Starts With a Spin - Chapter 14, part 1
I really do apologize for the extremely long wait, everyone. I know I said at the end of the last chapter that it’d be awhile before the next installment, but I didn’t intend for it to take this long! Thanks so much to all the newer readers who were kind enough to leave me really nice comments and reviews! Sorry I didn’t reply to the majority of you, but I really do appreciate the feedback. Seriously, those of you who took the time to leave those long comments, thank you very, very much.
Thanks also to the fabulous miints and __goldie for beta-ing! Ladies, I couldn’t do it without you! I really, really couldn’t.
So I’ll just let you get on to chapter 14 now, eh? ^.~ It's a long one. Two parts, actually, so be sure to read all of it!
Title: Starts With a Spin
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Humor/Romance/Smut/Slash
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: H/D
Disclaimer: Harry Potter ain’t mine…if it were…well…Draco certainly wouldn’t be Harry’s enemy forever. ^.~
Summary: It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.
--> All chapters can be found here. <--
previous
~~Chapter 14~~
Monday morning found Draco sitting with Harry at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d ended up there actually, because he was pretty sure that it was Harry’s turn to sit with him at the Slytherin table. Then again, he also wasn’t sure why they were up so bloody early in the first place, and it would have been a bit pointless to sit at Slytherin because, frankly, none of his friends were even there yet. As it was, Hermione was the only one of Harry’s friends sitting with them, and she was busy reading over her Transfigurations notes and revising for the test they had later that day.
“Why the hell are we eating breakfast so early again?” Draco asked, or rather, whined petulantly as he prodded absently at his oatmeal. He was bent over the table, elbow propped on top of it and cheek resting on his hand.
“Because,” Harry said through gritted teeth as he struggled with a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans that Ron had brought him back from Hogsmeade. It was apparently refusing to open. “I asked you what time you wanted to meet up this morning, and this was the time you gave me. So I dragged myself out of bed and came down with Hermione. S’not my fault you don’t know what time breakfast runs ‘til after six years of being here.” Draco frowned, watching as Harry began pulling the bag in different directions, grunting slightly.
“I’m sure I didn’t suggest such an ungodly hour,” he said haughtily, chin lifting a bit. “You must have heard me wrong.”
“Yeah, of course, that must be what happened,” Harry muttered sarcastically. He gave a final tug at the jelly beans, and then tossed them onto the table and glared at them with his arms crossed.
“Are you sure you should be eating those for breakfast, Harry?” Hermione asked, not even looking up from her notes. Harry rolled his eyes, aware that Hermione wouldn’t notice, and began tearing at the bag again.
“I’m not eating them for breakfast,” he grunted, baring his teeth as he pulled. “I’m eating them with breakfast. Actually, I’m not even eating them at all because this bloody fucking bag won’t OPEN!”
“Harry!” Hermione scolded, glancing up at him this time. “Language!” Harry ignored her, tugging yet harder at the bag, and Draco chuckled.
“You look like you’re constipated, Potter,” he smirked.
“Thanks, Draco, I love you, too,” Harry muttered absently, arms falling to his sides as he dropped the jelly beans once more onto the table. Draco’s eyes widened slightly as Harry snagged a piece of bacon and obliviously stuffed it into his mouth, and then his eyes went wide as well and he sucked in a breath that instantly had him choking on the bacon. “Er- I…I-I m-m-mean-” he coughed, grabbing his drink and taking a few quick gulps from it. “I mean-…what I meant was-…that wasn’t what I meant,” he finished lamely, cheeks burning and eyes now concentrating fixatedly at his plate. Draco blinked, feeling his face heat up, and he looked somewhere in the opposite direction.
“I should hope not,” he said in a somewhat forced careless tone, glancing back at Harry. Harry’s gaze at his plate narrowed slightly as his face tightened, and Draco bit his lip. “I mean…ahh…hmmm.” There was an awkward moment of silence that Hermione somehow managed to ignore, and then Draco said quickly, “Pass the kippers, would you?”
“Yeah, sure,” Harry answered just as fast. He handed them over, and suddenly the moment was over and Harry went back to trying to open his Bertie Bott’s and Draco pushed more food around his plate. Across the table from them, Hermione sighed deeply and closed her notebook. “Finished?” Harry asked.
“No, I’ll have to look it over again during lunch,” Hermione replied, reaching across the table and grabbing a platter of toast. “I wasn’t exactly clear on some of the theory work in chapter eleven.” She began spreading marmalade across her toast.
“Oh, right,” Harry murmured inattentively. Hermione looked at him closely, and then sighed again and set down her knife.
“Harry, I’ve been meaning to ask you…well, I’ve been meaning to ask both you and Draco, actually.” Draco glanced up when he heard his name and gave the girl a bored ‘I’m-listening-but-I’m-definitely-not-interested’ sort of look. Hermione continued nervously, “I mean, we don’t really learn this sort of thing at Hogwarts and I’m sure the Dursleys didn’t tell you anything…and it’s not exactly the sort of thing you talk about with your friends, and I’m sure Mrs. Weasley will want to talk to you about it but she probably thinks she doesn’t have to yet. And I have no idea about Draco, but I thought I should just go ahead and make sure-”
“Hermione!” Harry interrupted, sharing a brief amused look with Draco. The other boy rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to his lips. “Just say whatever you’re trying to say, would you?”
Hermione nodded and took a deep breath, and just as Harry gave the bag a particularly hard tug, she blurted out, “I just want to make sure you and Draco are practicing safe sex.” Draco promptly choked on his drink and Harry jerked, finally ripping the bag open and sending tiny jelly beans flying through the air. They landed all over the table, some even splashing into the pumpkin juice pitchers in front of them while others rolled off the edge and fell onto the floor. Several bounced off Harry’s glasses, but he was too busy giving Hermione a bug-eyed look to notice.
“What was that?” he asked in a strangled tone as Draco coughed heavily from beside him. He absently hoped the boy could still breathe, but he was too frozen with shock to check. Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes, and composed herself.
“I want to make sure you and Draco are practicing safe sex,” she repeated in a much more controlled voice. “I’m not entirely sure what type of diseases you can contract in the wizarding world, but I know that as a sexually active homosexual in the muggle world you have to be very careful not to get HIV-”
“Gah! H-Hermione!!” Harry spluttered, hands gripping the edge of the table. He was still giving her that bug-eyed look. “You can’t just ask us that!”
“Yes I can, and I believe I just did,” Hermione retorted. “Now, I looked up some protective spells-”
“Hermione!”
“Harry,” Hermione threw back at him. “You’re going to listen to what I’ve got to say!”
“No I’m not!”
“It’s not really any of your business, is it, Granger?” Draco croaked as he finally was able to get enough air into his lungs to talk.
“It most certainly is my business,” Hermione said. “He’s my friend. I just want to make sure-”
“Hermione, please,” Harry groaned, folding his arms across the table and burying his face into them. The tips of his ears were red.
“Have you been using condoms?” Hermione asked clinically. Harry’s head shot up and he gave her a wild look.
“Where the hell would I get condoms from?”
“What the hell are condoms?” Draco asked loudly, which earned him a strange look from Justin Finch-Fletchey who was walking by their table on the way to Hufflepuff. Hermione gave Harry a somewhat disappointed look.
“I would have expected you to know at least some of this!” she admonished.
“I do!” Harry insisted. “But- Merlin, Hermione, we’ve never even been with anyone else! Where would we be getting any of these-these diseases from?”
“It never hurts to start practicing early,” Hermione sniffed, raising her chin slightly. Harry groaned again and Draco snickered despite himself.
“If I let you give me a list of…of the protective spells you looked up, will you shut up about it and let me pretend we never had this conversation?” Harry asked weakly. Hermione huffed.
“Oh, fine,” she said exasperatedly, turning back to her notes. “I suppose so.”
“Thank the gods,” Harry muttered.
“Harry, what are condoms?” Draco asked quickly and quietly, leaning towards his boyfriend as he did so. Harry blushed.
“Erm…well…” he stuttered, but then luckily he was distracted as the rest of his dorm mates plopped into seats around him.
“Morning, Harry,” Seamus said cheerfully, helping himself to the kippers. Harry nodded at him before turning his attention to Ron, who had just sat down beside Hermione.
“Hey, Harry,” he greeted absently, pouring himself some pumpkin juice. Harry cleared his throat, making Ron roll his eyes as he scowled at the blond across from him. “Malfoy,” he said stonily. Harry grinned and Draco smirked.
“Weasley,” he said, feigning cheerfulness. He attempted a grin, though he really didn’t try too hard and it ended up looking more like a sneer than anything else. Ron snorted.
“Why are there jelly beans all over the table?” Neville asked curiously from his spot beside Ron.
“Er…”
“Harry, what are condoms?” Draco hissed so no one else would hear.
“Ahh…” He was saved from answering both questions as the mail arrived and owls began sweeping through the Great Hall. Though this only distracted Draco for a second, because once he’d made sure he hadn’t gotten any owls, he began tugging on Harry’s sleeve again. Harry rolled his eyes, and suddenly Hermione gasped loudly and once again he didn’t have to answer Draco’s question.
“Harry!” Hermione said frantically, looking at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth a few times as she tried to say something, and then eventually just shoved her newspaper at him and began wringing her hands.
“Hey, dad sent me a letter,” Ron was saying, but Harry was too busy staring down at the Daily Prophet’s headline to care. His hands clenched around the paper so tightly it began tearing slightly at the bottom.
DEATH EATERS ATTACK IN DEVON
Dark Mark found above muggleborn’s home. No one left alive.
Harry read the article quickly and looked up to find Ron and Hermione watching him anxiously.
“Dad sent me a letter about it,” Ron said quietly. “Said he’d keep us posted so we get the facts and not whatever rubbish the Prophet might come up with.”
“Good,” Harry said, looking back down at the article. “That’s good… Wait, did the Death Eaters in Azkaban escape?” Hermione looked at Ron, still wringing her hands, but Ron was already scouring his letter for the answer.
“…No,” he replied eventually, not looking up. “No, dad specifically said they didn’t.”
“I suppose it was too much to hope that the ones we put in prison would really put a dent in You-Know-Who’s plans,” Hermione murmured. “I mean, we only got how many captured?” Harry shrugged.
“Six or seven maybe? The worst got away...that LeStrange bitch,” he said bitterly. He skimmed the article once more, eyes landing on the family’s name. “Hawthorne… Why does that sound familiar? Do we known any Hawthornes?”
“Maybe you’re getting them mixed up with Nathaniel Hawthorne,” Hermione suggested. She rewarded with blank looks. “Oh come on! He wrote The Scarlet Letter!”
“Because we’ve all read that,” Ron muttered. “Was he a muggle?”
“Andy Hawthorne,” Draco interrupted suddenly, causing Harry to jerk in surprise and nearly knock over his drink. Hermione and Ron both looked startled as well, and it was obvious they’d both also completely forgotten Draco was even there. “You should remember him, Harry; he was the Ravenclaw seeker for our first and second year. Shame he had to go and get himself killed, he was a rather good player,” Draco continued in a quiet, almost bored tone. “I didn’t know he was muggleborn, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just remembered I left one of my books in the common room.” With that, Draco pushed away from the table and walked quickly out of the Great Hall. Harry watched him go, sighing.
“I forgot he was there,” he said softly, turning back to Hermione and Ron. “I wouldn’t have mentioned the Death Eaters in Azkaban…or LeStrange either, for that matter.” Hermione looked at him sympathetically, but Ron frowned.
“You can’t hold back just because of his dad,” he said. “It’s the bastard’s own fault he was thrown in prison. And he damn well deserved it, too!”
“Yeah, I know,” Harry replied, fiddling with a loose string on the cuff of his robe. “But still…”
* * *
The attack on Monday wasn’t just a one-time thing. There was another headline in the paper on Tuesday, and two more in Wednesday’s edition. By Thursday everyone was getting antsy. There were often hushed conversations in the corridors, and occasionally a worried student would burst out in tears. Hermione was beginning to look like she was going to be one of those students. Harry had come down from his dorm late on Wednesday night, unable to sleep, only to find his friend still wide awake with maps and newspaper copies spread out on the table in front of her.
“I can’t find a pattern,” she’d whispered frantically, eyes wide and moving quickly across the papers before her. She’d circled all the places that had been attacked so far. Harry had watched her for a painful moment before sitting down beside her.
“Hermione, there’s only been four attacks so far,” he’d told her gently. “You’re not likely to find any sort of pattern.”
Indeed, the only thing similar about the attacks was that they were all on muggleborn wizard’s families. Not surprising, certainly, but worth noting. On two of the attacks, the actual wizard hadn’t even been present, and only the rest of the family had been murdered. Ron’s father was still sending them letters every morning, under specific directions not to share them with anyone else but Ginny. They always held a bit more detail than the Daily Prophet did, though really, it wasn’t much. Nonetheless, it was encouraging to be included and informed about what was happening. Especially if it had anything to do with the Order.
Harry had received a letter from Remus on Wednesday. It didn’t say much besides telling him to be careful, stay safe, and not do anything rash. There was a short paragraph telling him that the Order had been holding meetings trying to come up with a plan, but apparently there really wasn’t much they could do at the moment. Nearly every letter the trio received restated the fact that, yes, all the captured Death Eaters were still in Azkaban. Harry vaguely wondered if maybe he should tell Remus that he was currently dating Lucius Malfoy’s son.
Or maybe he should first tell the older man that he was gay…
Or perhaps not.
Thursday dawned with the reports of yet two more attacks, and Professor Sprout had to quickly usher a third-year Hufflepuff out of the Great Hall before the paper had even arrived.
She was the first from Hogwarts to lose her family in the attacks.
Harry sighed and poked at his food. He had absolutely no appetite and he steadily ignored Hermione sternly telling him to eat. Glancing up, he unconsciously raked his eyes up and down the Slytherin table until he found Draco, and then he went about staring at him until the boy looked up and noticed him.
Draco was talking to Pansy about the Potions essay they were supposed to have done for class that day, but he got bored of the conversation fairly quickly. Sighing agitatedly, he glanced over at the Gryffindor table, jerking slightly when he saw Harry staring at him.
Well, it was about bloody time!
Draco had barely spoken to Harry at all that week, aside from the hurried greetings they threw to each other in the hallway. They hadn’t even talked in the classes they shared together, and whenever Draco thought he might approach the other boy, Harry was always involved in hurried, anxious conversations with his two sidekicks. They hadn’t eaten together since Monday either, though really, Draco told himself, it was Harry’s fault. He’d been brushed off more times than was acceptable ever since the Dark Lord had begun these attacks, and fuck all if he was going to try and talk to the other boy again.
But then Harry grinned at him and dug into a bowl of oatmeal, eating each bite as slowly as possible and languorously licking the spoon clean in the most provocative way possible each time.
Oh hell.
Breakfast finished and Draco was on his feet and headed for the doors less than thirty seconds after Harry had left. He hadn’t gone far; Harry was still lingering around the entrance hall, having another one of those hushed conversations with his friends. Draco moved towards them just as they began heading for the staircase, and he cursed under his breath before throwing patience to the wind and calling out to his boyfriend.
“Harry!” he said angrily, not particularly surprised when the other boy didn’t seem to hear him. “Oy, Potter!” Harry turned that time, and the look that lit up his face almost made up for the first four days of the week.
“Draco,” he said happily, moving toward him. Draco was attempting to look annoyed and project ‘don’t-you-fucking-touch-me’ vibes, but apparently that didn’t deter the almighty boy-who-lived because Harry was reaching for his wrist and gently closing his fingers around it while he pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s lips.
Draco glowered at him for a moment, but Harry honestly didn’t seem to think anything was wrong, so Draco heaved a huge sigh and all but threw himself at Harry, meeting his lips eagerly. Harry’s arms quickly wrapped themselves around Draco’s waist, and the couple remained like that, kissing gently for a few seconds before they were interrupted by Ron coughing loudly. Draco turned to spit an insult out at him, but Harry quickly caught his chin and turned his face back toward his own.
“What’s your last class today?” he asked quietly. “Herbology, right?” Draco blinked, surprised that he knew that, and nodded.
“Why?”
“Can you skip? You’re good at Herbology.”
Draco’s lips quirked upwards and he slid his hands down from Harry’s shoulders to his chest and fisted the material of his robe there. “I suppose I could skip,” he said loftily. “If it’s for a good cause.” Harry grinned, pushing his hips forward slightly against Draco’s.
“It’s for a very good cause,” he murmured. “Meet me outside Gryffindor?” Draco paused, leaning back a bit so he could look more easily at Harry.
“…Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
They managed to keep themselves occupied straight through dinner, moving, sliding, and writhing against each other. They put their mouths to good use, leaving hot, sticky, wet trails down each other’s naked bodies. It might have irked Draco that he’d be back to wearing turtlenecks for the weekend, but at the moment he was too sated to care.
And besides, Harry would be joining him this time, which just made it all the better.
“Mmmm, that feels good,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms more tightly around Draco’s waist. They were still lying in Harry’s bed, and Harry was resting halfway down Draco’s body, cheek flat against the boy’s stomach. Draco absently ran his hand through Harry’s hair again and stared up at the ghastly red color of the bed canopy. Sighing, he twined his legs with Harry’s and began trailing his other hand up and down Harry’s back. Harry let out a content groan, wriggling yet closer to Draco and propping his chin up so he could look at Draco’s face. Draco lowered his eyes from the ceiling and met Harry’s.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to do it in your bed,” he muttered, pulling at a lock of Harry’s hair. “I mean, this is your bed, right?” Harry snickered.
“Of course it is,” he said, smiling gently at Draco. “And we stuck to your terms, didn’t we?” Draco, still absolutely positive that should they actually have sex in Harry’s room, Murphy’s Law would come into play and all of Harry’s roommates would walk in and see him with Harry’s cock up his arse, had absolutely refused anything more intimate than a blowjob. “Just frottage and fellatio.” Draco’s hand paused on Harry’s back.
“…Frottage?” he repeated, snorting. “There’s actually a name for it?”
“Apparently,” Harry grinned. He pulled himself upright, crawling over Draco and plopping down beside him before reaching into the drawer of his bedside table and pulling out a book.
“Your roommates will be back soon,” Draco said, grunting a little as he sat up and rested back against the headboard. “Silencing spell, maybe?” Harry shrugged and cast the spell around the bed quickly. Then he handed the book to Draco.
“That’s the book I keep telling you about,” he said. “The one that Seamus got me for Christmas.” He flipped it open to a random page that was illustrated with various animated pictures of two men moving against each other. Draco’s lips parted as he stared down at it.
“Merlin,” he gasped, turning the page. “Bloody-! Is that even possible?” Harry laughed.
“We’ll have to work on our flexibility,” he said with a smirk. Draco turned another page, eyes following the movements of the animated pictures. Harry watched with him, leaning against the boy and reveling in how they seemed to fit perfectly against one another. He watched as Draco bit his lip slightly when he moved onto another page, and, grinning, he began rubbing his fingers in small circles along the inside of Draco’s thigh. Draco moaned lightly.
“Harry…” he murmured, and Harry slid his fingers farther up his leg. Groaning, Draco slid a little ways down the pillow, legs spreading out a bit as he continued studying the book. Harry chuckled and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s rapidly hardening cock. Draco gasped and spread his legs even wider so that he could press up more easily into Harry’s hand.
“Want to see how long you can hold out?” Harry asked, tightening his grip. Draco grit his teeth.
“And why the hell would I want to do that?” he asked in a strangled voice. He gasped again and tossed the book somewhere toward the foot of the bed. “It won’t be much longer at this point anyway.” Harry curled himself around Draco’s side, sliding the palm of his hand over the head of Draco’s cock and running his thumb across the slit. Draco’s hips bucked upwards and he sucked in a breath loudly as his head fell back against the pillows. Grinning in a very self-satisfied sort of way, Harry stroked down and pulled back up, building a rhythm that quickly increased in speed. “Nggh-Harry!” Draco exclaimed in a choked voice, hand darting out and clasping down on the boy’s shoulder, and then his back was arching and he was coming into Harry’s hand.
Harry continued pulling, milking every last drop out of Draco until the boy collapsed in a heap back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Reaching for his wand, Harry cast a quick cleaning spell and fell against Draco’s side again, laying an arm heavily over Draco’s waist. Draco glanced at him through strands of hair that he was too lazy to push out of his eyes.
“You want…?” he trailed off, glancing down at Harry’s lap, but Harry just smiled and shook his head.
“I’m fine,” he said, kissing Draco’s shoulder. Draco snorted and began digging around beneath the covers for his wand.
“Accio book,” he said lazily, pointing towards the foot of the bed. Harry laughed as Seamus’ gift flew through the air and Draco caught it, settling himself in and flipping through it again.
“Stay here tonight,” Harry said suddenly, arm tightening around Draco’s waist. Draco sighed, setting the book down heavily in his lap. “Come on, Draco,” Harry pleaded.
“No,” Draco responded evenly.
“Why not?” Harry asked, face clouding over. “Why do always refuse to stay with me?” Draco sat up, shoving the bed covers out of his way, and began pulling his y-fronts back on.
“I’m not refusing to stay with you, I’m refusing to stay in your room,” he said.
“Why?”
“I just don’t fancy waking up with a bunch of Gryffindors is all.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Harry said angrily, throwing the covers off himself so he could pull his boxers on as well. “You never stay with me in the Room of Requirement either.”
“What’re you so upset about?” Draco asked incredulously, turning to face Harry and propping his hands up on his hips. “We’ve been together for all of a week and a half! We don’t need to be…be…moving in with each other yet!”
“Moving in- It’s not moving in!” Harry exclaimed. “It’s you staying the night with me every once in a while.” Draco frowned, pursing his lips together.
“Well I don’t want to,” he said in a hard voice, pulling his trousers on now. He looked around for his shirt, vaguely wondering where the hell it had gotten to.
“What are you so afraid of?” Harry asked quietly, eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“…Afraid of?! I’m not afraid of anything!” Draco shouted, turning around to face Harry. His hands curled into fists at his side. “Why are you so obsessed with sex?” Harry blinked, mouth falling open in disbelief. “That’s why you want me to stay, right?”
“I am not obsessed with sex!” he said indignantly. “What the fuck gave you that idea?”
“It’s all that we do!” Draco said exasperatedly. “The only time we’re ever together is when we’re fucking.”
“We studied together last week!”
“Oh, and that turned out just perfect! We had a huge argument and then the first thing you said afterwards was something about make-up sex!”
“That’s…that’s not-”
“You didn’t even look twice my way the entire week, and the first time I finally managed to get a chance to talk to you, what did you say?” Harry floundered, mouth opening and closing as he didn’t know what to say, and Draco plundered on angrily, “You wanted me to meet you up here. So we could have sex. Because Merlin knows, the great Harry fucking Potter can’t go more than four days without a shag!” Harry’s mouth closed with a snap and he breathed in harshly through his nose.
“You are so far off the mark-” he began to say quietly, dangerously.
“I don’t think I am!” Draco interrupted loudly.
“Well I don’t believe I heard you arguing!” Harry said. “You seemed pretty eager to come up here. And for that matter, you didn’t talk to me the rest of the week either-”
“I tried to talk to you every damn day!” Draco exclaimed. “You’ve been ignoring me!”
“I have not been ignoring you!”
“Ever since these fucking attacks, you’ve barely spoken a word to me! You’re always talking to the fucking mudblood or something!”
“DON’T CALL HER THAT!!” Harry roared, nails digging into the palm of his hands. Draco actually took a step back, eyes narrowing. “And you know what?” Harry continued viciously. “I hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but the world doesn’t revolve around you! There are more important things happening!” Draco stood there silently for a moment, before yanking his shirt up from where it was peeking out under the bed and pulling it on. He quickly grabbed his robe and bag and then stormed towards the door. Harry sighed and shut his eyes. “Draco,” he said tiredly.
“Fuck you, Potter,” Draco shot at him, before slamming the door behind him on his way out.
* * *
Harry retreated to the common room later that night as his roommates began taking over their bedroom, because he really didn’t feel like dealing with Seamus’ antics or Ron’s questioning about why he was in such a bad mood. Apparently everyone had still been at dinner when Draco had stormed out earlier, because no one asked him about it.
The common room was fairly empty, but he found Hermione sitting on the couches in front of the fireplace, bent over her Ancient Runes textbook.
“Hey, Harry,” she greeted absently when he sat down beside her. “I didn’t see you at dinner.”
“That’s because I wasn’t there,” he said dryly, looking at the maps still spread out on the table. “Have you added today’s attacks?” Hermione looked up and sighed, shutting her textbook and setting it off to the side.
“I did,” she answered quietly, running her hand lightly over the edge of the map. “There’s been six so far. But still no pattern I can decipher. They’re just…all over the place! It’s so frustrating…” She trailed off, resting her chin on her fist and staring into the fire. Harry sighed, falling back against the couch, and Hermione turned her head to look at him. “What’s wrong, Harry?”
“Nothing,” he said quietly. Then he sighed again. “Draco,” he corrected, and buried his face into his hands. “Oh…God, Hermione, what was I thinking?” he said, voice muffled by his hands before he looked up into the fire. “Me and Malfoy? What possessed me into thinking that anything between us could work?”
“What happened?” Hermione asked worriedly.
“He was just…well…I dunno, I suppose some of it was my fault too. Or…all of it, rather.” Harry groaned. “I just keep pushing him, and he says the only reason I’m in this thing is for the-…erm, well-”
“The sex?” Hermione suggested, smiling a little. Harry blushed and nodded.
“The sex,” he repeated. “Even though I’m not. I mean…I think I’m not. But then he said I was ignoring him-… Fuck, I guess I was. But it’s not like I can talk to him about all of this!” Harry gestured angrily towards the maps in front of him as he spoke. He heaved a great sigh, tangling his hands into his hair. “Bugger,” he said simply. Hermione sighed as well, patting Harry’s thigh.
“This is all my fault,” she said tiredly. Harry snorted.
“Yeah, right.”
“No really, it is.” She turned to face her friend, looking absolutely miserable. “Harry, at the beginning of the year, you were an absolute wreck. You were depressed, you barely talked to anyone…and I know you had every right to feel wretched, what with….what with Sirius and all.” Harry winced slightly, looking away, and Hermione leaned against his side, curling her legs beneath her on the couch. “But as your friend,” she continued, “I was worried about you. Merlin, I was so worried.”
“You’re always worried,” Harry said, smiling gently. “A mother hen, that’s what you are.” Hermione grinned a little, swatting at his shoulder, before her smile fell again.
“When we started the truth or dare games…I…well, there’s always been something about Mal-…Draco that made you come alive. Not in a good way, certainly,” she said quickly, when Harry looked at her incredulously. “He just makes you react, no matter what mood you’re in. And when you had to kiss him…you just kind of came back to yourself. Suddenly you had something else to worry about that didn’t involve the death of a loved one, and not that you forgot about Sirius, but you were able to let go. To continue, to move on, to worry about something silly and mundane for once.” She grinned at Harry. “I know you spent your weeks worrying about what would happen when Saturday rolled around. How long would you have to kiss him, how much farther would you have to go…”
“I’m surprised I don’t have grey hair from how much I stressed over that,” Harry admitted, cheeks turning slightly red.
“I’m not sure how Pansy and I ended up talking about it,” Hermione said, glancing towards the ceiling as she thought about it. “But suddenly we were discussing it and what good could come from it and what bad… Draco was in a slump same as you were, according to Pansy. What with his father in prison and all. It was like the rug had been pulled from beneath him and there was no one willing to help him up again. According to her anyway. And then suddenly he was back to his usual prat self as well. Potter this and Potter that, I hate him, he’s such a twit, so on and so forth.” Harry snorted and Hermione giggled a bit. “This is what Pansy told me, remember.”
“Right.”
“So really, we were both just being selfish, I guess. But it was such a relief to have you two sniping at each other again. And then… Well, I mean, you took it upon yourselves to practice,” Hermione laughed again, “but we certainly pushed you into it. I don’t know if I actually wanted or expected you to become involved in a relationship with Draco, but gradually you started looking happy again, so I wasn’t going to put a stop to anything that was happening.” She sighed. “So I encouraged it. I thought it might do you some good.”
“Shot in the dark, really,” Harry murmured. “You couldn’t have known I was gay, much less that he was. Hell, I didn’t know I was gay.” Hermione shrugged.
“You can only be friends with someone for so long before you start questioning things,” she grinned. “I’ve kind of wondered ever since that bit with Cho…” Harry winced a little and Hermione chuckled. “Anyway, Harry, the point is that it was selfish on my part. I practically pushed you into a relationship with a boy you’ve hated for five years. I didn’t stop to think about what would happen once you were together. How can you possibly set aside a rivalry that big within a month?” She sighed, shaking her head slightly.
“Hermione,” Harry said slowly, “I think you’re right on some parts. The pushing thing, maybe. But, starting the relationship?” He smiled tiredly. “That was all me. I fell for him, I knew I was falling for him. It was like I completely forgot we’d hated each other.” Harry let out a long breath, head falling back against the couch. “I’ll have to apologize to him tomorrow. I’m not ready to give up on this yet.” Hermione smiled at him.
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. Harry slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly again his side, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, staring at the dying flames of the fire.
“Ron would kill me if he saw us right now, you know,” Harry quipped a while later.
Hermione smacked him on the shoulder with an exclamation of, “Harry!” Then she promptly blushed and Harry laughed and settled back against the couch again.
* * *
continue to part 2
Thanks also to the fabulous miints and __goldie for beta-ing! Ladies, I couldn’t do it without you! I really, really couldn’t.
So I’ll just let you get on to chapter 14 now, eh? ^.~ It's a long one. Two parts, actually, so be sure to read all of it!
Title: Starts With a Spin
Category: Harry Potter
Genre: Humor/Romance/Smut/Slash
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: H/D
Disclaimer: Harry Potter ain’t mine…if it were…well…Draco certainly wouldn’t be Harry’s enemy forever. ^.~
Summary: It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.
--> All chapters can be found here. <--
previous
~~Chapter 14~~
Monday morning found Draco sitting with Harry at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d ended up there actually, because he was pretty sure that it was Harry’s turn to sit with him at the Slytherin table. Then again, he also wasn’t sure why they were up so bloody early in the first place, and it would have been a bit pointless to sit at Slytherin because, frankly, none of his friends were even there yet. As it was, Hermione was the only one of Harry’s friends sitting with them, and she was busy reading over her Transfigurations notes and revising for the test they had later that day.
“Why the hell are we eating breakfast so early again?” Draco asked, or rather, whined petulantly as he prodded absently at his oatmeal. He was bent over the table, elbow propped on top of it and cheek resting on his hand.
“Because,” Harry said through gritted teeth as he struggled with a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans that Ron had brought him back from Hogsmeade. It was apparently refusing to open. “I asked you what time you wanted to meet up this morning, and this was the time you gave me. So I dragged myself out of bed and came down with Hermione. S’not my fault you don’t know what time breakfast runs ‘til after six years of being here.” Draco frowned, watching as Harry began pulling the bag in different directions, grunting slightly.
“I’m sure I didn’t suggest such an ungodly hour,” he said haughtily, chin lifting a bit. “You must have heard me wrong.”
“Yeah, of course, that must be what happened,” Harry muttered sarcastically. He gave a final tug at the jelly beans, and then tossed them onto the table and glared at them with his arms crossed.
“Are you sure you should be eating those for breakfast, Harry?” Hermione asked, not even looking up from her notes. Harry rolled his eyes, aware that Hermione wouldn’t notice, and began tearing at the bag again.
“I’m not eating them for breakfast,” he grunted, baring his teeth as he pulled. “I’m eating them with breakfast. Actually, I’m not even eating them at all because this bloody fucking bag won’t OPEN!”
“Harry!” Hermione scolded, glancing up at him this time. “Language!” Harry ignored her, tugging yet harder at the bag, and Draco chuckled.
“You look like you’re constipated, Potter,” he smirked.
“Thanks, Draco, I love you, too,” Harry muttered absently, arms falling to his sides as he dropped the jelly beans once more onto the table. Draco’s eyes widened slightly as Harry snagged a piece of bacon and obliviously stuffed it into his mouth, and then his eyes went wide as well and he sucked in a breath that instantly had him choking on the bacon. “Er- I…I-I m-m-mean-” he coughed, grabbing his drink and taking a few quick gulps from it. “I mean-…what I meant was-…that wasn’t what I meant,” he finished lamely, cheeks burning and eyes now concentrating fixatedly at his plate. Draco blinked, feeling his face heat up, and he looked somewhere in the opposite direction.
“I should hope not,” he said in a somewhat forced careless tone, glancing back at Harry. Harry’s gaze at his plate narrowed slightly as his face tightened, and Draco bit his lip. “I mean…ahh…hmmm.” There was an awkward moment of silence that Hermione somehow managed to ignore, and then Draco said quickly, “Pass the kippers, would you?”
“Yeah, sure,” Harry answered just as fast. He handed them over, and suddenly the moment was over and Harry went back to trying to open his Bertie Bott’s and Draco pushed more food around his plate. Across the table from them, Hermione sighed deeply and closed her notebook. “Finished?” Harry asked.
“No, I’ll have to look it over again during lunch,” Hermione replied, reaching across the table and grabbing a platter of toast. “I wasn’t exactly clear on some of the theory work in chapter eleven.” She began spreading marmalade across her toast.
“Oh, right,” Harry murmured inattentively. Hermione looked at him closely, and then sighed again and set down her knife.
“Harry, I’ve been meaning to ask you…well, I’ve been meaning to ask both you and Draco, actually.” Draco glanced up when he heard his name and gave the girl a bored ‘I’m-listening-but-I’m-definitely-not-interested’ sort of look. Hermione continued nervously, “I mean, we don’t really learn this sort of thing at Hogwarts and I’m sure the Dursleys didn’t tell you anything…and it’s not exactly the sort of thing you talk about with your friends, and I’m sure Mrs. Weasley will want to talk to you about it but she probably thinks she doesn’t have to yet. And I have no idea about Draco, but I thought I should just go ahead and make sure-”
“Hermione!” Harry interrupted, sharing a brief amused look with Draco. The other boy rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to his lips. “Just say whatever you’re trying to say, would you?”
Hermione nodded and took a deep breath, and just as Harry gave the bag a particularly hard tug, she blurted out, “I just want to make sure you and Draco are practicing safe sex.” Draco promptly choked on his drink and Harry jerked, finally ripping the bag open and sending tiny jelly beans flying through the air. They landed all over the table, some even splashing into the pumpkin juice pitchers in front of them while others rolled off the edge and fell onto the floor. Several bounced off Harry’s glasses, but he was too busy giving Hermione a bug-eyed look to notice.
“What was that?” he asked in a strangled tone as Draco coughed heavily from beside him. He absently hoped the boy could still breathe, but he was too frozen with shock to check. Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes, and composed herself.
“I want to make sure you and Draco are practicing safe sex,” she repeated in a much more controlled voice. “I’m not entirely sure what type of diseases you can contract in the wizarding world, but I know that as a sexually active homosexual in the muggle world you have to be very careful not to get HIV-”
“Gah! H-Hermione!!” Harry spluttered, hands gripping the edge of the table. He was still giving her that bug-eyed look. “You can’t just ask us that!”
“Yes I can, and I believe I just did,” Hermione retorted. “Now, I looked up some protective spells-”
“Hermione!”
“Harry,” Hermione threw back at him. “You’re going to listen to what I’ve got to say!”
“No I’m not!”
“It’s not really any of your business, is it, Granger?” Draco croaked as he finally was able to get enough air into his lungs to talk.
“It most certainly is my business,” Hermione said. “He’s my friend. I just want to make sure-”
“Hermione, please,” Harry groaned, folding his arms across the table and burying his face into them. The tips of his ears were red.
“Have you been using condoms?” Hermione asked clinically. Harry’s head shot up and he gave her a wild look.
“Where the hell would I get condoms from?”
“What the hell are condoms?” Draco asked loudly, which earned him a strange look from Justin Finch-Fletchey who was walking by their table on the way to Hufflepuff. Hermione gave Harry a somewhat disappointed look.
“I would have expected you to know at least some of this!” she admonished.
“I do!” Harry insisted. “But- Merlin, Hermione, we’ve never even been with anyone else! Where would we be getting any of these-these diseases from?”
“It never hurts to start practicing early,” Hermione sniffed, raising her chin slightly. Harry groaned again and Draco snickered despite himself.
“If I let you give me a list of…of the protective spells you looked up, will you shut up about it and let me pretend we never had this conversation?” Harry asked weakly. Hermione huffed.
“Oh, fine,” she said exasperatedly, turning back to her notes. “I suppose so.”
“Thank the gods,” Harry muttered.
“Harry, what are condoms?” Draco asked quickly and quietly, leaning towards his boyfriend as he did so. Harry blushed.
“Erm…well…” he stuttered, but then luckily he was distracted as the rest of his dorm mates plopped into seats around him.
“Morning, Harry,” Seamus said cheerfully, helping himself to the kippers. Harry nodded at him before turning his attention to Ron, who had just sat down beside Hermione.
“Hey, Harry,” he greeted absently, pouring himself some pumpkin juice. Harry cleared his throat, making Ron roll his eyes as he scowled at the blond across from him. “Malfoy,” he said stonily. Harry grinned and Draco smirked.
“Weasley,” he said, feigning cheerfulness. He attempted a grin, though he really didn’t try too hard and it ended up looking more like a sneer than anything else. Ron snorted.
“Why are there jelly beans all over the table?” Neville asked curiously from his spot beside Ron.
“Er…”
“Harry, what are condoms?” Draco hissed so no one else would hear.
“Ahh…” He was saved from answering both questions as the mail arrived and owls began sweeping through the Great Hall. Though this only distracted Draco for a second, because once he’d made sure he hadn’t gotten any owls, he began tugging on Harry’s sleeve again. Harry rolled his eyes, and suddenly Hermione gasped loudly and once again he didn’t have to answer Draco’s question.
“Harry!” Hermione said frantically, looking at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth a few times as she tried to say something, and then eventually just shoved her newspaper at him and began wringing her hands.
“Hey, dad sent me a letter,” Ron was saying, but Harry was too busy staring down at the Daily Prophet’s headline to care. His hands clenched around the paper so tightly it began tearing slightly at the bottom.
DEATH EATERS ATTACK IN DEVON
Dark Mark found above muggleborn’s home. No one left alive.
Harry read the article quickly and looked up to find Ron and Hermione watching him anxiously.
“Dad sent me a letter about it,” Ron said quietly. “Said he’d keep us posted so we get the facts and not whatever rubbish the Prophet might come up with.”
“Good,” Harry said, looking back down at the article. “That’s good… Wait, did the Death Eaters in Azkaban escape?” Hermione looked at Ron, still wringing her hands, but Ron was already scouring his letter for the answer.
“…No,” he replied eventually, not looking up. “No, dad specifically said they didn’t.”
“I suppose it was too much to hope that the ones we put in prison would really put a dent in You-Know-Who’s plans,” Hermione murmured. “I mean, we only got how many captured?” Harry shrugged.
“Six or seven maybe? The worst got away...that LeStrange bitch,” he said bitterly. He skimmed the article once more, eyes landing on the family’s name. “Hawthorne… Why does that sound familiar? Do we known any Hawthornes?”
“Maybe you’re getting them mixed up with Nathaniel Hawthorne,” Hermione suggested. She rewarded with blank looks. “Oh come on! He wrote The Scarlet Letter!”
“Because we’ve all read that,” Ron muttered. “Was he a muggle?”
“Andy Hawthorne,” Draco interrupted suddenly, causing Harry to jerk in surprise and nearly knock over his drink. Hermione and Ron both looked startled as well, and it was obvious they’d both also completely forgotten Draco was even there. “You should remember him, Harry; he was the Ravenclaw seeker for our first and second year. Shame he had to go and get himself killed, he was a rather good player,” Draco continued in a quiet, almost bored tone. “I didn’t know he was muggleborn, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just remembered I left one of my books in the common room.” With that, Draco pushed away from the table and walked quickly out of the Great Hall. Harry watched him go, sighing.
“I forgot he was there,” he said softly, turning back to Hermione and Ron. “I wouldn’t have mentioned the Death Eaters in Azkaban…or LeStrange either, for that matter.” Hermione looked at him sympathetically, but Ron frowned.
“You can’t hold back just because of his dad,” he said. “It’s the bastard’s own fault he was thrown in prison. And he damn well deserved it, too!”
“Yeah, I know,” Harry replied, fiddling with a loose string on the cuff of his robe. “But still…”
* * *
The attack on Monday wasn’t just a one-time thing. There was another headline in the paper on Tuesday, and two more in Wednesday’s edition. By Thursday everyone was getting antsy. There were often hushed conversations in the corridors, and occasionally a worried student would burst out in tears. Hermione was beginning to look like she was going to be one of those students. Harry had come down from his dorm late on Wednesday night, unable to sleep, only to find his friend still wide awake with maps and newspaper copies spread out on the table in front of her.
“I can’t find a pattern,” she’d whispered frantically, eyes wide and moving quickly across the papers before her. She’d circled all the places that had been attacked so far. Harry had watched her for a painful moment before sitting down beside her.
“Hermione, there’s only been four attacks so far,” he’d told her gently. “You’re not likely to find any sort of pattern.”
Indeed, the only thing similar about the attacks was that they were all on muggleborn wizard’s families. Not surprising, certainly, but worth noting. On two of the attacks, the actual wizard hadn’t even been present, and only the rest of the family had been murdered. Ron’s father was still sending them letters every morning, under specific directions not to share them with anyone else but Ginny. They always held a bit more detail than the Daily Prophet did, though really, it wasn’t much. Nonetheless, it was encouraging to be included and informed about what was happening. Especially if it had anything to do with the Order.
Harry had received a letter from Remus on Wednesday. It didn’t say much besides telling him to be careful, stay safe, and not do anything rash. There was a short paragraph telling him that the Order had been holding meetings trying to come up with a plan, but apparently there really wasn’t much they could do at the moment. Nearly every letter the trio received restated the fact that, yes, all the captured Death Eaters were still in Azkaban. Harry vaguely wondered if maybe he should tell Remus that he was currently dating Lucius Malfoy’s son.
Or maybe he should first tell the older man that he was gay…
Or perhaps not.
Thursday dawned with the reports of yet two more attacks, and Professor Sprout had to quickly usher a third-year Hufflepuff out of the Great Hall before the paper had even arrived.
She was the first from Hogwarts to lose her family in the attacks.
Harry sighed and poked at his food. He had absolutely no appetite and he steadily ignored Hermione sternly telling him to eat. Glancing up, he unconsciously raked his eyes up and down the Slytherin table until he found Draco, and then he went about staring at him until the boy looked up and noticed him.
Draco was talking to Pansy about the Potions essay they were supposed to have done for class that day, but he got bored of the conversation fairly quickly. Sighing agitatedly, he glanced over at the Gryffindor table, jerking slightly when he saw Harry staring at him.
Well, it was about bloody time!
Draco had barely spoken to Harry at all that week, aside from the hurried greetings they threw to each other in the hallway. They hadn’t even talked in the classes they shared together, and whenever Draco thought he might approach the other boy, Harry was always involved in hurried, anxious conversations with his two sidekicks. They hadn’t eaten together since Monday either, though really, Draco told himself, it was Harry’s fault. He’d been brushed off more times than was acceptable ever since the Dark Lord had begun these attacks, and fuck all if he was going to try and talk to the other boy again.
But then Harry grinned at him and dug into a bowl of oatmeal, eating each bite as slowly as possible and languorously licking the spoon clean in the most provocative way possible each time.
Oh hell.
Breakfast finished and Draco was on his feet and headed for the doors less than thirty seconds after Harry had left. He hadn’t gone far; Harry was still lingering around the entrance hall, having another one of those hushed conversations with his friends. Draco moved towards them just as they began heading for the staircase, and he cursed under his breath before throwing patience to the wind and calling out to his boyfriend.
“Harry!” he said angrily, not particularly surprised when the other boy didn’t seem to hear him. “Oy, Potter!” Harry turned that time, and the look that lit up his face almost made up for the first four days of the week.
“Draco,” he said happily, moving toward him. Draco was attempting to look annoyed and project ‘don’t-you-fucking-touch-me’ vibes, but apparently that didn’t deter the almighty boy-who-lived because Harry was reaching for his wrist and gently closing his fingers around it while he pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s lips.
Draco glowered at him for a moment, but Harry honestly didn’t seem to think anything was wrong, so Draco heaved a huge sigh and all but threw himself at Harry, meeting his lips eagerly. Harry’s arms quickly wrapped themselves around Draco’s waist, and the couple remained like that, kissing gently for a few seconds before they were interrupted by Ron coughing loudly. Draco turned to spit an insult out at him, but Harry quickly caught his chin and turned his face back toward his own.
“What’s your last class today?” he asked quietly. “Herbology, right?” Draco blinked, surprised that he knew that, and nodded.
“Why?”
“Can you skip? You’re good at Herbology.”
Draco’s lips quirked upwards and he slid his hands down from Harry’s shoulders to his chest and fisted the material of his robe there. “I suppose I could skip,” he said loftily. “If it’s for a good cause.” Harry grinned, pushing his hips forward slightly against Draco’s.
“It’s for a very good cause,” he murmured. “Meet me outside Gryffindor?” Draco paused, leaning back a bit so he could look more easily at Harry.
“…Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
They managed to keep themselves occupied straight through dinner, moving, sliding, and writhing against each other. They put their mouths to good use, leaving hot, sticky, wet trails down each other’s naked bodies. It might have irked Draco that he’d be back to wearing turtlenecks for the weekend, but at the moment he was too sated to care.
And besides, Harry would be joining him this time, which just made it all the better.
“Mmmm, that feels good,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms more tightly around Draco’s waist. They were still lying in Harry’s bed, and Harry was resting halfway down Draco’s body, cheek flat against the boy’s stomach. Draco absently ran his hand through Harry’s hair again and stared up at the ghastly red color of the bed canopy. Sighing, he twined his legs with Harry’s and began trailing his other hand up and down Harry’s back. Harry let out a content groan, wriggling yet closer to Draco and propping his chin up so he could look at Draco’s face. Draco lowered his eyes from the ceiling and met Harry’s.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to do it in your bed,” he muttered, pulling at a lock of Harry’s hair. “I mean, this is your bed, right?” Harry snickered.
“Of course it is,” he said, smiling gently at Draco. “And we stuck to your terms, didn’t we?” Draco, still absolutely positive that should they actually have sex in Harry’s room, Murphy’s Law would come into play and all of Harry’s roommates would walk in and see him with Harry’s cock up his arse, had absolutely refused anything more intimate than a blowjob. “Just frottage and fellatio.” Draco’s hand paused on Harry’s back.
“…Frottage?” he repeated, snorting. “There’s actually a name for it?”
“Apparently,” Harry grinned. He pulled himself upright, crawling over Draco and plopping down beside him before reaching into the drawer of his bedside table and pulling out a book.
“Your roommates will be back soon,” Draco said, grunting a little as he sat up and rested back against the headboard. “Silencing spell, maybe?” Harry shrugged and cast the spell around the bed quickly. Then he handed the book to Draco.
“That’s the book I keep telling you about,” he said. “The one that Seamus got me for Christmas.” He flipped it open to a random page that was illustrated with various animated pictures of two men moving against each other. Draco’s lips parted as he stared down at it.
“Merlin,” he gasped, turning the page. “Bloody-! Is that even possible?” Harry laughed.
“We’ll have to work on our flexibility,” he said with a smirk. Draco turned another page, eyes following the movements of the animated pictures. Harry watched with him, leaning against the boy and reveling in how they seemed to fit perfectly against one another. He watched as Draco bit his lip slightly when he moved onto another page, and, grinning, he began rubbing his fingers in small circles along the inside of Draco’s thigh. Draco moaned lightly.
“Harry…” he murmured, and Harry slid his fingers farther up his leg. Groaning, Draco slid a little ways down the pillow, legs spreading out a bit as he continued studying the book. Harry chuckled and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s rapidly hardening cock. Draco gasped and spread his legs even wider so that he could press up more easily into Harry’s hand.
“Want to see how long you can hold out?” Harry asked, tightening his grip. Draco grit his teeth.
“And why the hell would I want to do that?” he asked in a strangled voice. He gasped again and tossed the book somewhere toward the foot of the bed. “It won’t be much longer at this point anyway.” Harry curled himself around Draco’s side, sliding the palm of his hand over the head of Draco’s cock and running his thumb across the slit. Draco’s hips bucked upwards and he sucked in a breath loudly as his head fell back against the pillows. Grinning in a very self-satisfied sort of way, Harry stroked down and pulled back up, building a rhythm that quickly increased in speed. “Nggh-Harry!” Draco exclaimed in a choked voice, hand darting out and clasping down on the boy’s shoulder, and then his back was arching and he was coming into Harry’s hand.
Harry continued pulling, milking every last drop out of Draco until the boy collapsed in a heap back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Reaching for his wand, Harry cast a quick cleaning spell and fell against Draco’s side again, laying an arm heavily over Draco’s waist. Draco glanced at him through strands of hair that he was too lazy to push out of his eyes.
“You want…?” he trailed off, glancing down at Harry’s lap, but Harry just smiled and shook his head.
“I’m fine,” he said, kissing Draco’s shoulder. Draco snorted and began digging around beneath the covers for his wand.
“Accio book,” he said lazily, pointing towards the foot of the bed. Harry laughed as Seamus’ gift flew through the air and Draco caught it, settling himself in and flipping through it again.
“Stay here tonight,” Harry said suddenly, arm tightening around Draco’s waist. Draco sighed, setting the book down heavily in his lap. “Come on, Draco,” Harry pleaded.
“No,” Draco responded evenly.
“Why not?” Harry asked, face clouding over. “Why do always refuse to stay with me?” Draco sat up, shoving the bed covers out of his way, and began pulling his y-fronts back on.
“I’m not refusing to stay with you, I’m refusing to stay in your room,” he said.
“Why?”
“I just don’t fancy waking up with a bunch of Gryffindors is all.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” Harry said angrily, throwing the covers off himself so he could pull his boxers on as well. “You never stay with me in the Room of Requirement either.”
“What’re you so upset about?” Draco asked incredulously, turning to face Harry and propping his hands up on his hips. “We’ve been together for all of a week and a half! We don’t need to be…be…moving in with each other yet!”
“Moving in- It’s not moving in!” Harry exclaimed. “It’s you staying the night with me every once in a while.” Draco frowned, pursing his lips together.
“Well I don’t want to,” he said in a hard voice, pulling his trousers on now. He looked around for his shirt, vaguely wondering where the hell it had gotten to.
“What are you so afraid of?” Harry asked quietly, eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“…Afraid of?! I’m not afraid of anything!” Draco shouted, turning around to face Harry. His hands curled into fists at his side. “Why are you so obsessed with sex?” Harry blinked, mouth falling open in disbelief. “That’s why you want me to stay, right?”
“I am not obsessed with sex!” he said indignantly. “What the fuck gave you that idea?”
“It’s all that we do!” Draco said exasperatedly. “The only time we’re ever together is when we’re fucking.”
“We studied together last week!”
“Oh, and that turned out just perfect! We had a huge argument and then the first thing you said afterwards was something about make-up sex!”
“That’s…that’s not-”
“You didn’t even look twice my way the entire week, and the first time I finally managed to get a chance to talk to you, what did you say?” Harry floundered, mouth opening and closing as he didn’t know what to say, and Draco plundered on angrily, “You wanted me to meet you up here. So we could have sex. Because Merlin knows, the great Harry fucking Potter can’t go more than four days without a shag!” Harry’s mouth closed with a snap and he breathed in harshly through his nose.
“You are so far off the mark-” he began to say quietly, dangerously.
“I don’t think I am!” Draco interrupted loudly.
“Well I don’t believe I heard you arguing!” Harry said. “You seemed pretty eager to come up here. And for that matter, you didn’t talk to me the rest of the week either-”
“I tried to talk to you every damn day!” Draco exclaimed. “You’ve been ignoring me!”
“I have not been ignoring you!”
“Ever since these fucking attacks, you’ve barely spoken a word to me! You’re always talking to the fucking mudblood or something!”
“DON’T CALL HER THAT!!” Harry roared, nails digging into the palm of his hands. Draco actually took a step back, eyes narrowing. “And you know what?” Harry continued viciously. “I hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but the world doesn’t revolve around you! There are more important things happening!” Draco stood there silently for a moment, before yanking his shirt up from where it was peeking out under the bed and pulling it on. He quickly grabbed his robe and bag and then stormed towards the door. Harry sighed and shut his eyes. “Draco,” he said tiredly.
“Fuck you, Potter,” Draco shot at him, before slamming the door behind him on his way out.
* * *
Harry retreated to the common room later that night as his roommates began taking over their bedroom, because he really didn’t feel like dealing with Seamus’ antics or Ron’s questioning about why he was in such a bad mood. Apparently everyone had still been at dinner when Draco had stormed out earlier, because no one asked him about it.
The common room was fairly empty, but he found Hermione sitting on the couches in front of the fireplace, bent over her Ancient Runes textbook.
“Hey, Harry,” she greeted absently when he sat down beside her. “I didn’t see you at dinner.”
“That’s because I wasn’t there,” he said dryly, looking at the maps still spread out on the table. “Have you added today’s attacks?” Hermione looked up and sighed, shutting her textbook and setting it off to the side.
“I did,” she answered quietly, running her hand lightly over the edge of the map. “There’s been six so far. But still no pattern I can decipher. They’re just…all over the place! It’s so frustrating…” She trailed off, resting her chin on her fist and staring into the fire. Harry sighed, falling back against the couch, and Hermione turned her head to look at him. “What’s wrong, Harry?”
“Nothing,” he said quietly. Then he sighed again. “Draco,” he corrected, and buried his face into his hands. “Oh…God, Hermione, what was I thinking?” he said, voice muffled by his hands before he looked up into the fire. “Me and Malfoy? What possessed me into thinking that anything between us could work?”
“What happened?” Hermione asked worriedly.
“He was just…well…I dunno, I suppose some of it was my fault too. Or…all of it, rather.” Harry groaned. “I just keep pushing him, and he says the only reason I’m in this thing is for the-…erm, well-”
“The sex?” Hermione suggested, smiling a little. Harry blushed and nodded.
“The sex,” he repeated. “Even though I’m not. I mean…I think I’m not. But then he said I was ignoring him-… Fuck, I guess I was. But it’s not like I can talk to him about all of this!” Harry gestured angrily towards the maps in front of him as he spoke. He heaved a great sigh, tangling his hands into his hair. “Bugger,” he said simply. Hermione sighed as well, patting Harry’s thigh.
“This is all my fault,” she said tiredly. Harry snorted.
“Yeah, right.”
“No really, it is.” She turned to face her friend, looking absolutely miserable. “Harry, at the beginning of the year, you were an absolute wreck. You were depressed, you barely talked to anyone…and I know you had every right to feel wretched, what with….what with Sirius and all.” Harry winced slightly, looking away, and Hermione leaned against his side, curling her legs beneath her on the couch. “But as your friend,” she continued, “I was worried about you. Merlin, I was so worried.”
“You’re always worried,” Harry said, smiling gently. “A mother hen, that’s what you are.” Hermione grinned a little, swatting at his shoulder, before her smile fell again.
“When we started the truth or dare games…I…well, there’s always been something about Mal-…Draco that made you come alive. Not in a good way, certainly,” she said quickly, when Harry looked at her incredulously. “He just makes you react, no matter what mood you’re in. And when you had to kiss him…you just kind of came back to yourself. Suddenly you had something else to worry about that didn’t involve the death of a loved one, and not that you forgot about Sirius, but you were able to let go. To continue, to move on, to worry about something silly and mundane for once.” She grinned at Harry. “I know you spent your weeks worrying about what would happen when Saturday rolled around. How long would you have to kiss him, how much farther would you have to go…”
“I’m surprised I don’t have grey hair from how much I stressed over that,” Harry admitted, cheeks turning slightly red.
“I’m not sure how Pansy and I ended up talking about it,” Hermione said, glancing towards the ceiling as she thought about it. “But suddenly we were discussing it and what good could come from it and what bad… Draco was in a slump same as you were, according to Pansy. What with his father in prison and all. It was like the rug had been pulled from beneath him and there was no one willing to help him up again. According to her anyway. And then suddenly he was back to his usual prat self as well. Potter this and Potter that, I hate him, he’s such a twit, so on and so forth.” Harry snorted and Hermione giggled a bit. “This is what Pansy told me, remember.”
“Right.”
“So really, we were both just being selfish, I guess. But it was such a relief to have you two sniping at each other again. And then… Well, I mean, you took it upon yourselves to practice,” Hermione laughed again, “but we certainly pushed you into it. I don’t know if I actually wanted or expected you to become involved in a relationship with Draco, but gradually you started looking happy again, so I wasn’t going to put a stop to anything that was happening.” She sighed. “So I encouraged it. I thought it might do you some good.”
“Shot in the dark, really,” Harry murmured. “You couldn’t have known I was gay, much less that he was. Hell, I didn’t know I was gay.” Hermione shrugged.
“You can only be friends with someone for so long before you start questioning things,” she grinned. “I’ve kind of wondered ever since that bit with Cho…” Harry winced a little and Hermione chuckled. “Anyway, Harry, the point is that it was selfish on my part. I practically pushed you into a relationship with a boy you’ve hated for five years. I didn’t stop to think about what would happen once you were together. How can you possibly set aside a rivalry that big within a month?” She sighed, shaking her head slightly.
“Hermione,” Harry said slowly, “I think you’re right on some parts. The pushing thing, maybe. But, starting the relationship?” He smiled tiredly. “That was all me. I fell for him, I knew I was falling for him. It was like I completely forgot we’d hated each other.” Harry let out a long breath, head falling back against the couch. “I’ll have to apologize to him tomorrow. I’m not ready to give up on this yet.” Hermione smiled at him.
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. Harry slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly again his side, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, staring at the dying flames of the fire.
“Ron would kill me if he saw us right now, you know,” Harry quipped a while later.
Hermione smacked him on the shoulder with an exclamation of, “Harry!” Then she promptly blushed and Harry laughed and settled back against the couch again.
* * *
continue to part 2