Fic: After Effect, Harry/Draco, NC-17, [Complete]
Title: After Effect
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Ten
Harry decided not to tell Draco about his and Carina's conversation. It felt private.
Nor did he confront Hermione. He decided he would let her think she'd successfully pulled a very Slytherin move without anyone finding out. She deserved it. Harry had Draco now.
For the next few weeks things went relatively well. Those who had attended Carina's birthday party said hello to her at every opportunity, though they did not bestow the same courtesy upon Draco, except Luna, who seemed to be the only one willing to forgive.
Harry could tell it made Draco uncomfortable. After all, Luna had been his prisoner for quite some time during the previous year.
Seamus and Dean had been odd. They'd finally asked Harry if it was true, if he was dating Malfoy, and when he'd said yes they'd both seemed to simply accept it. Dean, Harry sensed, felt a bit more hesitant, and he was certain it had something to do with the dungeons in Malfoy Manor as well.
Ginny was another story. She liked Carina-Harry could tell. But because she was still upset about losing Harry (and refused to talk to him) and disliked Draco, she was at least tactful enough not to fawn over Carina at all. Harry was grateful. While it clearly didn't make Draco happy that everyone else ignored him and not his daughter, he thought Ginny might have been too much.
He was also glad Draco had forgotten to bring up the bit about Kreacher that had come up during Carina's birthday party. He was anxious to avoid describing the way he'd kept tabs on him like a stalker sixth year.
On a Tuesday in the beginning of October the five of them made their way to Transfiguration, Carina's hand wrapped loosely around Harry's finger.
Ron and Hermione sat together at one desk and Harry, Draco, and Carina at another, Carina once again scribbling on a piece of parchment.
The new teacher, Professor Falldale, was in the middle of a supremely boring lecture when Harry felt a sudden warmth on his thigh. His eyes went wide and he looked down to see a pale hand resting just above his knee. When he looked up, he found Draco smirking, though he still seemed to be taking notes.
Harry subtly moved his hand on top of Draco's and squeezed lightly. He heard Draco chuckle.
"What are you doing?" Harry whispered, his eyes still on the professor.
"Taking notes," Draco replied casually. Harry couldn't decide whether to be annoyed, turned on, or amused.
"You're touching my leg."
"I like your leg."
Harry huffed. Again, Draco chuckled.
"Stop touching my leg."
"Hush, Harry, we're in class."
Harry's jaw dropped and he stared at Draco. He was such a cheeky little brat! And with his daughter sitting right next to him!
"Are you trying to cause a scene?"
"I'm not doing anything," Draco said, his smirk growing by the second. And then his hand moved higher so that it rested just below Harry's cock. Harry bit his lip.
"Draco!" he hissed.
But Draco didn't move his hand. As much as Harry begged and squirmed he kept his hand at a teasingly close distance to Harry's now-hard dick until class ended. When it did, everyone but Harry stood up. His cheeks were flaming and he was desperately trying to cool himself down.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione sighed, tapping her foot gently. "We're taking care of Carina, remember? Draco's seeing McGonagall."
The rest of the class stared only a bit more than they normally would, but, as it was Harry, the savior of them all, no one pried and no one asked questions.
"Yes, Harry, please try and move along. I don't wanna be late."
Harry glared at Draco. He took a deep breath, thanked Merlin for his school robes, and stood to leave the classroom with his friends.
Once outside Hermione picked Carina up and turned to Draco.
"How long is the meeting, do you know?"
"Not a clue," he said. Harry watched as Draco ran a hand through his already-perfect hair, wondering why he'd never before appreciated it. "I set the meeting up myself. I just wanted to discuss how things have been going and properly thank her for everything."
"That's sweet of you," Hermione said. "Alright, well good luck. We’ll take her outside. You wanted to play with the broom again, didn't you?" she asked Carina. Carina nodded enthusiastically.
"Be careful," Draco sighed, looking directly at Harry. Harry kissed him lightly on the mouth and smiled.
"I wouldn't let her get hurt. I'll see you later."
* * *
Draco knocked gently on the door to McGonagall’s office. A crisp “enter” could be heard on the other side a moment later.
She was sitting behind what Draco would always think of as Dumbledore’s desk, though he’d only been in the room a few times. She nodded in greeting and gestured for him to take a seat in the chair before the desk.
“Can I offer you anything to drink, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked. Draco shook his head. “Very well. What can I do for you?”
Draco suddenly felt a bit awkward. He’d never really thanked anyone for anything in his life-not something this big, anyway. He cleared his throat.
“I wanted to thank you again for allowing me to bring Carina to school, professor,” he said. He was surprised to see a small smile appear in place of the stern, straight-lipped expression she usually wore.
“It seems I was not mistaken in letting you do so. She’s not caused any trouble.” He could see her working back a smirk. It was a little ominous. Did McGongall smirk? “I must admit, Mr. Malfoy, you’ve done a fine job as a father so far.”
He felt the heat suddenly fill his face and knew he must have been Weasley-red.
“Thank you, professor,” he said quietly. There was a slight shift in the atmosphere and Draco could tell she was about to say something else embarrassing.
“I don’t know how appropriate this is to bring up,” she said, and he looked up, confused, “but you’ve proven that Mr. Potter did the right thing in vouching for you, Mr. Malfoy.”
He was sure he couldn’t have blushed more if she’d started speaking about his and Harry’s sex life.
Well…
“Thank you.” He hoped he wasn’t making too much of a fool out of himself, but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Ma’am,” he added quickly. She nodded.
“It was your daughter’s birthday recently, was it not?”
Draco’s eyebrows both shot up in surprise. “Er-yes” he said stupidly. “How did you know?”
She didn’t answer, merely smiled again, reminding him eerily of Dumbledore. “Tell her happy birthday.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Will that be all, then?”
Draco tried to run quickly through the things he’d been planning on saying in the meeting, but he kept drawing a blank. The unexpected demeanor of his previously stern professor had thrown him for a loop.
He could only nod.
“Good. I’m certain Mr. Potter does not want to teach broomstick lessons by himself.”
Draco had been about to stand up but found himself suddenly stuck to his chair, mouth open. When he realized what he was doing he quickly snapped his jaw shut. He desperately wanted to ask, but somehow knew better.
As he stood to leave his eyes wandered to the place where Dumbledore’s portrait hung, the old man seemingly in a deep slumber.
It could have been a trick of the light, but Draco could have sworn he saw Dumbledore’s lips twitch into a smile.
* * *
Draco sat down on the grass at the far end of the pitch and watched as Harry, Hermione, and Weasley helped Carina with her toy broomstick. Harry was in denims and a sweater and his hair was adorably windblown and Draco thought he looked delightful, especially when he took the tiny broomstick, stuck it between his legs, and showed Carina how to mount.
Draco couldn’t help laughing out loud at this last one. All four looked around at him and soon Carina was in his lap, giggling as though a very funny joke had just been told.
“Papa!”
“Hi, love,” he said with a smile. “Having fun?”
“Yes! Harry showed me how to sit on the broom!”
“I see that.” He looked up at Harry, who was walking over, the toy broomstick in hand. Draco nodded to him casually. “Looks like you’ve got this under control, eh?”
He could tell Harry was trying not to smile but he failed horribly, eventually letting himself laugh and rolling his eyes. He handed the broom to Carina.
“Go ask Ron to help you out,” he said. Carina happily took the broom and went running back to Weasley and Hermione, the ribbon holding her hair back flying out behind her. Draco smiled to himself, wondering not for the first time how he got so lucky with that kid.
Harry plopped down beside him in the grass and kissed his cheek. Draco raised a brow.
“Good mood?”
Harry scoffed but the smile stayed on his face.
“If you were looking for vomit-inducing affection I’m afraid you should have propositioned a Hufflepuff inst-”
“Shut the hell up,” Harry laughed, and he leaned over and kissed Draco directly on the mouth. When he pulled away Draco found himself startlingly close to Harry’s very green eyes and, quite embarrassingly, lost all train of thought for a moment. Harry stayed where he was, having seemed to notice that he’d captured Draco’s full attention.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly. Draco didn't speak, only continued to stare, seeing a million different things and having no idea what any of them meant.
“Have you ever realized,” he said, still staring, not sure where the words were coming from, “that your eyes are nearly the exact color of the Killing Curse?”
This close up he could clearly see Harry’s eyes go wide and he started to back away. Draco automatically reached out and grabbed his hand.
“No,” he said quickly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay,” Harry whispered. He didn’t sound angry. He was still staring at Draco, his brows knitted in confusion. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I shouldn’t have-”
“Draco.” Draco snapped his mouth shut and looked at Harry. “It’s okay.” But something wasn't okay.
“That bothered you.” He felt Harry tense up ever so slightly before he looked at the ground. The hand still under Draco’s slipped away and began playing with grass. Draco watched him intently.
Harry chewed on his lip for a while before speaking. “Do you think he’s … still inside of me? Even though he’s gone?”
Draco’s heart immediately began beating more quickly.
“What..?”
Harry ripped a clump of grass out of the ground and let the blades fall slowly through his fingers.
“Voldemort. Sometimes I think he’s still there.” He sighed and dropped the remainder of grass back onto the ground. “I know you don’t know anything about it, and it’s hard to explain, but … well, I shouldn’t still be able to speak Parseltongue, should I? If he’s not still inside of me?”
“Harry, what do you mean ‘inside of you’?” he asked, more sharply than he’d meant. It sounded disgusting. What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean, anyway?
“I can’t explain the whole thing,” Harry bit out. Draco could feel Harry’s temper rising. He hadn’t realized he was so attuned before-but that was probably because it’d been his goal in life to make Harry squirm. It had been his job to know if he was getting to the hot-headed Gryffindor. Now, though, it felt dangerous.
“Okay,” Draco said slowly. “Well, what do you mean you shouldn't still be able to speak Parseltongue? You’re a Parselmouth. You spoke to that snake second year. Why would it go awa-?”
“It was because of Voldemort!” Yes, Harry was definitely getting frustrated. Not at Draco, but in general. Still, though, with their past, he wasn’t so sure things couldn’t turn violent. And Carina was only half a pitch away. “He was a Parselmouth and there was a Horcrux inside of me so I could speak to snakes. But it’s gone! I shouldn’t be able to anymore!” He pounded the ground with his fist and Draco flinched. “Maybe Dumbledore was wrong,” he whispered. “Maybe it wasn’t just him.”
Draco carefully placed a hand on Harry’s back and, taking it as a good sign that nothing happened, scooted closer.
“Harry.” Draco took a breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I promise the Dark Lord is gone. I saw it happen four months ago.” And it was something he would never forget. That hadn’t been stupid little Gryffindor Potter-that had been Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He’d seemed like some kind of superhuman, calling the Dark Lord by his name like it wasn’t a big deal.
There was also the matter of the Elder wand, but Draco didn’t think bringing that up would do any good.
“I can still speak Parseltongue, Draco,” he whispered.
Draco was astounded. This thing with Parseltongue had clearly been bothering Harry. A lot. He didn’t know what to say, probably because he didn’t know the situation, but he had to say something.
“It’s just a language, Harry.” He rubbed Harry’s back soothingly and moved closer so he could kiss his cheek. “You don’t just forget a language.”
“It’s a hideous language.”
Actually… Draco thought, remembering how intrigued he’d been all those years ago. And suddenly he felt like he was twelve again. Would it be rude to ask him to do it..?
“I think it’s beautiful,” he tried. Harry looked over at him, clearly unhappy with that statement, though there was a hint of curiosity. Draco decided to play on it. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I know it’s associated with something bad, but… I don’t know. I think it’s a beautiful language.” He paused, gathering the nerve to ask. “Can you..?”
Harry stared at him in shock.
“You can’t be serious.” Draco shrugged. Harry’s mouth fell open. “You want me to speak Parseltongue? Why? Everyone hates it!”
“Well, pardon me for being the first Slytherin you’ve ever spoken to civilly,” he said, smirking in an attempt to lighten the mood. Harry watched him carefully before looking back at the ground and concentrating seemingly on nothing. Draco was about to ask when Harry started hissing.
He had no idea what in Merlin’s name was being said, but it may as well have been particularly arousing English for the way blood began filling his cock.
“Stop!” he nearly shouted, instinctively reaching out to grasp Harry’s arm. Harry stopped immediately and looked at Draco, worried.
“I told you,” he said angrily, but Draco shook his head. “What?” Draco’s heavy breathing must have given him away, because Harry’s eyes traveled down to Draco’s cock and went wide. A smile lit up his face instantaneously. Draco wished he could be proud of himself for helping Harry so hugely but he was too busy trying to cool himself down.
“You really do like that, huh?” he breathed, fascinated. Draco just managed to stop the hand that had moved toward his erection before it reached its destination.
“Not now.” Harry bit his lip and Draco had to hold back a groan.
“Let’s go inside.”
“We can’t just go inside!”
Harry moved so they were facing each other and put his cheek right beside Draco’s.
“But I really want you right now,” he whispered. Draco clenched his teeth.
“Not. Now,” he said sharply.
Harry’s next response was unintelligible and hissed into his ear. Draco moaned softly before he could stop himself. He supposed this was pay-back for earlier.
In a moment of incredible self-restraint he pulled away and sat far enough from Harry that he couldn’t even smell him. He needed to calm down before Carina, Hermione, and Weasley came back over. He wasn’t wearing his school robes-he couldn’t hide anything. And whether or not Harry had no shame, he did.
He heard Harry laughing and turned to scowl at him. This made him laugh harder.
“This isn’t over,” Harry said. Draco found himself thanking Merlin for making Harry so fucking sexy.
“I’m terrified, Potter.” This was a good thing to say, Draco decided, when a predatory gleam lit up Harry’s eyes.
Turning Harry on was definitely going to become his new hobby.
Link to Chapter Eleven
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Ten
Harry decided not to tell Draco about his and Carina's conversation. It felt private.
Nor did he confront Hermione. He decided he would let her think she'd successfully pulled a very Slytherin move without anyone finding out. She deserved it. Harry had Draco now.
For the next few weeks things went relatively well. Those who had attended Carina's birthday party said hello to her at every opportunity, though they did not bestow the same courtesy upon Draco, except Luna, who seemed to be the only one willing to forgive.
Harry could tell it made Draco uncomfortable. After all, Luna had been his prisoner for quite some time during the previous year.
Seamus and Dean had been odd. They'd finally asked Harry if it was true, if he was dating Malfoy, and when he'd said yes they'd both seemed to simply accept it. Dean, Harry sensed, felt a bit more hesitant, and he was certain it had something to do with the dungeons in Malfoy Manor as well.
Ginny was another story. She liked Carina-Harry could tell. But because she was still upset about losing Harry (and refused to talk to him) and disliked Draco, she was at least tactful enough not to fawn over Carina at all. Harry was grateful. While it clearly didn't make Draco happy that everyone else ignored him and not his daughter, he thought Ginny might have been too much.
He was also glad Draco had forgotten to bring up the bit about Kreacher that had come up during Carina's birthday party. He was anxious to avoid describing the way he'd kept tabs on him like a stalker sixth year.
On a Tuesday in the beginning of October the five of them made their way to Transfiguration, Carina's hand wrapped loosely around Harry's finger.
Ron and Hermione sat together at one desk and Harry, Draco, and Carina at another, Carina once again scribbling on a piece of parchment.
The new teacher, Professor Falldale, was in the middle of a supremely boring lecture when Harry felt a sudden warmth on his thigh. His eyes went wide and he looked down to see a pale hand resting just above his knee. When he looked up, he found Draco smirking, though he still seemed to be taking notes.
Harry subtly moved his hand on top of Draco's and squeezed lightly. He heard Draco chuckle.
"What are you doing?" Harry whispered, his eyes still on the professor.
"Taking notes," Draco replied casually. Harry couldn't decide whether to be annoyed, turned on, or amused.
"You're touching my leg."
"I like your leg."
Harry huffed. Again, Draco chuckled.
"Stop touching my leg."
"Hush, Harry, we're in class."
Harry's jaw dropped and he stared at Draco. He was such a cheeky little brat! And with his daughter sitting right next to him!
"Are you trying to cause a scene?"
"I'm not doing anything," Draco said, his smirk growing by the second. And then his hand moved higher so that it rested just below Harry's cock. Harry bit his lip.
"Draco!" he hissed.
But Draco didn't move his hand. As much as Harry begged and squirmed he kept his hand at a teasingly close distance to Harry's now-hard dick until class ended. When it did, everyone but Harry stood up. His cheeks were flaming and he was desperately trying to cool himself down.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione sighed, tapping her foot gently. "We're taking care of Carina, remember? Draco's seeing McGonagall."
The rest of the class stared only a bit more than they normally would, but, as it was Harry, the savior of them all, no one pried and no one asked questions.
"Yes, Harry, please try and move along. I don't wanna be late."
Harry glared at Draco. He took a deep breath, thanked Merlin for his school robes, and stood to leave the classroom with his friends.
Once outside Hermione picked Carina up and turned to Draco.
"How long is the meeting, do you know?"
"Not a clue," he said. Harry watched as Draco ran a hand through his already-perfect hair, wondering why he'd never before appreciated it. "I set the meeting up myself. I just wanted to discuss how things have been going and properly thank her for everything."
"That's sweet of you," Hermione said. "Alright, well good luck. We’ll take her outside. You wanted to play with the broom again, didn't you?" she asked Carina. Carina nodded enthusiastically.
"Be careful," Draco sighed, looking directly at Harry. Harry kissed him lightly on the mouth and smiled.
"I wouldn't let her get hurt. I'll see you later."
* * *
Draco knocked gently on the door to McGonagall’s office. A crisp “enter” could be heard on the other side a moment later.
She was sitting behind what Draco would always think of as Dumbledore’s desk, though he’d only been in the room a few times. She nodded in greeting and gestured for him to take a seat in the chair before the desk.
“Can I offer you anything to drink, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked. Draco shook his head. “Very well. What can I do for you?”
Draco suddenly felt a bit awkward. He’d never really thanked anyone for anything in his life-not something this big, anyway. He cleared his throat.
“I wanted to thank you again for allowing me to bring Carina to school, professor,” he said. He was surprised to see a small smile appear in place of the stern, straight-lipped expression she usually wore.
“It seems I was not mistaken in letting you do so. She’s not caused any trouble.” He could see her working back a smirk. It was a little ominous. Did McGongall smirk? “I must admit, Mr. Malfoy, you’ve done a fine job as a father so far.”
He felt the heat suddenly fill his face and knew he must have been Weasley-red.
“Thank you, professor,” he said quietly. There was a slight shift in the atmosphere and Draco could tell she was about to say something else embarrassing.
“I don’t know how appropriate this is to bring up,” she said, and he looked up, confused, “but you’ve proven that Mr. Potter did the right thing in vouching for you, Mr. Malfoy.”
He was sure he couldn’t have blushed more if she’d started speaking about his and Harry’s sex life.
Well…
“Thank you.” He hoped he wasn’t making too much of a fool out of himself, but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Ma’am,” he added quickly. She nodded.
“It was your daughter’s birthday recently, was it not?”
Draco’s eyebrows both shot up in surprise. “Er-yes” he said stupidly. “How did you know?”
She didn’t answer, merely smiled again, reminding him eerily of Dumbledore. “Tell her happy birthday.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Will that be all, then?”
Draco tried to run quickly through the things he’d been planning on saying in the meeting, but he kept drawing a blank. The unexpected demeanor of his previously stern professor had thrown him for a loop.
He could only nod.
“Good. I’m certain Mr. Potter does not want to teach broomstick lessons by himself.”
Draco had been about to stand up but found himself suddenly stuck to his chair, mouth open. When he realized what he was doing he quickly snapped his jaw shut. He desperately wanted to ask, but somehow knew better.
As he stood to leave his eyes wandered to the place where Dumbledore’s portrait hung, the old man seemingly in a deep slumber.
It could have been a trick of the light, but Draco could have sworn he saw Dumbledore’s lips twitch into a smile.
* * *
Draco sat down on the grass at the far end of the pitch and watched as Harry, Hermione, and Weasley helped Carina with her toy broomstick. Harry was in denims and a sweater and his hair was adorably windblown and Draco thought he looked delightful, especially when he took the tiny broomstick, stuck it between his legs, and showed Carina how to mount.
Draco couldn’t help laughing out loud at this last one. All four looked around at him and soon Carina was in his lap, giggling as though a very funny joke had just been told.
“Papa!”
“Hi, love,” he said with a smile. “Having fun?”
“Yes! Harry showed me how to sit on the broom!”
“I see that.” He looked up at Harry, who was walking over, the toy broomstick in hand. Draco nodded to him casually. “Looks like you’ve got this under control, eh?”
He could tell Harry was trying not to smile but he failed horribly, eventually letting himself laugh and rolling his eyes. He handed the broom to Carina.
“Go ask Ron to help you out,” he said. Carina happily took the broom and went running back to Weasley and Hermione, the ribbon holding her hair back flying out behind her. Draco smiled to himself, wondering not for the first time how he got so lucky with that kid.
Harry plopped down beside him in the grass and kissed his cheek. Draco raised a brow.
“Good mood?”
Harry scoffed but the smile stayed on his face.
“If you were looking for vomit-inducing affection I’m afraid you should have propositioned a Hufflepuff inst-”
“Shut the hell up,” Harry laughed, and he leaned over and kissed Draco directly on the mouth. When he pulled away Draco found himself startlingly close to Harry’s very green eyes and, quite embarrassingly, lost all train of thought for a moment. Harry stayed where he was, having seemed to notice that he’d captured Draco’s full attention.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly. Draco didn't speak, only continued to stare, seeing a million different things and having no idea what any of them meant.
“Have you ever realized,” he said, still staring, not sure where the words were coming from, “that your eyes are nearly the exact color of the Killing Curse?”
This close up he could clearly see Harry’s eyes go wide and he started to back away. Draco automatically reached out and grabbed his hand.
“No,” he said quickly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay,” Harry whispered. He didn’t sound angry. He was still staring at Draco, his brows knitted in confusion. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I shouldn’t have-”
“Draco.” Draco snapped his mouth shut and looked at Harry. “It’s okay.” But something wasn't okay.
“That bothered you.” He felt Harry tense up ever so slightly before he looked at the ground. The hand still under Draco’s slipped away and began playing with grass. Draco watched him intently.
Harry chewed on his lip for a while before speaking. “Do you think he’s … still inside of me? Even though he’s gone?”
Draco’s heart immediately began beating more quickly.
“What..?”
Harry ripped a clump of grass out of the ground and let the blades fall slowly through his fingers.
“Voldemort. Sometimes I think he’s still there.” He sighed and dropped the remainder of grass back onto the ground. “I know you don’t know anything about it, and it’s hard to explain, but … well, I shouldn’t still be able to speak Parseltongue, should I? If he’s not still inside of me?”
“Harry, what do you mean ‘inside of you’?” he asked, more sharply than he’d meant. It sounded disgusting. What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean, anyway?
“I can’t explain the whole thing,” Harry bit out. Draco could feel Harry’s temper rising. He hadn’t realized he was so attuned before-but that was probably because it’d been his goal in life to make Harry squirm. It had been his job to know if he was getting to the hot-headed Gryffindor. Now, though, it felt dangerous.
“Okay,” Draco said slowly. “Well, what do you mean you shouldn't still be able to speak Parseltongue? You’re a Parselmouth. You spoke to that snake second year. Why would it go awa-?”
“It was because of Voldemort!” Yes, Harry was definitely getting frustrated. Not at Draco, but in general. Still, though, with their past, he wasn’t so sure things couldn’t turn violent. And Carina was only half a pitch away. “He was a Parselmouth and there was a Horcrux inside of me so I could speak to snakes. But it’s gone! I shouldn’t be able to anymore!” He pounded the ground with his fist and Draco flinched. “Maybe Dumbledore was wrong,” he whispered. “Maybe it wasn’t just him.”
Draco carefully placed a hand on Harry’s back and, taking it as a good sign that nothing happened, scooted closer.
“Harry.” Draco took a breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I promise the Dark Lord is gone. I saw it happen four months ago.” And it was something he would never forget. That hadn’t been stupid little Gryffindor Potter-that had been Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He’d seemed like some kind of superhuman, calling the Dark Lord by his name like it wasn’t a big deal.
There was also the matter of the Elder wand, but Draco didn’t think bringing that up would do any good.
“I can still speak Parseltongue, Draco,” he whispered.
Draco was astounded. This thing with Parseltongue had clearly been bothering Harry. A lot. He didn’t know what to say, probably because he didn’t know the situation, but he had to say something.
“It’s just a language, Harry.” He rubbed Harry’s back soothingly and moved closer so he could kiss his cheek. “You don’t just forget a language.”
“It’s a hideous language.”
Actually… Draco thought, remembering how intrigued he’d been all those years ago. And suddenly he felt like he was twelve again. Would it be rude to ask him to do it..?
“I think it’s beautiful,” he tried. Harry looked over at him, clearly unhappy with that statement, though there was a hint of curiosity. Draco decided to play on it. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I know it’s associated with something bad, but… I don’t know. I think it’s a beautiful language.” He paused, gathering the nerve to ask. “Can you..?”
Harry stared at him in shock.
“You can’t be serious.” Draco shrugged. Harry’s mouth fell open. “You want me to speak Parseltongue? Why? Everyone hates it!”
“Well, pardon me for being the first Slytherin you’ve ever spoken to civilly,” he said, smirking in an attempt to lighten the mood. Harry watched him carefully before looking back at the ground and concentrating seemingly on nothing. Draco was about to ask when Harry started hissing.
He had no idea what in Merlin’s name was being said, but it may as well have been particularly arousing English for the way blood began filling his cock.
“Stop!” he nearly shouted, instinctively reaching out to grasp Harry’s arm. Harry stopped immediately and looked at Draco, worried.
“I told you,” he said angrily, but Draco shook his head. “What?” Draco’s heavy breathing must have given him away, because Harry’s eyes traveled down to Draco’s cock and went wide. A smile lit up his face instantaneously. Draco wished he could be proud of himself for helping Harry so hugely but he was too busy trying to cool himself down.
“You really do like that, huh?” he breathed, fascinated. Draco just managed to stop the hand that had moved toward his erection before it reached its destination.
“Not now.” Harry bit his lip and Draco had to hold back a groan.
“Let’s go inside.”
“We can’t just go inside!”
Harry moved so they were facing each other and put his cheek right beside Draco’s.
“But I really want you right now,” he whispered. Draco clenched his teeth.
“Not. Now,” he said sharply.
Harry’s next response was unintelligible and hissed into his ear. Draco moaned softly before he could stop himself. He supposed this was pay-back for earlier.
In a moment of incredible self-restraint he pulled away and sat far enough from Harry that he couldn’t even smell him. He needed to calm down before Carina, Hermione, and Weasley came back over. He wasn’t wearing his school robes-he couldn’t hide anything. And whether or not Harry had no shame, he did.
He heard Harry laughing and turned to scowl at him. This made him laugh harder.
“This isn’t over,” Harry said. Draco found himself thanking Merlin for making Harry so fucking sexy.
“I’m terrified, Potter.” This was a good thing to say, Draco decided, when a predatory gleam lit up Harry’s eyes.
Turning Harry on was definitely going to become his new hobby.
Link to Chapter Eleven