Fic: Manorexic, Harry/Draco, NC-17
Title: Manorexic
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,974
Summary: The Malfoys have always been very clear as to what they hold in high regard, such as wealth and blood purity, but as Pansy and Blaise found out in July of last year, there are some things that Lucius and Narcissa drilled into Draco's head from the time he was a little boy that left deeper impressions than even a Dark Mark.
Warnings: Eating Disorder
ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title of this fiction is an ambiguous word. No offense is meant by its use.
Manorexic
Chapter Eighteen
March was not kind to the residents of Hogwarts.
Draco slipped Harry’s jumper over his head and wrapped his arms around himself. He was looking forward to seeing him in a few minutes. Recently he’d learned that Harry Potter was not only very adept at saving people and having amazing sex, but he was also incredibly warm and cuddly.
Pansy was sitting on a couch in the Slytherin common room when Draco left his dorm. She was talking to Blaise animatedly, waving her right arm as though casting a spell. Draco walked over and determinedly did not look at Blaise. They hadn’t spoken in several weeks, and he was not going to be the one to give in.
“Oh, Draco!” Pansy sprung up from the couch, smiling delightedly when she noticed him. “I’ll be back in a moment, Blaise.” She dragged Draco by the arm over to a secluded corner of the room. Draco felt Blaise glaring. “Are you going now?”
“Yeah. He said he’d be outside the common room at eleven.”
“With that annoying Cloak of his?” Draco nodded. “This is so scandalous,” she laughed. “Where are you two going?”
“I don’t know.” That was a lie. “Hopefully somewhere warm.”
Pansy nodded absently and looked down at his jumper. And then, very suddenly, her eyes narrowed.
“That’s that jumper you were wearing the other night. The one I didn’t recognize.” Draco felt himself blush. He nodded. “Where did you say you got it again?”
“I’ve had it,” he said. “I told you, I use it as pajama-”
“That’s Potter’s, isn’t it?” she whispered excitedly.
“Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous!”
But he could see Pansy wasn’t to be swayed. Bloody great time for her to suddenly become observant, he thought sourly.
“Oh, quit fibbing. I can’t believe he gave you his jumper! How adorable!”
“Pansy,” Draco drawled, and he hoped she didn’t notice the permanent blush on his cheeks, “it is not adorable-”
“Why did he give it to you?” she asked, apparently unaware that he’d said anything. “Just because you were cold? But it was a while ago. And why haven’t you worn it since then? Or . . .” She stopped, looking simultaneously suspicious and like she knew something.
“What . . . ?”
Suddenly her eyes went wide and she gasped.
“Draco!”
“What?!”
“Draco!” Pansy looked thrilled. “Did you . . . Draco, did you two . . . ?”
And now Draco’s eyes flew open, mortified. How had she known? Was it written on his forehead?
I HAD SEX WITH HARRY POTTER THIS AFTERNOON!!!!!!!!!!
“You did!” she practically shrieked. Draco instinctively looked around the common room to make sure no one was listening and instantly regretted it. This seemed to solidify Pansy’s suspicions. “Oh my God, when? After the game? Draco, tell me everything!”
“Will you shut up?” he hissed. Pansy went on smiling like a lunatic. “Just . . . I’ll tell you later, just stop cawing in the middle of the common room!”
Pansy was positively beaming.
“And stop smiling like that, people are looking!”
“Oh, Draco, I’m just so happy!” He saw her arms twitch as though she was going to hug him, but she stopped herself. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, go, go, don’t keep him waiting!”
She proceeded to shove him toward the door, stopping only to tell him she’d spell his hair red if he didn’t give her details later. He glared at her before stepping into the corridor.
He went from one ambush to another. Not a moment after the common room door had swung shut did Potter grab Draco’s wrist and pull him into a kiss. Only after they’d parted, however, did he have the presence of mind to wonder where the Cloak was.
“It’s in my pocket,” Potter explained, grinning like a boy who was very excited to do something very wrong. “I was hiding behind the door just now.”
“That’s weird, Potter,” Draco did not mind telling him. Potter went on smiling.
“Where did you want to go tonight?”
Draco realized he’d momentarily forgotten his plan, due mostly to Potter’s surprise attack, and now that he remembered he grinned. Potter saw this and laughed.
“Close your eyes.”
Potter’s smile faltered. “What?”
“Close your eyes! I wanna show you something.” When Potter continued to look suspicious, Draco sighed heavily. “I’m not going to attack you, will you just close your bloody eyes!”
“Tell me where we’re going first.”
“Potter,” Draco deadpanned. “That would defeat the purpose entirely. Do you really not trust me?”
Despite his cool exterior, the thought frightened Draco. He’d put so much trust into Potter. Did Potter not trust him? Was this a one-sided . . . whatever it was?
“I do,” Potter said suddenly. He looked slightly abashed. “I just have . . . some trust issues.”
Draco sighed. “Yes, and rightly so, I suppose.” He put a smile back on and grabbed the Cloak out of Potter’s pocket inside his robe. When his hand brushed Potter’s stomach he had to consciously stop his hand from shaking too much. “We’ll both get under this. You close your eyes and I’ll lead.”
Draco draped the Cloak over both of them and positioned himself in front of Potter, who wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and buried his face in his neck. Draco gasped softly.
“Stop it,” he said, trying to sound commanding. Potter’s chuckle told him he’d failed. “Potter, I’m serious. Can’t you at least . . . wait until we get there?” He felt one last kiss on his neck before the warmth of Potter’s breath disappeared.
“Lead the way.”
Draco led Potter down several unnecessary corridors just so that he wouldn’t guess where they were going. After all, Potter had explored the castle many times, he knew, and he seemed to know it like the back of his hand. Draco was satisfied when he heard Potter’s grunt of annoyance when they descended the staircase that led to the entrance hall.
“Something wrong?” he teased.
“Yeah. I have no idea where we are.”
Draco chuckled and whispered, “Keep your eyes closed when I take the Cloak off.”
He stuffed the slippery material back inside Potter’s robes and led him to the door of the Great Hall, opening it as silently as he could manage because he knew Potter would figure it out instantly if he could hear it.
The Great Hall was different at night. The House tables were gone, as was the Head Table, and there were no candles to create a glare and hinder the sight of the ceiling, which looked like anything but. One could see the stars perfectly. If the Great Hall appeared to have no ceiling during the day, it was nothing compared to the middle of the night.
Draco helped Potter onto the ground, where he curled up next to him, pulling one of his strong arms over his waist and tucking his head beneath Potter’s chin. Potter held him tightly and did not once open his eyes.
“You can open them now.”
Potter did, and when he caught sight of the sky above them, he gasped. Then he looked around, surely searching for snow, and it seemed to take him a second to understand. When he did, his eyes went wide.
“I never thought of this,” he whispered. “I mean, we all had to sleep in here third year, but I never . . .”
Draco smiled triumphantly and tugged on Harry's collar to pull him back down, as he’d lifted himself onto an elbow in order to see around himself better. When Harry lay back down, he kissed Draco’s nose and hugged him tightly.
“Me and Blaise used to do this sometimes,” Draco said. “When we were younger. We both hate the cold, but it’s fun to look at the stars. I always used to like finding my constellation.”
“Your constellation?” Potter’s eyebrows threaded together. Draco laughed.
“That’s why my name’s Draco. It’s a constellation. Merlin, Potter, didn’t you take Astronomy?”
“I didn’t pay attention!”
“Look.” He pointed at the ceiling-sky above them, able to quickly locate his constellation now after years of finding it almost every night. “The stars aren’t terribly bright, so it’s hard to find. Start with that one right there, see it? It’s sort of bright.” Potter shifted a bit, eyes squinted, trying to determine which of the millions of stars Draco was pointing to. “It’s near one that’s smaller, but also fairly bright. See them?”
After a few more moments Harry smiled. “Oh! Yeah, I see them!”
“They make a kind of trapezoid with two other stars. That’s the head. And then the star that marks the bottom left point starts the body.” He traced the long line that the stars made which formed the body of the constellation. “It goes straight down, then it goes up into an arch, and then back down. The stars are just a little brighter than the ones around them.”
They were silent for several minutes while Potter tried to work it out. Draco saw him go back to the original two stars many times and start over. Draco knew when he’d figured it out because he smiled.
“I see it. What is it supposed to be?”
“A dragon.”
Potter turned to look at him, an amused smile playing on his handsome face, and then he kissed Draco soundly.
“It’s a beautiful thing to be named after.”
“Thank you. Can I show you one more?”
He told Potter to find the brightest star in the sky. It took a few minutes, but eventually he pointed at the right one.
“It creates a dog with the stars around it,” he told him. “The constellation is called Canis Major. Do you know what the star is called?”
“What?”
Draco smiled sadly at him. “It’s called Sirius. It’s the brightest star in the sky. If it were the size of the sun it would be brighter.”
Potter stopped smiling instantly and looked back up at the sky. He stared at the bright star for many minutes. It took Draco by surprise when he said, “Do you believe in fate?”
Draco looked up at the sky as well, thinking about the question, half wondering what might have caused Potter to ask.
Of course, he had a good idea. But that didn’t mean it would be easy to answer. Especially because he didn’t think Potter would like what he had to say. The fact that he didn’t want to lie to him made him wonder what this stupid Gryffindor had done to him.
“Are you asking me,” he said quietly, “if I think Sirius Black, and your parents, and everyone who died in the war died for a greater reason?”
Potter was still looking up at the sky. Draco saw his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed.
“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Do you think that’s how it works?”
Draco sighed and laid his head down on Potter’s arm. When he spoke, he was staring at Potter’s chest. His scent washed over him.
“No, I don’t,” he said truthfully. When Potter gave no sign of either agreeing or disagreeing he continued. “I think people who say that are trying to mollify themselves. For me, I . . . I would love to say my parents died for a reason. That someone somewhere had already planned it, and that it was bound to happen no matter what. That maybe something good came out of it, or will come out of it. But I . . .” Draco stopped to gather his thoughts. Absently, he began running his fingers through the hair on Potter’s arm that was draped over his waist. “That just seems really far-fetched. It feels too much like something people would say to make it hurt less when they lose someone they love.”
“What do you mean?” Potter’s voice was quiet and rough.
“I mean . . . Pretend for a moment that fate is real. Unquestionably. And imagine that your parents, and Sirius, and everyone you loved that has ever died, died for a reason. That it was meant to happen and something better came out of it. That sounds wonderful as opposed to believing it didn’t have to happen. Knowing that it could have been stopped. That it was arbitrary. If you could, wouldn’t you like to believe there was a reason for it?”
“Yeah. . . .”
“Exactly.” Draco ran his hand through Potter’s hair, up the back of his head, forcing their eyes to meet. “Everyone would. So they do.” Potter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t think badly of me for not believing in it.”
“I don’t,” he said, and his eyes shot open. “I don’t know what I believe myself. The other day . . . The other day, with Anthony, he asked me if I believed in fate. He said that he thinks everything does happen for a reason. That it makes sense, because it’s more organized. And then we’re not just hovering in space for no reason.”
“Harry,” Draco said, and once more he forced Potter to look at him. “Even if there is no God, no higher power, and no greater reason for, I don’t know, human existence, that hardly means we’re hovering in space with no reason. The world isn’t black and white. It doesn’t have to be between our lives being entirely planned out or being meaningless.
“Personally, I don’t think there’s any higher power watching over us. But I’ve never considered my life to have no purpose.”
“That’s because you’re arrogant,” Harry teased, though there wasn’t much life behind it. Draco smiled softly.
“Do you know what I think?” he said quietly. He was glad it was dark because he knew he was blushing. “I think our existence on Earth was a complete chance, and even though there’s no cosmic reason for us to be here, I still think we should treat life like it’s something really special. I mean, in a way, the fact that there is no reason makes it a little more special, doesn’t it? Something went right, and here we are. We got lucky. I don’t know, I feel like, even though fate would make the bad things hurt less, it would also make the good things less incredible.” He leaned in and kissed Harry’s neck gently. “It makes this special. It’s not like it was going to happen either way. Our random existences intertwined.” Draco pulled away and smiled excitedly at Harry, who was grinning as well. “It’s kind of poetic. Maybe alone people don’t necessarily have a reason to be here, but other people give them a reason, and vice versa. During the war, my family was a reason to stay alive. I loved my parents and they loved me. That’s so much better than having everything planned out for you. Doing it for someone else.”
After that long, rather philosophical account, the only thing Harry said in response was:
“Do you know why Voldemort couldn’t kill me?”
For a moment, Draco could only stare. Finally he stuttered, “W-why?”
“My mum’s love protected me.” Harry pulled Draco tight against him and leaned down to kiss his neck. “I think you’re right,” he whispered. “I think love is a pretty fucking good reason.”
Draco allowed himself to be held and kissed. He stared across the Great Hall at the banners that shone in the moonlight streaming through the windows. The mane of the lion could almost be mistaken for Harry’s mess of hair. Next to it, the Ravenclaw eagle had its head turned toward the lion. At the other end, after Hufflepuff, Slytherin’s snake looked toward Gryffindor as well, but Draco got the feeling the lion only had eyes for the eagle.
Suddenly, Draco felt a hand crawl toward the waistline of his trousers and then creep inside.
“Potter . . .”
In the span of a second, Harry was on top of him, knees on either side of Draco’s hips. He leaned over and kissed him.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I wish we could just fall asleep.”
Draco blushed fiercely and turned away, only to be met once again with the sight of the House banners. He stared for a moment until he felt a breath on his ear.
“What are you thinking about?” Harry whispered.
“Do you think Gryffindor and Slytherin were placed deliberately?” He looked up at Harry, whose eyebrows had threaded.
“What?”
Draco nodded in the direction of the banners and Harry looked. His face fell into a soft frown when he realized what Draco had meant.
“Probably.”
“I don’t think the lion can see the snake. The eagle’s in the way.”
The look Harry gave Draco was something between guilt and pity. Harry bent down and ran his nose along the line of Draco’s jaw, stopping when he reached the soft skin behind his ear and kissing it.
“Anthony isn’t keeping me from helping you.”
Draco thought Harry had evaded the real meaning of the metaphor quite well, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, it hurt a bit more, knowing that Harry knew what he’d meant, and had deliberately avoided answering. Draco wondered whether Harry knew how deep his feelings had become. He’d never been all that observant, as far as Draco knew. But the way he’d so smoothly sidestepped the real issue just now said something entirely different.
Harry had begun kissing down the side of Draco’s neck, and while it certainly felt incredible and was undeniably arousing, it made him uncomfortable.
“Is this still all right with you?” he asked timidly. Harry pulled his face away and looked down at Draco.
“What? This?”
“Yes. I just . . . you have a boyfriend-”
“I told you before it didn’t matter, Draco.”
Draco flushed. “Would you please stop using my name?”
Harry sighed loudly and rolled off of Draco, onto his back. Draco curled up on his side and looked at him. Harry stared at the ceiling for a few moments before returning the gesture.
“I don’t understand why you hate that so much.”
“It just feels too intimate.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose beneath his messy hairline.
“And what we did earlier today wasn’t intimate?”
“It’s different, all right?” Draco sat up and wrapped his arms around himself.
“I’ve never met someone as hard to understand as you,” said Harry. “You’re almost as bad as a girl.” Draco bristled. Before he could say anything, though, Harry must have realized what he’d implied, because he sat up as well and cupped Draco’s cheek. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Draco looked away and remained silent. He was unprepared to have Harry grab his arm and pull him to the ground on top of him. “You know, I kind of like that you’re a little feminine,” Harry said, and it was a bit husky. Draco felt his cock twitch.
“Anthony’s not feminine.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Harry growled, “will you stop bringing up Anthony? He has nothing to do with this.”
Well, he was certainly a typical boy, then, if he didn’t realize what his boyfriend had to do with this.
“Father always said it made me look weak.”
Draco couldn’t tell whether he was getting scared or turned on by the fury on Harry’s face. Probably a bit of both, he reasoned.
“Your father said a lot of things.”
“My father-!”
“Draco, stop,” Harry said, and covered Draco's mouth with his hand. The anger was gone from his face. “We haven’t fought in weeks now. I know it’s probably inevitable with us, but let’s make it last a bit longer, yeah? Besides, I really want to kiss you.”
Draco laughed in spite of himself. “If I ever get my hands on a time-turner I’m going to go back to sixth year and tell you that in two years you’re going to say that to me.”
“I’d probably hex your face off, and then find your sixth year-self and hex his face off.”
“No need for that. You’d be slicing him open before the end of the year.”
Harry’s smile dropped entirely. Draco had meant that as a joke-he didn’t hold the Sectumsempra incident against Harry. At least, not much. He didn’t have any scarring, so really, it wasn’t a big deal. Besides, he’d been about to Crucio him, so he supposed it was only fair.
Harry, however, apparently had different thoughts on the subject.
He pushed Draco off and sat up.
“Potter, I was kidding,” Draco said softly, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “No need to be such a martyr.”
Harry shot Draco a scathing look. “I nearly killed you, Draco.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I almost tortured you.”
“It doesn’t.”
Draco sighed loudly and pushed a hand through Harry’s hair, fluffing his fringe, and then leaned forward to kiss him.
“Let’s not play who-hurt-whom-more.”
Harry nuzzled his ear and whispered, “What do you propose we do instead?”
Draco swallowed, feeling his cock already beginning to swell with blood, and reached down none-too-subtly to squeeze Harry’s hard length. It still served to make him breathless, knowing that he was touching Harry Potter’s goddamn erection; one that he was the cause for.
Harry wasted no time in laying Draco on his back and covering him with his own body. Draco closed his eyes and released a breath, allowing himself for the moment to bask in the enormity of how right he felt beneath Harry. Any conclusions that could be drawn from this fact were temporarily ignored as Harry began to mouth his neck.
“It’s so typical of you, Potter,” Draco said breathlessly, gasping when a particularly harsh bite was administered to his pulse point, “to get off on being in charge.”
Harry laughed and kissed Draco’s ear.
“What about you? What kinds of kinks does Draco Malfoy have?”
And one immediately came to mind. It was hopelessly archetypal in this situation, especially after he’d just accused Potter of liking to be in control. Draco stalled, not sure he felt comfortable admitting to Harry this very telling kink of his. Draco knew what lengths it spoke about him as a person, knew how it screamed that he liked to be taken care of. And wasn’t that precisely what he’d been fighting for years now? Dependency?
But then . . . wasn’t that what Harry had gradually been pulling him back to?
“You’re thinking about it,” Harry whispered. “Tell me.”
When Harry dragged his cock along the outline of Draco’s he gasped and gave in, because how good would it be to have Harry call him . . .
“Baby,” he whispered, cheeks flaming. Harry pulled back to look at him with an expression that said did you say what I think you just said? “I like it when . . . when someone calls me baby.”
Harry grinned predatorily and renewed his nuzzling of Draco’s neck with all the more fervor.
“Does that mean you get off on being dominated?” Harry’s voice was teasing but loving. It made Draco feel hot all over. His breathing was ragged as Harry dragged his trousers down his legs and threw them to the side, leaving him in his pants and Harry’s own jumper. “You act like such a prick in school. No one would ever guess you’d like having Harry Potter call you baby.”
“Potter . . .”
Harry grabbed his cock and squeezed, making Draco’s eyes feel like they were bulging out of his head.
“What is it, baby?”
Draco could have screamed and melted and caught on fire and exploded all at the same time. Even if he’d spent years imagining it, he didn’t think he could have ever prepared himself for how delicious it sounded having Potter say those words.
Indeed, he didn’t think anything could have prepared him for how perfect he would feel beneath Harry Potter; having Harry holding him and touching him and focusing solely on him.
Nothing mattered. It was only the two of them and the stars and it was perfect.
“Touch me,” he said. “Please.”
And what a statement that was: Draco Malfoy begging Harry Potter for something. He was sure Harry noticed because his eyes lit up.
“You have to do something for me, though,” he whispered. Draco tried arching up into him but Harry made sure to stay separated by at least a few millimeters. “Call me Harry. I want to hear you say my name, baby.”
Draco released a high-pitched whine and wrapped his arms and legs around Harry, pulling him closer. At this point, he would have done anything.
“Touch me, Harry.”
Harry grunted, an animalistic “fuck” that had Draco biting his lip harshly, and within seconds his hand was wrapped around Draco’s cock.
Harry looked intent as he watched Draco’s face screw up with pleasure. Draco thought vaguely that he continued to look as fascinated now as he’d had the first time.
“Wait,” Draco breathed. He reached down and tried to still Harry’s hand. “Harry, wait.”
Harry shot him a bewildered look but Draco ignored it. He unzipped Harry’s trousers with shaking hands and pulled his dick out rather tentatively. Harry felt his legs becoming unsteady and dropped forward so his hands were on either side of Draco’s head. He was glad he did this a moment later, because Draco arched up and wrapped his hand around both of their erections.
Draco moved his hand slowly, whether intentionally or because he was nervous he couldn’t tell for himself. Either way, it seemed to become unbearable for Harry after a few minutes, and with a low growl he reached down and covered Draco’s hand and forced him to go faster.
“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” Harry whispered, sounding as though he’d just barely managed to keep a tremor out of his voice. Draco whined and arched up again. “Come on, Draco. Come for me.”
With his free hand Draco pulled Harry down into a kiss, muffling his own shout of release. Their mouths stayed glued throughout the duration of his orgasm, and when he finally broke away from Harry he fell to the ground with a contented sigh. Harry buried his face in Draco’s sweaty neck and pumped himself until he, too, reached his climax and spilled all over Draco’s stomach.
When he’d apparently come to his senses Harry spelled them clean and cuddled Draco against his chest; just as though they were lovers, as though they’d done this a thousand times and it was completely normal.
“Your skin glows in the moonlight,” he said suddenly. Draco felt his breath on his hair. It gave him goose bumps.
* * *
Hermione chewed her lip nervously, watching as Ron paced the floor in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room.
“Will you sit down?” she pleaded. He shot her a glare.
“How can you be so calm about this? He’s probably with Malfoy, Hermione.”
Hermione sighed. “I know that, Ron. I’m sure he is. But that’s no reason to get yourself worked up. Is that the only reason you wanted to talk? To tell me that?”
“No!” he practically shouted. She shushed him, gesturing angrily toward the stairs that led to the dorms where younger students were sleeping. “How long is this gonna go on?”
“I don’t know.” Hermione nervously patted down her nightgown. “I don’t know what’s going on with the two of them, so I can’t very well say how long Harry is going to keep this up.”
Ron’s face lost a bit of color. “You don’t think they’re . . . ? He said . . .”
She shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I would like to say Harry would never do that, especially to someone as kind as Anthony, but I just don’t know anymore, Ron. He’s been very shady lately. I’ve spoken to Anthony a few times about him and he says that he’s been more withdrawn and a little on edge.”
“Does Anthony suspect anything?”
“Course he does. In fact, I think he’s certain something is going on. But I think he’s also clinging to the hope that he’s wrong.”
Ron finally huffed and slumped down in a chair, looking down-trodden and miserable.
Hermione’s heart clenched. “Regardless of what’s happening, Harry will come around eventually. We need to let him work things out on his own, though. You know how he is, Ron. Harry’s stubborn and hot-headed and hates telling us anything. But he loves us. He’s proven that countless times, and you know it. He’ll come back, and I’ll be willing to listen and talk to him, and I know you will, too. I just hope he doesn’t mess things up too badly before he decides to do that.”
“I hate this,” Ron grumbled. Hermione smiled and went to sit on the edge of his chair, running a hand through his hair.
“I know, but I think letting him realize he needs us is the best thing to do. It’s how he works. He’ll just get angry if we try to talk to him. And anyway, even if we did, he’d still be keeping his meetings with Malfoy a secret and it would only get on our nerves.”
“When you’re right you’re right,” Ron sighed.
Hermione laughed. “Let’s get to bed. I have an Ancient Runes exam tomorrow.”
Ron took her hand and stood up. She allowed him to kiss her on the cheek before he headed upstairs back to his Harry-less dorm. Hermione glanced over at the portrait one more time, hoping vainly that Harry would walk through. He didn’t, though, and she returned to her own dorm with a heavy heart indeed.
Chapter Seventeen | Page of Contents | Chapter Nineteen
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,974
Summary: The Malfoys have always been very clear as to what they hold in high regard, such as wealth and blood purity, but as Pansy and Blaise found out in July of last year, there are some things that Lucius and Narcissa drilled into Draco's head from the time he was a little boy that left deeper impressions than even a Dark Mark.
Warnings: Eating Disorder
ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title of this fiction is an ambiguous word. No offense is meant by its use.
Manorexic
Chapter Eighteen
March was not kind to the residents of Hogwarts.
Draco slipped Harry’s jumper over his head and wrapped his arms around himself. He was looking forward to seeing him in a few minutes. Recently he’d learned that Harry Potter was not only very adept at saving people and having amazing sex, but he was also incredibly warm and cuddly.
Pansy was sitting on a couch in the Slytherin common room when Draco left his dorm. She was talking to Blaise animatedly, waving her right arm as though casting a spell. Draco walked over and determinedly did not look at Blaise. They hadn’t spoken in several weeks, and he was not going to be the one to give in.
“Oh, Draco!” Pansy sprung up from the couch, smiling delightedly when she noticed him. “I’ll be back in a moment, Blaise.” She dragged Draco by the arm over to a secluded corner of the room. Draco felt Blaise glaring. “Are you going now?”
“Yeah. He said he’d be outside the common room at eleven.”
“With that annoying Cloak of his?” Draco nodded. “This is so scandalous,” she laughed. “Where are you two going?”
“I don’t know.” That was a lie. “Hopefully somewhere warm.”
Pansy nodded absently and looked down at his jumper. And then, very suddenly, her eyes narrowed.
“That’s that jumper you were wearing the other night. The one I didn’t recognize.” Draco felt himself blush. He nodded. “Where did you say you got it again?”
“I’ve had it,” he said. “I told you, I use it as pajama-”
“That’s Potter’s, isn’t it?” she whispered excitedly.
“Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous!”
But he could see Pansy wasn’t to be swayed. Bloody great time for her to suddenly become observant, he thought sourly.
“Oh, quit fibbing. I can’t believe he gave you his jumper! How adorable!”
“Pansy,” Draco drawled, and he hoped she didn’t notice the permanent blush on his cheeks, “it is not adorable-”
“Why did he give it to you?” she asked, apparently unaware that he’d said anything. “Just because you were cold? But it was a while ago. And why haven’t you worn it since then? Or . . .” She stopped, looking simultaneously suspicious and like she knew something.
“What . . . ?”
Suddenly her eyes went wide and she gasped.
“Draco!”
“What?!”
“Draco!” Pansy looked thrilled. “Did you . . . Draco, did you two . . . ?”
And now Draco’s eyes flew open, mortified. How had she known? Was it written on his forehead?
I HAD SEX WITH HARRY POTTER THIS AFTERNOON!!!!!!!!!!
“You did!” she practically shrieked. Draco instinctively looked around the common room to make sure no one was listening and instantly regretted it. This seemed to solidify Pansy’s suspicions. “Oh my God, when? After the game? Draco, tell me everything!”
“Will you shut up?” he hissed. Pansy went on smiling like a lunatic. “Just . . . I’ll tell you later, just stop cawing in the middle of the common room!”
Pansy was positively beaming.
“And stop smiling like that, people are looking!”
“Oh, Draco, I’m just so happy!” He saw her arms twitch as though she was going to hug him, but she stopped herself. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, go, go, don’t keep him waiting!”
She proceeded to shove him toward the door, stopping only to tell him she’d spell his hair red if he didn’t give her details later. He glared at her before stepping into the corridor.
He went from one ambush to another. Not a moment after the common room door had swung shut did Potter grab Draco’s wrist and pull him into a kiss. Only after they’d parted, however, did he have the presence of mind to wonder where the Cloak was.
“It’s in my pocket,” Potter explained, grinning like a boy who was very excited to do something very wrong. “I was hiding behind the door just now.”
“That’s weird, Potter,” Draco did not mind telling him. Potter went on smiling.
“Where did you want to go tonight?”
Draco realized he’d momentarily forgotten his plan, due mostly to Potter’s surprise attack, and now that he remembered he grinned. Potter saw this and laughed.
“Close your eyes.”
Potter’s smile faltered. “What?”
“Close your eyes! I wanna show you something.” When Potter continued to look suspicious, Draco sighed heavily. “I’m not going to attack you, will you just close your bloody eyes!”
“Tell me where we’re going first.”
“Potter,” Draco deadpanned. “That would defeat the purpose entirely. Do you really not trust me?”
Despite his cool exterior, the thought frightened Draco. He’d put so much trust into Potter. Did Potter not trust him? Was this a one-sided . . . whatever it was?
“I do,” Potter said suddenly. He looked slightly abashed. “I just have . . . some trust issues.”
Draco sighed. “Yes, and rightly so, I suppose.” He put a smile back on and grabbed the Cloak out of Potter’s pocket inside his robe. When his hand brushed Potter’s stomach he had to consciously stop his hand from shaking too much. “We’ll both get under this. You close your eyes and I’ll lead.”
Draco draped the Cloak over both of them and positioned himself in front of Potter, who wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and buried his face in his neck. Draco gasped softly.
“Stop it,” he said, trying to sound commanding. Potter’s chuckle told him he’d failed. “Potter, I’m serious. Can’t you at least . . . wait until we get there?” He felt one last kiss on his neck before the warmth of Potter’s breath disappeared.
“Lead the way.”
Draco led Potter down several unnecessary corridors just so that he wouldn’t guess where they were going. After all, Potter had explored the castle many times, he knew, and he seemed to know it like the back of his hand. Draco was satisfied when he heard Potter’s grunt of annoyance when they descended the staircase that led to the entrance hall.
“Something wrong?” he teased.
“Yeah. I have no idea where we are.”
Draco chuckled and whispered, “Keep your eyes closed when I take the Cloak off.”
He stuffed the slippery material back inside Potter’s robes and led him to the door of the Great Hall, opening it as silently as he could manage because he knew Potter would figure it out instantly if he could hear it.
The Great Hall was different at night. The House tables were gone, as was the Head Table, and there were no candles to create a glare and hinder the sight of the ceiling, which looked like anything but. One could see the stars perfectly. If the Great Hall appeared to have no ceiling during the day, it was nothing compared to the middle of the night.
Draco helped Potter onto the ground, where he curled up next to him, pulling one of his strong arms over his waist and tucking his head beneath Potter’s chin. Potter held him tightly and did not once open his eyes.
“You can open them now.”
Potter did, and when he caught sight of the sky above them, he gasped. Then he looked around, surely searching for snow, and it seemed to take him a second to understand. When he did, his eyes went wide.
“I never thought of this,” he whispered. “I mean, we all had to sleep in here third year, but I never . . .”
Draco smiled triumphantly and tugged on Harry's collar to pull him back down, as he’d lifted himself onto an elbow in order to see around himself better. When Harry lay back down, he kissed Draco’s nose and hugged him tightly.
“Me and Blaise used to do this sometimes,” Draco said. “When we were younger. We both hate the cold, but it’s fun to look at the stars. I always used to like finding my constellation.”
“Your constellation?” Potter’s eyebrows threaded together. Draco laughed.
“That’s why my name’s Draco. It’s a constellation. Merlin, Potter, didn’t you take Astronomy?”
“I didn’t pay attention!”
“Look.” He pointed at the ceiling-sky above them, able to quickly locate his constellation now after years of finding it almost every night. “The stars aren’t terribly bright, so it’s hard to find. Start with that one right there, see it? It’s sort of bright.” Potter shifted a bit, eyes squinted, trying to determine which of the millions of stars Draco was pointing to. “It’s near one that’s smaller, but also fairly bright. See them?”
After a few more moments Harry smiled. “Oh! Yeah, I see them!”
“They make a kind of trapezoid with two other stars. That’s the head. And then the star that marks the bottom left point starts the body.” He traced the long line that the stars made which formed the body of the constellation. “It goes straight down, then it goes up into an arch, and then back down. The stars are just a little brighter than the ones around them.”
They were silent for several minutes while Potter tried to work it out. Draco saw him go back to the original two stars many times and start over. Draco knew when he’d figured it out because he smiled.
“I see it. What is it supposed to be?”
“A dragon.”
Potter turned to look at him, an amused smile playing on his handsome face, and then he kissed Draco soundly.
“It’s a beautiful thing to be named after.”
“Thank you. Can I show you one more?”
He told Potter to find the brightest star in the sky. It took a few minutes, but eventually he pointed at the right one.
“It creates a dog with the stars around it,” he told him. “The constellation is called Canis Major. Do you know what the star is called?”
“What?”
Draco smiled sadly at him. “It’s called Sirius. It’s the brightest star in the sky. If it were the size of the sun it would be brighter.”
Potter stopped smiling instantly and looked back up at the sky. He stared at the bright star for many minutes. It took Draco by surprise when he said, “Do you believe in fate?”
Draco looked up at the sky as well, thinking about the question, half wondering what might have caused Potter to ask.
Of course, he had a good idea. But that didn’t mean it would be easy to answer. Especially because he didn’t think Potter would like what he had to say. The fact that he didn’t want to lie to him made him wonder what this stupid Gryffindor had done to him.
“Are you asking me,” he said quietly, “if I think Sirius Black, and your parents, and everyone who died in the war died for a greater reason?”
Potter was still looking up at the sky. Draco saw his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed.
“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Do you think that’s how it works?”
Draco sighed and laid his head down on Potter’s arm. When he spoke, he was staring at Potter’s chest. His scent washed over him.
“No, I don’t,” he said truthfully. When Potter gave no sign of either agreeing or disagreeing he continued. “I think people who say that are trying to mollify themselves. For me, I . . . I would love to say my parents died for a reason. That someone somewhere had already planned it, and that it was bound to happen no matter what. That maybe something good came out of it, or will come out of it. But I . . .” Draco stopped to gather his thoughts. Absently, he began running his fingers through the hair on Potter’s arm that was draped over his waist. “That just seems really far-fetched. It feels too much like something people would say to make it hurt less when they lose someone they love.”
“What do you mean?” Potter’s voice was quiet and rough.
“I mean . . . Pretend for a moment that fate is real. Unquestionably. And imagine that your parents, and Sirius, and everyone you loved that has ever died, died for a reason. That it was meant to happen and something better came out of it. That sounds wonderful as opposed to believing it didn’t have to happen. Knowing that it could have been stopped. That it was arbitrary. If you could, wouldn’t you like to believe there was a reason for it?”
“Yeah. . . .”
“Exactly.” Draco ran his hand through Potter’s hair, up the back of his head, forcing their eyes to meet. “Everyone would. So they do.” Potter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I hope you don’t think badly of me for not believing in it.”
“I don’t,” he said, and his eyes shot open. “I don’t know what I believe myself. The other day . . . The other day, with Anthony, he asked me if I believed in fate. He said that he thinks everything does happen for a reason. That it makes sense, because it’s more organized. And then we’re not just hovering in space for no reason.”
“Harry,” Draco said, and once more he forced Potter to look at him. “Even if there is no God, no higher power, and no greater reason for, I don’t know, human existence, that hardly means we’re hovering in space with no reason. The world isn’t black and white. It doesn’t have to be between our lives being entirely planned out or being meaningless.
“Personally, I don’t think there’s any higher power watching over us. But I’ve never considered my life to have no purpose.”
“That’s because you’re arrogant,” Harry teased, though there wasn’t much life behind it. Draco smiled softly.
“Do you know what I think?” he said quietly. He was glad it was dark because he knew he was blushing. “I think our existence on Earth was a complete chance, and even though there’s no cosmic reason for us to be here, I still think we should treat life like it’s something really special. I mean, in a way, the fact that there is no reason makes it a little more special, doesn’t it? Something went right, and here we are. We got lucky. I don’t know, I feel like, even though fate would make the bad things hurt less, it would also make the good things less incredible.” He leaned in and kissed Harry’s neck gently. “It makes this special. It’s not like it was going to happen either way. Our random existences intertwined.” Draco pulled away and smiled excitedly at Harry, who was grinning as well. “It’s kind of poetic. Maybe alone people don’t necessarily have a reason to be here, but other people give them a reason, and vice versa. During the war, my family was a reason to stay alive. I loved my parents and they loved me. That’s so much better than having everything planned out for you. Doing it for someone else.”
After that long, rather philosophical account, the only thing Harry said in response was:
“Do you know why Voldemort couldn’t kill me?”
For a moment, Draco could only stare. Finally he stuttered, “W-why?”
“My mum’s love protected me.” Harry pulled Draco tight against him and leaned down to kiss his neck. “I think you’re right,” he whispered. “I think love is a pretty fucking good reason.”
Draco allowed himself to be held and kissed. He stared across the Great Hall at the banners that shone in the moonlight streaming through the windows. The mane of the lion could almost be mistaken for Harry’s mess of hair. Next to it, the Ravenclaw eagle had its head turned toward the lion. At the other end, after Hufflepuff, Slytherin’s snake looked toward Gryffindor as well, but Draco got the feeling the lion only had eyes for the eagle.
Suddenly, Draco felt a hand crawl toward the waistline of his trousers and then creep inside.
“Potter . . .”
In the span of a second, Harry was on top of him, knees on either side of Draco’s hips. He leaned over and kissed him.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I wish we could just fall asleep.”
Draco blushed fiercely and turned away, only to be met once again with the sight of the House banners. He stared for a moment until he felt a breath on his ear.
“What are you thinking about?” Harry whispered.
“Do you think Gryffindor and Slytherin were placed deliberately?” He looked up at Harry, whose eyebrows had threaded.
“What?”
Draco nodded in the direction of the banners and Harry looked. His face fell into a soft frown when he realized what Draco had meant.
“Probably.”
“I don’t think the lion can see the snake. The eagle’s in the way.”
The look Harry gave Draco was something between guilt and pity. Harry bent down and ran his nose along the line of Draco’s jaw, stopping when he reached the soft skin behind his ear and kissing it.
“Anthony isn’t keeping me from helping you.”
Draco thought Harry had evaded the real meaning of the metaphor quite well, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, it hurt a bit more, knowing that Harry knew what he’d meant, and had deliberately avoided answering. Draco wondered whether Harry knew how deep his feelings had become. He’d never been all that observant, as far as Draco knew. But the way he’d so smoothly sidestepped the real issue just now said something entirely different.
Harry had begun kissing down the side of Draco’s neck, and while it certainly felt incredible and was undeniably arousing, it made him uncomfortable.
“Is this still all right with you?” he asked timidly. Harry pulled his face away and looked down at Draco.
“What? This?”
“Yes. I just . . . you have a boyfriend-”
“I told you before it didn’t matter, Draco.”
Draco flushed. “Would you please stop using my name?”
Harry sighed loudly and rolled off of Draco, onto his back. Draco curled up on his side and looked at him. Harry stared at the ceiling for a few moments before returning the gesture.
“I don’t understand why you hate that so much.”
“It just feels too intimate.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose beneath his messy hairline.
“And what we did earlier today wasn’t intimate?”
“It’s different, all right?” Draco sat up and wrapped his arms around himself.
“I’ve never met someone as hard to understand as you,” said Harry. “You’re almost as bad as a girl.” Draco bristled. Before he could say anything, though, Harry must have realized what he’d implied, because he sat up as well and cupped Draco’s cheek. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Draco looked away and remained silent. He was unprepared to have Harry grab his arm and pull him to the ground on top of him. “You know, I kind of like that you’re a little feminine,” Harry said, and it was a bit husky. Draco felt his cock twitch.
“Anthony’s not feminine.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Harry growled, “will you stop bringing up Anthony? He has nothing to do with this.”
Well, he was certainly a typical boy, then, if he didn’t realize what his boyfriend had to do with this.
“Father always said it made me look weak.”
Draco couldn’t tell whether he was getting scared or turned on by the fury on Harry’s face. Probably a bit of both, he reasoned.
“Your father said a lot of things.”
“My father-!”
“Draco, stop,” Harry said, and covered Draco's mouth with his hand. The anger was gone from his face. “We haven’t fought in weeks now. I know it’s probably inevitable with us, but let’s make it last a bit longer, yeah? Besides, I really want to kiss you.”
Draco laughed in spite of himself. “If I ever get my hands on a time-turner I’m going to go back to sixth year and tell you that in two years you’re going to say that to me.”
“I’d probably hex your face off, and then find your sixth year-self and hex his face off.”
“No need for that. You’d be slicing him open before the end of the year.”
Harry’s smile dropped entirely. Draco had meant that as a joke-he didn’t hold the Sectumsempra incident against Harry. At least, not much. He didn’t have any scarring, so really, it wasn’t a big deal. Besides, he’d been about to Crucio him, so he supposed it was only fair.
Harry, however, apparently had different thoughts on the subject.
He pushed Draco off and sat up.
“Potter, I was kidding,” Draco said softly, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “No need to be such a martyr.”
Harry shot Draco a scathing look. “I nearly killed you, Draco.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I almost tortured you.”
“It doesn’t.”
Draco sighed loudly and pushed a hand through Harry’s hair, fluffing his fringe, and then leaned forward to kiss him.
“Let’s not play who-hurt-whom-more.”
Harry nuzzled his ear and whispered, “What do you propose we do instead?”
Draco swallowed, feeling his cock already beginning to swell with blood, and reached down none-too-subtly to squeeze Harry’s hard length. It still served to make him breathless, knowing that he was touching Harry Potter’s goddamn erection; one that he was the cause for.
Harry wasted no time in laying Draco on his back and covering him with his own body. Draco closed his eyes and released a breath, allowing himself for the moment to bask in the enormity of how right he felt beneath Harry. Any conclusions that could be drawn from this fact were temporarily ignored as Harry began to mouth his neck.
“It’s so typical of you, Potter,” Draco said breathlessly, gasping when a particularly harsh bite was administered to his pulse point, “to get off on being in charge.”
Harry laughed and kissed Draco’s ear.
“What about you? What kinds of kinks does Draco Malfoy have?”
And one immediately came to mind. It was hopelessly archetypal in this situation, especially after he’d just accused Potter of liking to be in control. Draco stalled, not sure he felt comfortable admitting to Harry this very telling kink of his. Draco knew what lengths it spoke about him as a person, knew how it screamed that he liked to be taken care of. And wasn’t that precisely what he’d been fighting for years now? Dependency?
But then . . . wasn’t that what Harry had gradually been pulling him back to?
“You’re thinking about it,” Harry whispered. “Tell me.”
When Harry dragged his cock along the outline of Draco’s he gasped and gave in, because how good would it be to have Harry call him . . .
“Baby,” he whispered, cheeks flaming. Harry pulled back to look at him with an expression that said did you say what I think you just said? “I like it when . . . when someone calls me baby.”
Harry grinned predatorily and renewed his nuzzling of Draco’s neck with all the more fervor.
“Does that mean you get off on being dominated?” Harry’s voice was teasing but loving. It made Draco feel hot all over. His breathing was ragged as Harry dragged his trousers down his legs and threw them to the side, leaving him in his pants and Harry’s own jumper. “You act like such a prick in school. No one would ever guess you’d like having Harry Potter call you baby.”
“Potter . . .”
Harry grabbed his cock and squeezed, making Draco’s eyes feel like they were bulging out of his head.
“What is it, baby?”
Draco could have screamed and melted and caught on fire and exploded all at the same time. Even if he’d spent years imagining it, he didn’t think he could have ever prepared himself for how delicious it sounded having Potter say those words.
Indeed, he didn’t think anything could have prepared him for how perfect he would feel beneath Harry Potter; having Harry holding him and touching him and focusing solely on him.
Nothing mattered. It was only the two of them and the stars and it was perfect.
“Touch me,” he said. “Please.”
And what a statement that was: Draco Malfoy begging Harry Potter for something. He was sure Harry noticed because his eyes lit up.
“You have to do something for me, though,” he whispered. Draco tried arching up into him but Harry made sure to stay separated by at least a few millimeters. “Call me Harry. I want to hear you say my name, baby.”
Draco released a high-pitched whine and wrapped his arms and legs around Harry, pulling him closer. At this point, he would have done anything.
“Touch me, Harry.”
Harry grunted, an animalistic “fuck” that had Draco biting his lip harshly, and within seconds his hand was wrapped around Draco’s cock.
Harry looked intent as he watched Draco’s face screw up with pleasure. Draco thought vaguely that he continued to look as fascinated now as he’d had the first time.
“Wait,” Draco breathed. He reached down and tried to still Harry’s hand. “Harry, wait.”
Harry shot him a bewildered look but Draco ignored it. He unzipped Harry’s trousers with shaking hands and pulled his dick out rather tentatively. Harry felt his legs becoming unsteady and dropped forward so his hands were on either side of Draco’s head. He was glad he did this a moment later, because Draco arched up and wrapped his hand around both of their erections.
Draco moved his hand slowly, whether intentionally or because he was nervous he couldn’t tell for himself. Either way, it seemed to become unbearable for Harry after a few minutes, and with a low growl he reached down and covered Draco’s hand and forced him to go faster.
“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” Harry whispered, sounding as though he’d just barely managed to keep a tremor out of his voice. Draco whined and arched up again. “Come on, Draco. Come for me.”
With his free hand Draco pulled Harry down into a kiss, muffling his own shout of release. Their mouths stayed glued throughout the duration of his orgasm, and when he finally broke away from Harry he fell to the ground with a contented sigh. Harry buried his face in Draco’s sweaty neck and pumped himself until he, too, reached his climax and spilled all over Draco’s stomach.
When he’d apparently come to his senses Harry spelled them clean and cuddled Draco against his chest; just as though they were lovers, as though they’d done this a thousand times and it was completely normal.
“Your skin glows in the moonlight,” he said suddenly. Draco felt his breath on his hair. It gave him goose bumps.
* * *
Hermione chewed her lip nervously, watching as Ron paced the floor in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room.
“Will you sit down?” she pleaded. He shot her a glare.
“How can you be so calm about this? He’s probably with Malfoy, Hermione.”
Hermione sighed. “I know that, Ron. I’m sure he is. But that’s no reason to get yourself worked up. Is that the only reason you wanted to talk? To tell me that?”
“No!” he practically shouted. She shushed him, gesturing angrily toward the stairs that led to the dorms where younger students were sleeping. “How long is this gonna go on?”
“I don’t know.” Hermione nervously patted down her nightgown. “I don’t know what’s going on with the two of them, so I can’t very well say how long Harry is going to keep this up.”
Ron’s face lost a bit of color. “You don’t think they’re . . . ? He said . . .”
She shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I would like to say Harry would never do that, especially to someone as kind as Anthony, but I just don’t know anymore, Ron. He’s been very shady lately. I’ve spoken to Anthony a few times about him and he says that he’s been more withdrawn and a little on edge.”
“Does Anthony suspect anything?”
“Course he does. In fact, I think he’s certain something is going on. But I think he’s also clinging to the hope that he’s wrong.”
Ron finally huffed and slumped down in a chair, looking down-trodden and miserable.
Hermione’s heart clenched. “Regardless of what’s happening, Harry will come around eventually. We need to let him work things out on his own, though. You know how he is, Ron. Harry’s stubborn and hot-headed and hates telling us anything. But he loves us. He’s proven that countless times, and you know it. He’ll come back, and I’ll be willing to listen and talk to him, and I know you will, too. I just hope he doesn’t mess things up too badly before he decides to do that.”
“I hate this,” Ron grumbled. Hermione smiled and went to sit on the edge of his chair, running a hand through his hair.
“I know, but I think letting him realize he needs us is the best thing to do. It’s how he works. He’ll just get angry if we try to talk to him. And anyway, even if we did, he’d still be keeping his meetings with Malfoy a secret and it would only get on our nerves.”
“When you’re right you’re right,” Ron sighed.
Hermione laughed. “Let’s get to bed. I have an Ancient Runes exam tomorrow.”
Ron took her hand and stood up. She allowed him to kiss her on the cheek before he headed upstairs back to his Harry-less dorm. Hermione glanced over at the portrait one more time, hoping vainly that Harry would walk through. He didn’t, though, and she returned to her own dorm with a heavy heart indeed.
Chapter Seventeen | Page of Contents | Chapter Nineteen