head then at Harry.
Harry looked confused. Draco pointed to Harry's wand pocket in his robes, then back at his own head.
"Now?" Harry whispered.
Draco nodded, an urgent look in his eyes. Harry glanced around. No one seemed to be paying them any attention. Harry put his wand in his lap, point aimed at Draco, and whispered the incantation.
The memory was fresh, the walk from the Great Hall, Professor LeStrange bantering with one of his favorite students, Draco responding with wit, the door opening, then closing.
Inside LeStrange's office, everything seemed foggy, and Harry knew that Draco's memory had been tampered with. He could see flashes of LeStrange, pouring a drink? A snatch of his voice. "Looking forward to graduation?" "Happy to help with your NEWTs." And an apology, though Harry couldn't tell what it was for. Things Harry had definitely not heard the night before.
Where was Regulus Black? Was it possible for Draco to be hiding the real memory from Harry somehow? He hated that thought, but he wasn't a very practiced legilimens, no matter how often he'd ridden Draco's thoughts while making love to him. The suspicion hurt, like a spike in the chest, and he winced as he disengaged from Draco's mind.
Are you just suspicious because of the Malfoy you know in the future? Harry asked himself.
Draco raised his eyebrows as if to say Well?
Harry wrote on the parchment. Tell you later.
That evening after Quidditch practice he lagged behind on the way back up to the castle when he saw that Whittington was bringing up the rear. He even paused to re-tie his already tied shoelaces--prompting a comment from her about his odd footwear and enlarging the gap between them and the others.
"So, Whittington," Harry said as they began the climb. It was almost too dark to see. "You told me once to ask you later about the headmaster and Malfoy."
"I might have done," she replied evenly.
"Well, it's later." When she didn't say anything after a few steps, Harry went on. "I'm worried about him."
"Draco is Draco," she said with what sounded like a shrug. "But you have some idea by now what kind of... trouble he and Reg got into?"
"Um," Harry was glad the darkness would hide his blush. "Your question to him about the Astronomy Tower made it pretty clear, didn't it? "
"You'd be surprised what people will ignore when it suits them," Heather said. "But yeah, anyway, they got a bit too close for the headmaster's comfort, if you know what I mean."
"And in the end, he sent Regulus away rather than risk them ... seeing each other anymore?"
"Yes." She stopped moving forward and Harry had to back up a step to stay even with her on the walkway. "Potter, there's something you should know."
Harry waited.
"If you're... look. I know you and Draco are close."
Harry felt his heart begin to hammer.
"And I know how he can be very... engrossing."
"I'm not star-struck by him, if that's what you mean..." Harry began.
"That's not what I mean. Listen, I don't care what you do with him or don't do with him when you're together. Most of us accept Draco's ... interests." By 'us' Harry knew she meant the Slytherins. "But he has that suspicion on him, and by spending so much time with him, well, it's bound to reflect on you."
And here Harry had thought they'd been so careful lately not to seem as if they wanted to spend every waking moment glued together. "He's my best friend," Harry said, because he had to say something.
"That may be all well and good, Potter," she said gently, "But I'm suggesting you at least cultivate some ... outside interests to throw arseholes like Timothy Frost off your scent."
Harry tried to imagine himself chatting up Anisette Fogg for the sake of appearances and could only imagine it being a disaster. "I've always been rubbish at talking to women," Harry said, then realized how that might sound. "I mean, especially girls I like. My tongue goes all rubbery and I ..."
Whittington put her hand on his arm. "It doesn't have to be a girl you actually like. And it won't take much to get the rumors started."
"What do you mean?"
"Come here." She pulled him close.
"Heather, I..."
"It's okay, Harry. It's not going to hurt either of us, is it?" She slid her hands under his ears and pulled his face to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, but after a moment she grew bolder and kissed him until they were both breathless. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"I..." Harry's head was spinning with the kiss and with the implications of everything Heather had just said. If she were being sincere about wanting to help him, it still implied she and others suspected that he and Malfoy had more than just a friendship, and he would have to deal with that. And if she weren't sincere? What if this entire scene were just because she was trying to gauge for herself what was going on between him and Draco? If he responded less than enthusiastically, would she suspect? His inner Slytherin hissed--two could play at that game. "Don't you think a hickey would be more convincing?"
"On you or on me?"
"Both," Harry said. "And we need to arrive at the Common Room almost but not quite together, to make it look as if we're trying to make it look like we weren't just ..." He broke off as Heather attached her mouth to his neck, raising a welt and then licking it with her tongue while Harry moaned. He could feel his cock twitch under his trousers. He ignored it, but found it more insistent when he switched to licking and sucking her. He couldn't help it, in his mind, it was Draco's neck he was savaging, and when he pulled away he was panting, his lips swollen and other parts of him as well.
"Oi!" Barnie called from above them on the path, his wand tip lit. "Everything all right down there?"
"Yeah, we're coming," Harry called. "Just had to, er, tie my shoe." He lit the tip of his own wand and they began walking again. He undid the top button his shirt for good measure. As they were about to step into the entrance hall, he said. "So, how do I look?"
"Well, your hair's always a mess, but I'd say you look suitably ravished. Me?" She tossed her hair in mock vanity.
"Jesus, Whittington," Harry said, seeing the purple and black blossom he'd made on her neck for the first time. "I might have overdone it..."
"I bruise easy," she said with a smile. "All right. I'll go first. You come in a minute later."
He nodded, trailing her through the hall, down the stairs. After she went through the doorway into Slytherin, he counted to thirty, then went in after her.
She was there, her hand over the mark on her throat as she stood nodding at something Carrow was saying, but Harry could see Anisette and a few of the other girls looking at her and giggling. Anisette's eyes suddenly turned Harry's way and her hand flew to her mouth. Harry looked away from her, buttoning his shirt button self-consciously, and hurrying toward the hallway to the room, still half-looking back at Heather, at Anisette, at the other eyes that had noted his entrance and, presumably hers.
Yes! He felt a surge of success--the plan seemed to have worked--and then came up short.
Blocking the entry to the hall was Malfoy, a hand on either side of the stone-carved entryway, leaning forward so that his hair obscured one eye. The other eye stared at Harry.
"How was Quidditch practice," Malfoy said in a voice that projected low malice.
"Fine. We're definitely going to beat Gryffindor," Harry said with forced cheerfulness.
Malfoy gave a jerk of his head and went toward the room, Harry following obediently. This time, when the door closed behind them, it was Malfoy who thrust Harry up against the door, and instead of kissing him, merely growled, "What are you up to?"
"I'm sorry," Harry said, suddenly struck by how hard it was to make a sneaky plot sound sincere. "I didn't really... that is, we were just trying to make it look like we have a thing. But we don't. It was Whittington's idea."
"Whittington's idea."
Harry's heart was leaping in his chest like a fish. He'd never seen Draco angry, and to have that anger directed at him, to have caused it... he shook his head as if to clear it. "Listen. She suspects."
"And you decided ravishing her would throw her off the trail?" Draco sneered, eyes narrowed in disbelief.
Harry was stunned by how familiar that expression looked. "No. She decided. Said it would be a good idea to at least start the rumor, so jerks like Frost ..."
"I don't want to hear it," Draco said, pressing Harry back into the door harder. "Do you hear me?"
"Dray, you're the one who said she came on strong..."
"I said 'shut up,' Potter!" He gave one more vicious shove, knocking Harry's head against the wood, but Harry had had enough of Draco's irrationality.
Harry shoved back and shouted, "Is this jealousy, Malfoy? Can't stand the thought of sharing me? Well, I'm not so keen to share you, either!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco looked as if he might charge Harry at any moment.
"Besides, didn't you promise Regulus you'd wait for him? I never promised you anything."
Draco squeezed his eyes shut then, his head bowed as if fighting off pain, but the sight only aroused Harry's anger more than his sympathy.
"You're two-timing the both of us," Harry hissed. "I know it. I know LeStrange is helping you meet with him. I didn't blame you for doing it. I wasn't angry about it, until now."
Draco looked up with shock and confusion in his eyes. "What on earth are you on about, Potter?" His pale skin looked even paler.
"I followed you, last night, when you went with LeStrange," Harry said, turning his back on Draco so he wouldn't have to see the cacophony of emotions that played across that face. "I followed you and I eavesdropped because I was worried about you. So I know you met Regulus Black."
"I what?"
Harry turned back at the rasp of Draco's voice, at what sounded like terror squeezing Draco's throat. Draco sank to his knees where he stood.
"Dray..."
Draco looked up and met Harry's eyes. "What did you see when you legilimized me today?"
Harry took a deep breath, trying to shove his anger back down. "Your memory of what happened last night was definitely altered."
"And you say I met... Reg?" His arms crossed in front of him. as if he were hugging himself.
"I heard it. That's what you called him." Harry gave in. He knelt by Draco but didn't touch him, yet. "You thanked LeStrange for helping you again, like you'd done it before, and he said he understood what you were going through. Then he went out of the room and Regulus came in."
Draco stared into Harry's eyes. "And then what?"
"And then ... well, I can't be sure. You stopped talking. And I quit listening." He was suddenly aware of how flushed his face was. First the chill air outside, flying, then Heather's kisses, then the still, warm air of the dungeons, then Malfoy's anger, then his own... and deep in his groin he still ached, as well. "I think you've been obliviated," he said then, since Draco hadn't replied. "Your memory has definitely been altered."
Draco rubbed his forehead in his palm. "You're saying I'm secretly meeting with Reg, and then I'm forgetting about it?"
"I don't know who's doing it, you, Reg, LeStrange?" Harry pressed his hands together to have something to do with them. "I know it doesn't make sense, but that's the facts as they stand."
Draco began to quake, doubling over, his face a rictus of emotion. "Harry, I..." He crumpled completely to the ground. Harry slid closer to him and ran his hand over Draco's shoulder, caressing him until Draco stopped shaking. When his voice came, it was small and tremulous. "I wanted you to know, but I didn't know how to explain. And I wanted you to help, but at the same time, I didn't."
"You're confusing me, Dray, and it hurts," Harry said simply.
"All right, all right." Draco struggled into a sitting position and ran his hands over his face. "You already know that when Reg left, he asked me to... to wait."
"I saw it in your memories, the first time I legilimized you."
"Well, the next day, LeStrange came to me and said he would help me. He told me Reg is at some kind of sanitorium but that he could arrange for him to floo, once in a while, and that he'd let us see each other that way."
Harry's voice came out colder than he intended. "So, you have been two-timing us both."
"No! There's more. What did you see in my memory of LeStrange's office?"
Harry thought about it. "Just fragments. Some banter about exams, career stuff. That's it. Oh, and he apologized for something."
Draco took Harry's hands in his. "I remember the first visit more clearly. That one, we sat in his office sipping firewhisky and waiting, and eventually it became clear that Reg was not going to show up. LeStrange eventually showed me out and told me he would try to find out what happened. Well, he didn't find out, or didn't explain, and we tried it again another time. Again Reg did not show up." Here he took a deep breath. "I might have tried a third time, around when you came along, I can't remember exactly when. Still no Reg."
Harry felt Draco squeeze his hands. "I know it doesn't make sense. But I began to get angry at him, for standing me up like that. Merlin and Morgana, I miss him so much, Harry..."
"It's okay," Harry said. "It's okay."
Draco went on. "I started to think he was toying with me. That he didn't really love me."
Harry was silent, but Draco read the shocked look in Harry's eyes.
"Reg could be... complicated," Draco said, and Harry nodded, feeling at that moment like perhaps he appreciated how Draco felt. Slytherins make the best complicated lovers. "And here you practically fell into my lap." He managed half a laugh. "Harry, do you have any idea how much I wanted you, right from that very first day?"
Harry felt his lips tingle at the thought. "At the time, I didn't know what to make of it, but now, yeah, I think I do."
Draco made a choking sound as he steeled himself to go on. "I... I wanted you so much I almost resorted to a potion. Almost." He could no longer look into Harry's eyes as he spoke. "I snuck some out of Gullwing's class, Heart's Delight, and laced your glass with it."
Harry had forgotten all about the night Draco had poured him a glass of cassis liqueur and then drunk it himself after Harry'd had only a tiny sip, but that had to be it. "The cassis," he said.
Draco nodded. "But I knew it would be ... wrong. It wouldn't be what I wanted, ultimately."
Harry held his breath,
"Because even though I was lonely, and horny, and wanted you, and wanted to hurt Reg... I didn't want to destroy... that is, if there was any chance..." Draco sputtered. He finally settled on: "You can't know how surprised and relieved I was when you made the first move."
Harry hardly felt like he could be said to have made the first move given that the Truth-or-Dare kiss, the public spanking, nearly drugging him with an aphrodisiac, giving him a broom, arranging him a spot on the Quidditch team, and who knew what else all took place before Harry's impulsive kiss that evening by the lake. But Draco was still speaking.
"And I tried to ..." Now Draco did look up, again. "I didn't expect you to take charge like you have. Not that that makes me guiltless," he added quickly, though his eyes narrowed a bit as he went on. "Or you either, since once you read my mind, you knew, too."
Harry had forgotten that. He had buried his guilty feelings over that easily under the avalanche of feelings he had for Draco. But he tried to focus on the mystery at hand. "So you took me up on my... offer... while you thought Reg was rejecting you," Harry said. "But now it seems like you are seeing him. You're just not remembering it."
Draco bent miserably over, his face in his hands. "It doesn't make sense," he said, through his fingers. He lay his head in Harry's lap then, his eyes dry but he trembled again slightly. "If Reg is meeting me, then why in my memories is he standing me up? And why lately do I not even have those memories? I was telling myself at first it was the firewhisky, and then that it was because it was too painful to remember."
Harry stroked Draco's hair. "That is possible, I suppose," he said. "Even Muggles can sometimes block out painful memories. But can you think of another reason? To hide it from the headmaster, maybe? Or LeStrange, wanting to hide his role in it?"
Malfoy shook his head. "No, then I wouldn't remember the first few times. I remember him trying to help me which is just as bad as him helping me. The headmaster, well, that bears thinking about, I suppose." He went rigid under Harry's hands then.
"What?" Harry asked.
"When Reg left, he talked about this being his only chance. His only choice. I thought it was dramatics at the time--I was upset, too--but he might be serious." Draco looked up into Harry's face. "I think Phineas Nigellus Black might rather have a dead grandson than a gay one."
Harry swallowed.
"It's the only thing that makes sense. Reg still wants to see me, still needs me, but if his grandfather found out what we are doing, if he forced me or legilimized me, he'd be dead. So he or LeStrange are wiping my memory to protect Reg."
Harry clutched Draco's shoulders. "That's terrible, Dray."
"It's the only thing that makes sense," he said again. "Even if it does leave me lonely and heartbroken. At least Reg is..." His throat became too tight to speak.
"But you're not lonely," Harry whispered.
Draco looked up. "No. Thanks to you." He rolled over to face Harry better. "I'm sorry about getting so upset about you and Whittington. Hellfire, Harry, maybe I ought to encourage you to ... get out more ..."
"Quit it already with the self-sacrifice," Harry said with a smirk. "It does not suit you."
Draco put his arms around Harry's neck. "I was absolutely enraged to think about you with someone else."
"If you don't want me to, I won't," Harry said, spurred by the jolt of emotion that went through him to hear Draco's possessiveness stated so bluntly. Draco wanted him for himself. That thought would have scared Harry once, but now it was answered by a fierce echo in his own heart. "I only want you," he breathed, as Draco pulled him down. "When I kissed Whittington, you know it was you I thought about."
"So that boner you've been sporting since you came in really is for me?" Draco whispered with his lips against Harry's.
"Yes," Harry hissed, suddenly eager to get out of his clothes, to get Draco out of his. He pulled at his belt, pushing Draco onto his stomach. He didn't even disrobe completely, neither of them did, before he slicked Draco's ass with a quick lubrication charm and slid a finger inside. Draco pushed back into the penetration with a deep groan.
"Don't make me wait," Draco rasped.
Harry didn't, pressing through the brief resistance of Draco's muscles to sheathe his cock deep. Draco sighed, then gasped as Harry pulled him backward, so they were both on their knees, Draco nearly in Harry's lap and their shirts and robes pooling around them. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's torso and thrust upward into him. Draco's head fell back over Harry's shoulder and his hands slid down on top of Harry's. His right continued downward, snaking under the edge of his shirt to his own cock. As he stroked it, he clenched tighter and Harry moved his hands to Draco's hips, slamming him downward into the thrusts.
"I wish I had three hands," Harry said into Draco's ear, "So I could do this and jerk you off at the same time."
Draco whimpered in answer.
"Tell me when you're going to come, and I'll come, too." Harry slowed the rhythm a bit, lengthening the stroke and deepening his breaths.
"Harry..." Draco said, almost a whisper, his hand flying up and down his cock now under the shirt, "Ha..."
But he did not need to say more. Harry felt the convulsive ripples tightening Draco inside as he came, and he doubled his speed, then tripled it for the last few strokes until his own convulsive ripples took over. He flattened Draco beneath him, milking out two, three last long strokes, legs shuddering, until he collapsed as well in a tangle of sweaty limbs and clothes.
By reflex of long practice they rolled over together, Harry spooning Draco with his arm over his chest as his now-soft penis slipped free. Harry felt a bit like drifting off to sleep, but he knew they weren't quite finished.
"Dray," he said in a soft voice.
"Hm?"
"I... I know Reg was here first. He probably wouldn't be happy about me. And I..." It was easiest to admit this when he felt he had just laid his claim. "I'm not keen on sharing you, you know. But that's not why I'm worried about what happens the next time you go to LeStrange's."
Draco stiffened a little in Harry's arms.
"I think we need to know what is going on, for sure. You're far too out of it when you come from there for a normal memory charm and I'm worried."
"Maybe it's because it's being done repeatedly?"
"Could be. But I think I should be there next time."
"What do you mean 'be there'?"
Harry bit his lip. "I have an invisibility cloak. I can follow you, and ..." he had been about to say 'protect you if I need to' but realized that would make it sound all the more like he wanted to challenge Reg Black for him. "I'll just watch, so we'll really know what is happening to you."
Draco entwined his fingers in Harry's. "I'm not sure I can... I mean, if Reg and I are..."
Harry ran his hand up Draco's chest and under his chin, pulling his head back. "Maybe I'll learn something new that you like," he growled in Draco's ear. Part of him was intensely curious to see what sex between two wizards raised in the wizarding world was like.
"All right," Draco agreed. "All right. The next time I get the summons from LeStrange, come with me. Now can we please get off the floor? Honestly, Potter, is there a reason why you can never bugger me in the bloody bed?"
[Coming Next: Chapter Ten, in which Harry discovers detention in 1926 is quite different than what he is used to.]
Continue to Chapter Ten