Starts With a Spin - Chapter 15
Um…yeah…so this is late. Heh. I have no excuses. *bows down* Please forgive me!
In any case, thank you all for waiting for so long! Hope the chapter is worth it. Only two left after this, so we’re almost done! ^.^ And I’ve got plans for a post-HBP fic that I really want to start writing, so I’m going to attempt to get these last chapters out quickly.
Beta’d by the ever-fabulous __goldie, as miints is off on an adventure somewhere in the vast wilderness (aka, she’s on a three-week camping trip). Thanks, love!!
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 15~~
Later that night, after Harry had been released from the hospital wing, he was resting in his four-poster bed and staring aimlessly at the crimson canopy above him when the curtains parted and a blurred red-headed figure appeared above him.
“Skipped dinner?” asked Ron as Harry shoved his glasses onto his face.
“Wasn’t hungry,” Harry mumbled, pulling himself into an upright position and sitting back against the headboard.
“How’s your head?”
“S’alright.” Harry peered closely at Ron. “Something the matter?” Ron sighed, biting his lip slightly.
“Mind if I join you?” Harry blinked and gestured at the bottom half of his bed for Ron to sit down.
“What’s up?” he asked again. Ron frowned, resting his chin on his fist.
“I’m worried about…about Hermione,” he said gruffly, and despite himself, Harry grinned.
“Are you now?” he said cheerfully. Ron blushed, but nodded.
“Yeah. She…I mean…what with her parents in danger and all…I think she needs someone around who she can…you know…go to for…for comfort,” he stammered. “Or…something like that.”
Harry quirked an eyebrow. “And you think that person should be you?” he clarified in an amused tone.
“Well…yes,” Ron said, looking somewhere in the direction of Harry’s left elbow. “I mean…if she wants. Obviously. I wouldn’t- I mean, it’s up to her, of course.” His eyes darted back to Harry’s. “Do you think she would?”
“Would what? Date you? Be your girlfriend?”
“Er…” Ron blushed again, dropping his gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, that.”
Harry was silent for a moment, and then he grinned. “Ron, you prat, of course she would!” he exclaimed, and Ron looked at him, startled.
“Seriously?”
“Well of course! She’s probably only been waiting for you to ask her since about fourth year.”
“You-you think so? Really?”
“Yes.” Harry shook his head, smiling. “Ron, you’ve both been dancing around each other for ages. It’s about time you did something about it.”
“And you don’t have a problem with this?”
“No, I…well…” Harry paused, eyebrows furrowed. “Well, as long as you don’t end up like Cho and I did-”
“Afraid to speak to each other, you mean?” Ron smirked.
“Yeah, like that. Then I’m fine with it.”
“You’re sure?” Ron asked.
“Haven’t you supported me throughout this entire thing with Draco?” Harry pointed out. “It would be completely unfair for me not to do the same for you. You and Hermione were made for each other.” Ron flushed at that, but grinned sheepishly, looking relieved.
“Well good. I was worried you’d be…um, uncomfortable with it. Maybe.”
“Nah,” Harry said, smiling a little. “Not a bit.”
Ron nodded gratefully and, looking more relaxed, he leaned back on his elbows. “How’s the thing with Draco going, anyhow?” he asked, drawing out Draco’s name like it was something particularly nasty. Which, Harry assumed, it probably was, to him. “Hermione says you’ve been having some problems lately. Hermione says, mind. Didn’t hear anything about it from you.” Ron gave Harry a slightly annoyed look.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…it feels odd, trying to talk about Draco with you. Not your fault.”
“But you don’t mind talking to Hermione about it?” Ron asked, sounding a little bit offended.
“I don’t go to her, trust me,” Harry said hastily. “She has a knack for knowing when something is wrong. She usually asks me about it and…well…hell, it’s Hermione! I mean, she was looking up safe sex spells for me when I hadn’t even thought of such a thing. It’s just how she is. Sometimes I think she’s more worried about the state of our relationship than I am…”
Ron was staring at him, wide-eyed. “She was looking up safe sex spells for you?” he repeated faintly. Harry nodded.
“I know,” he said. “She’s off her rocker.”
Ron laughed shortly. “That’s Hermione for you,” he said fondly. “Anyway, so what was wrong?”
“Just…stuff with the war,” Harry replied, frowning. “Basically I was pretending it didn’t exist and Draco was mad I was acting like we could forget about it.”
“I did notice that, actually. How we stopped talking about it whenever he came around.”
“Well…I mean, it’s not like we can talk about how much Lucius Malfoy deserves to get his soul sucked out five times over or something when Draco’s right there, you know?” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know how to handle it… And then he was mad I hadn’t told him about my scar.”
“Oh, so that’s why he seemed so surprised about it this morning.”
“Yeah.” They were silent for a few moments, Harry playing idly with the bed cover and Ron chewing his lip thoughtfully before speaking.
“Harry,” he began tentatively, frowning a little, “do you and Malfoy…I mean, obviously I’m not there when it’s just the two of you…but do you actually talk about much of anything?”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked quickly. “Of course we talk.”
“I always thought…that it was more of a-a physical thing. Sort of.” Harry frowned, and Ron hastened to continue. “Not that I’m saying you’re like…like-”
“Fuck-buddies?” Harry supplied, sounding terse.
“Er…yeah. I mean, there’s obviously more to it than that, but you spend an awful lot of time in the Room of Requirement. And other then sitting with us at meals, Malfoy’s not really around all that much and you’re usually with us otherwise-”
“Ok, I get it,” Harry snapped. He looked disgruntled. “We’re not just…I…we…there’s more to it than the physical stuff,” he finally said firmly, even though his mind was going in circles suddenly. Hadn’t Draco basically said the same thing? Of course they’d been fighting at the time… And it’s not like they were at liberty to just go waltzing down to Hogsmeade for a proper date. There just weren’t a lot of options, really.
“Sorry,” Ron said softly.
“S’fine,” Harry murmured, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “It’s just…Draco said the same thing and I’m beginning to wonder…”
“Why do you like him?” Ron asked curiously. Harry shrugged, looking away.
“Sometimes I’m not sure,” he said, smirking a little. “He can be such a git at times.”
“At times?” Ron repeated incredulously. “Try always.”
Harry grinned. “Nah, he just…well, frankly he just doesn’t like you. And you don’t like him, but I wasn’t expecting that to change.”
Ron snorted. “Good,” he said, and paused for a second before continuing. “You know, I’m still half expecting you to end up with Ginny one day or something. It’s still hard to believe you’re with Malfoy of all people.”
“Ginny’s with Dean, Ron,” Harry said, smiling. Then he shoved Ron a bit, saying impishly, “And redheads aren’t my type, anyhow.”
“Good thing, that,” Ron said, laughing. “I’ll soon be off the market, in any case. Hopefully,” he added as an afterthought. He peered at Harry for a second. “You really like it?”
“Like what?” Harry asked lazily, crossing his arms behind his head and sinking further into his pillows.
“Like…um…you know.” Ron made some crude gestures with his hands, and Harry’s eyes widened. “Doing…it.”
“It?” Harry laughed. “What are you, twelve?”
Ron blushed slightly. “Sex, then,” he said, rolling his eyes. Harry paused.
“Are we really going to have this conversation?” he asked skeptically. Ron looked determined.
“Yes. I’m curious.” Harry nearly choked on his own spit.
“Not too curious, I hope,” he managed to say. “You’re supposed to be asking Hermione out.”
Ron’s eyes widened. “No!” he exclaimed. “I’m not curious like that- well, I guess I sort of am. If you like it, I mean. Because…well…I can’t even imagine… But also…it’s just…I mean I haven’t even kissed someone properly and you’ve gone all the way and honestly, that’s really not fair at all but now I’m wondering what it’s like. Not that I didn’t wonder before but-”
“It’s good,” Harry cut in, amused, before Ron got too carried away and babbled on for the remainder of the night. “It’s…it’s fantastic. It’s...”
“Perfect?” Ron suggested. Harry laughed.
“No, it’s hardly perfect. Sex is…well…messy. You get sweaty and sticky, and you have to be careful or it hurts. Well, for boys, at least. I imagine it might be the same for a girl.”
“It hurts?” Ron asked blankly.
“Well…” Harry paused, nose wrinkling as he scratched idly at his ear. “I mean, think about it. I never did until Seamus told me to. If you’ve never…if nothing’s ever been-” he waved his hand vaguely, “-up there…then yeah, it hurts at first.”
“Then why do it?”
“Well it’s not like it’s torture the entire time. And even though it’s not perfect…just being that close to another person, feeling like…like…I mean, when they’re inside of- er…hmm…” Harry paused abruptly, blushing. “Well, I suppose you won’t ever experience that part,” he said, grinning sheepishly, and Ron chuckled despite himself. “But the other way’s good, too,” Harry continued. “When you’re the one in charge, and it’s up to you to make sure your partner enjoys it and when they do and they look at you and suddenly you’re the only two people in the entire world and nothing else matters…” He trailed off, eyes glazing over, and when he spoke again it was like he’d forgotten Ron was even there. “And for that moment, even if it’s actually only a few seconds, it seems like it goes on for hours and you wish that it could be hours…that it would never end and you could just stay there, like that, with him and no one else…just being together. And it does feel amazing, you’ve never felt anything so exhilarating…so intense…”
“…Wow,” Ron said softly and Harry blinked, coming back to himself and looking around at Ron.
“It can’t just be physical,” he said suddenly. “There’s no way… I was there when it was physical. The first time, when I couldn’t have cared less if he enjoyed it or not, because I was too caught up in how it felt for me. I didn’t even realize it was horrible for him until it was all over. And he’s always been careful with me. Just because we like doing it and we do it often doesn’t mean that sex is all our relationship is about!”
“You want to have your epiphanies a little louder next time, Harry?” someone said, and suddenly Harry’s bed curtains were shoved apart and Seamus poked his head through. “I don’t think the girls’ side of the dormitories heard you.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, startled. “I was that loud?”
“Oh yes,” Seamus replied. “What’s all this, then? Ah, I know.” He grinned. “Is Ron doing the typical best friend I’m-curious-about-gay-sex-now thing?” Ron scowled, blushing a little, and Harry snickered.
“Actually no,” he answered. “It was more just an I’m-curious-about-any-type-of-sex thing.”
“Harry!” Ron exclaimed, but Seamus nodded sagely, clearly trying not to grin.
“Of course, of course,” he said, sounding a bit like Ernie Macmillan. “Dean did the same thing after all. Course he’s got Ginny now,” he added impishly, “so I’m sure he’s since figured things out.”
“I’ll kill him,” Ron said at once. “What do you mean he’s figured things out? He’d better not have figured anything out!”
“Ron! No, really, Ron,” Seamus said, trying to grab hold of Ron’s shoulders to keep him from going searching for Dean. “Ron, I was joking. Harry, you’re not helping!” he said to the other boy, who was laughing loudly at the look on Ron’s face.
“I’ll let you deal with him,” Harry said, still chuckling, and he slid off the bed and opened his trunk. Grabbing his cloak and a familiar piece of parchment, he headed out of the dorms and didn’t pause until he was standing in the quiet corridor outside of the Gryffindor common room. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” he said softly, pointing his wand at the parchment, and then he watched as the detailed map of Hogwarts appeared on its surface. “Now,” Harry said, stuffing his wand into the back of his jeans, “where are you, Draco?”
* * *
Even though he’d used it an innumerable amount of times, Harry would never stop being amazed at how very detailed the Marauder’s Map was. He was especially thankful for it now, because he hadn’t been to the Prefects’ bathroom since before winter break, and the password had apparently changed somewhere along the line. After speaking the word that popped up in the bubble that appeared by the little dot labeled Harry Potter, Harry entered the spacious bathroom knowing that Draco was the only person inside.
The bathtub was already filled to the brim, a variety of foam and bubbles floating gently atop the water’s surface. Draco was nowhere to be seen, but Harry wasn’t worried about that at the moment. He dropped his cloak and toed off his shoes, leaving them, along with his socks, wand, and the map, in a pile by the door, and crept silently over to the pool’s edge.
He was still standing there, peering down into the water, when Draco broke through the surface a couple feet away. Harry blinked, watching as Draco tilted his head back and pushed his hair back from his face. Tiny rivulets ran down his shoulders and gleamed off his pale skin, and Harry’s eyes widened a bit as his jaw went slack-
“Harry!” Blinking again, Harry’s mouth snapped shut with a click, and he grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he said unabashedly as Draco scowled and ducked down in the water. Harry laughed. “Are you hiding from me?” he asked, still chuckling. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a bath!” Draco snapped, and Harry couldn’t tell if the flush in his cheeks was from the humidity in the air or because he was embarrassed. “What are you doing?”
“Watching you take a bath,” Harry answered simply. “Problem?” Draco frowned, slowly straightening up again.
“Well, no…” He jerked suddenly, looking at Harry. “Are you supposed to be wandering about? How’s your head?” he asked quickly.
“Fine, fine,” Harry replied, waving him off. “I told you Madame Pomfrey healed me right away.”
“So why are you here then?” Draco asked, wading over towards where Harry was standing. He looked up at him. Harry smiled.
“Just wanted to see you.”
“Ahh.” Draco smirked. “Enjoying the view?”
“Oh yes,” Harry nodded, “quite.”
“You’re not supposed to be in here, you know,” Draco said slyly, quirking as eyebrow at his boyfriend. “I should give you detention.”
Harry ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Don’t want to punish me yourself?” he quipped. Draco snorted.
“Why are you still fully clothed?”
“Haven’t had a chance to get undressed yet.”
“Well hurry it up, then,” Draco said impatiently.
“Eager, much?” Harry said, but he was grinning as pulled his shirt off over his head. The movement left his hair tousled and glasses askew, and Draco snickered at him. “No one else is in here?”
“Would it be a problem if someone was? We’re only taking a bath, aren’t we?” Draco asked, feigning innocence as he absently trailed his fingers through the water.
Harry raised his eyebrows. “If you want,” he said airily.
Draco smirked. “It’s not usually crowded this early on a Friday night,” he said, answering Harry’s question. “It’s likely we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“Oh good,” Harry said, and he unsnapped the button on his trousers and let them fall around his feet. Draco stared at him blankly for a few seconds.
“That’s the most hideous pair of underwear I’ve ever seen,” he said faintly, staring at the garish orange of Harry’s boxers. “Are those snitches? I wasn’t aware they made boxers like that for anyone over the age of nine.” Harry blushed slightly.
“Christmas present from Fred and George,” he mumbled, hooking his thumbs under the elastic band. “A joke, of course.”
“Of course,” Draco repeated. “I don’t ever want to see them again.” Harry rolled his eyes.
“Right. And I shall of course obey your every whim.”
“Right you shall,” Draco said, lifting his chin a bit as a grin worked its way onto his face.
Of course it was at that point, because unfortunately this was the type of luck Harry had been blessed with outside of near-death situations, that the bathroom door creaked open and a regrettably very familiar voice shrieked, “Harry!” Harry spun around, wide-eyed, as Draco squawked and submerged himself in the nearly-clear bath water.
“H-Hermione!” Harry spluttered, quickly yanking his jeans back up as high as they would go around his waist.
“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed again, clutching her bath robe tightly around her body as she stared at her friend in shock.
“Granger,” Draco growled, pressing his body flush against the side of the bath and quickly turning on the first faucet his hand found. Thick blue foam poured out around him.
“Malfoy?” Hermione asked incredulously, blinking and turning to the other boy.
“Draco,” Harry reminded her needlessly.
“Draco,” Hermione corrected herself quickly, nodding and rolling her eyes a bit.
“Harry!” Draco said urgently, ducking again so that only his face was visible above the soap suds.
“Er…” Harry said helpfully, looking back and forth between the two of them.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “Harry, what are you doing in here? Well, actually, I guess I needn’t ask.” She quirked her eyebrow at Draco, who went slightly pink and lowered himself yet further into the bubbles so that only his eyes could be seen.
“Um, Hermione, why are you here?” Harry asked nervously, still clutching his jeans tightly.
“To take a bath, of course,” his friend replied. “Though I suppose I’ll have to make do with a shower now.” She grinned and turned to go through a different door, calling over her shoulder, “And I can’t believe you’re wearing those boxers, Harry. Didn’t I tell you and Ron they were awful?” Draco shot Harry an accusatory look.
“She’s seen them before?” he hissed. Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Well, she did stay at the Weasleys over break, you know.”
“Right,” Draco said doubtfully. Harry rolled his eyes.
“Where did she go?” he asked, not entirely familiar with the layout of the Prefects’ bathroom aside from the bath itself.
“The shower room’s back that way,” Draco replied. “Now would you hurry up? I’m getting all wrinkly.” He held up his hands to examine them properly, scowling a bit.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Harry murmured. He threw another look over his shoulder, and then swiftly removed his jeans and boxers and jumped into the bath in one fluid motion. Draco snickered.
“Nice,” he said.
“Shut up,” Harry muttered, blushing. Then suddenly his arms were full of gloriously wet and naked Draco and his back was up against the edge of the bath and grey eyes were very close to his own.
“Make me,” Draco whispered, and Harry went about doing that, kissing Draco softly at first, and then more firmly as he ran his tongue across the other boy’s bottom lip. Draco opened up eagerly for him and the kiss deepened.
And then the bathroom door opened again and Harry and Draco reluctantly parted, though they didn’t release their hold on one another because, frankly, they were too caught up in the moment to give a damn if anyone saw them together.
“Oh, really now. Of all the places- Need I remind you that you’re not even a Prefect, Potter?” Harry groaned and Draco scowled at someone behind Harry.
“Do shut up, Pansy,” he said irritably. “Harry and I will do whatever we like, wherever we like. We don’t need your permission.”
“Yes, obviously,” Pansy grinned, shaking her short hair out of her eyes. Footsteps echoed throughout the bathroom and Harry turned around in time to see Hermione reappear, her hair pinned up above her neck and nothing but a towel wrapped around her body.
“Harry, I meant to ask you if something was bothering Ron. He’s been acting funny all day and he’s barely said a word to me- Oh!” She paused mid-stride, grinning. “Pansy! Come to join the party?”
“Evening, Hermione,” Pansy said, smiling easily. “And actually, speaking of parties, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Well you can do it away from here,” Draco said grumpily, reaching for the faucet and making sure there was an ample amount of foam surrounding himself and Harry. “We were a bit occupied before you two decided to ruin our night. Although,” he laughed shortly, “I suppose you’ve made it a habit to invade Harry’s and my personal lives.” Harry chuckled.
“All we need now is for Moaning Myrtle to pop up as well,” he said absently, slipping his hands beneath the water and pulling Draco hips close to his own, unseen by Pansy and Hermione. Draco blinked, cheeks going pink, and breathed in slowly.
“Does she do that?” he asked, carefully avoiding Harry’s eyes as the boy slid his hands up Draco’s thighs. He grasped the edge of the bath behind Harry when one of those hands curled loosely around his cock.
“She spied on me in fourth year,” Harry replied. He tilted his head back to look at the bathroom’s other occupants, appearing for all intents and purposes as if it were perfectly normal for him to be not only bathing in front of one of his best friends, but giving his boyfriend a handjob right under her nose. “You were saying, Pansy?” He tightened his fist around Draco, and the boy’s chest jerked as he fought to control his breathing.
“Oh, right. Well, I was thinking-”
“Surprise, surprise,” Draco muttered, leaning so close against Harry that he was practically resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder.
“-I was thinking,” Pansy said again, glaring at Draco, “isn’t it about time to start up the Saturday parties again?” Draco’s eyes widened and Harry paused. They both looked at Pansy incredulously.
“Whatever would we want to do that for?” Draco asked, but Hermione was grinning widely.
“I was thinking the same thing!” she exclaimed. “A lot of people have been asking about it. Hannah Abbot came up to me just today and was wondering if we had anything planned for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Harry asked, startled. “There’s no way you can get something planned that quickly.”
“Of course we can,” Pansy said. She eyed the two boys. “Do you have something against this?”
“Well… I mean, why, for one,” Harry said. “What’s the point?”
“The point?” Pansy reiterated. Her brow furrowed, and then a look of realization crossed her face. “Ooohh. I see. You both think that just because you’re finally together, it means there no reason for the rest of us to have a good time, is that it?”
“Well if having a good time means at our expense, then yes!” Draco said. Harry smiled at him and began moving his hand again, pulling at Draco’s cock in long, languid strokes. Draco shuddered once against him, eyes squeezing shut, and then he forced himself to look at Pansy again. “You can…you can find someone else to exploit…this time around,” he said, gasping slightly. Pansy looked at them for a few more seconds, and then she burst out laughing.
“You’re serious?” she gasped through her laugher. “You think… Oh, wow. Talk about your oversized egos.” Harry blinked, and glanced at Hermione questioningly. She shrugged, grinning.
“You didn’t honestly think we’d still keep daring you two to do stuff, did you?” she asked. “You might have noticed it sort of died down. You both took things into your own hands and frankly, it was getting old.” Draco looked vaguely insulted by that, so Harry distracted him some more by quickening the motions of his hand. Draco’s jaw clenched shut as he tried not to groan aloud. Harry felt the muscles in his thighs tighten against him.
“And besides,” Pansy added, “It was scaring a lot of people off. How raunchy we were getting…” She snickered, and Hermione blushed a bit.
“No more truth or dare then?” Harry asked. Pansy shrugged.
“Well I don’t see why not. Just…maybe not to the same degree. And if we keep using the Room of Requirement, we’ll be able keep the music and the big room and people will be able to split up and do whatever they want.”
“It’s just an excuse for everyone to get together, really,” Hermione said. “And you remember what the sorting hat said-”
“Yeah, yeah, house unity,” Harry interrupted. “I get it.”
“I wonder if I should make Blaise try to get a hold of some firewhiskey,” Pansy mused. “Or maybe some mead this time.”
“H-Harry,” Draco whined quietly, practically flattening Harry against the side of the bath now. Harry grinned and ignored him, but kept his hand moving.
“I’m sure Seamus will let us use some of his stash,” he said, warming up to the idea.
“Will that be a bit much for the first party?” Hermione asked. Pansy shook her head.
“I don’t think so,” she said, and then added softly, “I think people will be looking for an excuse to get smashed, what with what’s been happening…” Hermione nodded, and the bathroom fell silent for a few seconds, save for the quickening gasps of breath coming from Draco.
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Draco, are you quite alright?”
Draco groaned without meaning to, biting his lip, and avoided looking at anyone. His cheeks were bright pink. Pansy and Hermione seemed to realize at the same time what was happening.
“Harry!” squeaked Hermione at the same time Pansy burst out with an exasperated, “Potter! Merlin, you could at least wait until we’re out of the room!”
“Harry, if I were Ron, would you still be doing that?” Hermione asked in annoyance, propping her fists up on her waist.
Harry grinned unabashedly at her. “If you were Ron you wouldn’t be standing there watching us bathe together. You’d have turned tail and run away a long while ago.”
“Touché,” Pansy murmured, smirking. “Alright then, we’ll leave. Come on Hermione.” The two girls left for the showers, shaking their heads and muttering to one another. They’d barely disappeared through the doors before Draco grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him fiercely, thrusting freely into his hand for merely a few seconds before coming with a muffled moan against Harry’s mouth.
“Fuck,” he exclaimed as he pulled back and wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “Payback for the…for the Potions incident…I assume?” Draco asked, panting. Harry’s eyebrows rose.
“Already got you for that one,” he reminded him. “Just can’t keep my hands off you, is all.”
“Apparently not,” Draco murmured. “Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same. Hop up,” he ordered, patting the side of the bath behind Harry.
“What?”
“Sit on the ledge.”
“But…” Harry glanced worriedly over his shoulder toward the shower room. Draco rolled his eyes.
“Just do it.”
“I don’t-”
“Do it.”
“But, I-”
“Harry,” Draco said warningly. Harry sighed.
“Fine,” he muttered, and with a final backwards glance, he pushed himself up to the ledge. Draco descended on him before Harry could properly right himself out, and he gasped and fell forward, clutching Draco’s shoulders as Draco ran his tongue along the underside of Harry’s cock. His eyes widened. Draco grinned and swallowed him completely, sucking lightly as he pulled back.
“Oh God,” Harry gasped, and then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. “Fuck,” he continued, voice muffled now as his eyes squeezed shut as well. “Draco.” Draco hummed low in his throat as he moved and Harry jerked, panting, and tried to hold any sounds that threatened to escape him at bay. Then Draco’s hand came up and gently wrapped around his balls, and Harry groaned loudly. “Draco,” he hissed again. “Don’t…nggh…ahh….f-fuck…” Draco’s eyes widened innocently and he tightened his grip. Harry’s back arched and his head fell back as he sucked in a breath.
“For the love of Merlin!” Pansy’s annoyed voice yelled from the other room, echoing off the walls. “Would you at least put up a fucking silencing charm?!” Draco chuckled around Harry’s cock, and Harry swore under his breath.
“S-sorry!” he tried to say, but his voice cracked partway through the apology. Then Draco sucked again, his teeth barely grazing Harry’s skin, and Harry caved. Nearly shoving his entire fist into his mouth, he came hard down Draco’s throat, stifling his moans as much as he possibly could. Draco pulled away with a smug look on his face.
“There you go,” he said, smirking. “We’re even again.” Harry panted, looking at him through fringe that fell damply into his eyes.
“Arse,” he muttered.
“Prat,” Draco returned, smirking. “I’d get back in the water before Granger decides to interrupt us again or something.” Harry nodded, lazily sliding off the edge of the bath. Then he pulled Draco towards him and kissed him softly, and Draco grinned against his lips.
They were still wrapped around each other when Pansy and Hermione left the bathroom a little while later.
* * *
The Room of Requirement looked much the same as it had the night of their last party, except the long tables full of food were absent. Various cushions and chairs took their place, and when Harry saw the amount of sixth year students occupying them, he began to realize just how important these parties had become. It was such a relief for them to have at least one night a week where they could pretend Voldemort wasn’t wreaking havoc on the world, both wizard and muggle alike. Faces that had been etched with worry and fear were smiling carelessly, laughing… People were dancing, getting lost in the music, lost in a place where, for just a moment, death wasn’t looming around the corner.
Harry sipped thoughtfully on the drink Draco had just handed to him, and then gagged. “What-what the hell did you give me?” he spluttered, wiping his mouth absently.
“Mead,” Draco shrugged, drinking his own. “It’s a party, Potter. A time for joy and happiness and celebration and all that rot. Cheers,” he said flatly.
“I thought Pansy said the alcohol was only for the games,” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s bored look.
“Yeah, well,” Draco grinned suddenly, “Our good friend Seamus lent us some.”
“Our good friend?” Harry asked, eying Draco suspiciously. Draco shrugged.
“I believe he might be a tad drunk already,” he said dryly, gesturing off to the side. Harry glanced around and saw Seamus hanging all over Justin Finch-Fletchley, who looked amused. “He’s happily pouring drinks for…ahh…anyone who’s queer and here and desperately wants a beer,” Draco continued, adding an Irish twang to his words. Harry nearly snorted his mead up his nose.
“H-he s-s-said that, did he?” he coughed, laughing. Draco rolled his eyes.
“Got us free alcohol, in any case. Cheers,” he said again in a more cheerful tone, and he and Harry clinked glasses.
“Oy, Draco!” someone called, and Blaise was suddenly standing in front of them. “Pansy sent me around to find out who all’s interested in playing I’ve Never,” he said. “You two up for it? I want to get started already, I’m dying for a drink. I-…hang on…” Blaise peered closely at Draco’s glass. “Where’d you get that?” he demanded. “I’ve been trying to bully Crabbe and Goyle into stealing me one of the bottles, but they don’t listen to me like they used to listen to you…” Draco smirked and tipped his head in Seamus’ direction.
“Finnigan,” he replied. “But don’t try asking him for any. He’s demanding a snog for every glass.”
“What?!” Harry snapped his head around to stare at Draco. “You didn’t tell me that!” Draco rolled his eyes.
“A snog from anyone who he isn’t sure is actually gay,” he amended. Blaise chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip, looking longingly at Harry and Draco’s drinks. “Oh, come off it!” Draco smirked. “You’ll have your own soon enough. We’re playing now, aren’t we?”
“Oh…oh, right.” Blaise nodded. “Of course. Right. Come on, then. Let’s play. Right now. We need to start.” Harry chuckled, and he and Draco followed Blaise over to another corner of the room.
“Harry!” Seamus exclaimed as they approached, and he flung himself at his friend. “Harry! Do you want some mead? I’ve got a whole bottle to myself, but don’t tell anyone!” he said loudly, so of course everyone in the nearby vicinity heard anyway. “Everyone’s trying to steal it. Only those who fancy boys though, I said. No one else!”
“Well I fancy boys,” said Daphne Greengrass, who was lounging on a cushion a few feet away. Seamus eyed her in confusion.
“No, I…Um…Boys. Boys who fancy boys,” he corrected himself, stumbling over the words. He turned back to Harry, abruptly forgetting the interruption. “And Ron tried to get a free drink because he’s a Gryffindor and he thought that was a good enough reason, but I told him, I told him no. I said I was pretty positive he fancied Hermione and not boys and he would have to prove it if he wanted a drink.” Harry was listening in amusement, and he glanced around trying to find Ron. The boy was sitting across the circle, scowling at nothing in particular.
“And what did he say to that?” Harry asked indulgently, grinning.
“Well he wanted to know how he should prove it, obviously,” Seamus continued eagerly, as if this was the latest gossip he’d heard down at the pub or something. “And I told him I would have to snog him and then I tried to, but he didn’t like that very much. Shied away before I could catch him, you know. Then he got all in a huff and demanded to know why I’d given some to Dean.”
“And why did you?”
“Such a riveting story,” Draco muttered sarcastically. Harry absently pinched his arm. Draco slapped his hand away.
“Well because I snogged him, of course!” said Seamus obliviously. Harry’s eyes went wide and Draco snorted.
“Dean’s going out with Ginny, though,” Harry pointed out. Seamus shrugged.
“Funny, Ron said the same thing. With a bit more swearing. I told him it didn’t mean anything. I snog everyone, you know.” Then, as if to prove his point, Seamus lunged forward and planted a kiss sloppily on Harry’s lips. Half a second later, Seamus was stumbling backwards and Draco was standing between he and Harry, arm still outstretched from where he’d pushed him away.
“I don’t think so, Finnigan,” he practically growled. “Unless some very stupid person dares you to, you will not be snogging Harry.” Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist.
“My hero,” he quipped, and then glanced at his fellow Gryffindor. “Sorry, Seamus.” Seamus grinned and waved him off.
“S’fine, s’fine,” he said happily.
“I’ll snog you, Finnigan!” Blaise said, somewhat desperately. Seamus beamed.
“No need for that, Blaise,” said Pansy, as she finally appeared with various bottles in her arms. “We’re starting now.”
* * *
The game progressed smoothly, its players indulging themselves with various inane admissions and drinking themselves silly. By the time they’d gone through three rounds, everyone playing was feeling happily buzzed, and they graduated onto Truth or Dare. More people from the dance floor joined, and soon they had a fairly large group of sixth years playing.
Harry and Draco had somehow separated themselves from the group a bit; they were sitting farther back from the circle, leaning against one of the walls. Draco had just downed what remained of his mead (they’d switched to Firewhiskey shots for I’ve Never), and he let out a contented sigh once he was done. Harry’s hand was resting on his knee, absently stroking back and forth, and Draco followed its movement with his eyes before abruptly shoving it away.
“What-?” Harry started to say, but Draco was shifting around and suddenly Harry found himself with a lapful of Draco’s head, since apparently the boy had decided to use it as a pillow. Draco moved Harry’s hand to his head.
“Stroke,” he commanded, eyes sliding shut.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not difficult, really.”
“No, I know, but-”
“Pansy does it sometimes, you want me to go back to her?” Harry rolled his eyes, and set about running his fingers gently through Draco’s hair.
“Like that?” he asked. Draco murmured contentedly, and Harry chuckled. “You’re like a giant cat,” he said.
“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”
“No need to tell, everyone’s already watching us.”
“Oh. Well, sod them.”
“Thought you’d say that.”
“Know me that well, do you?” Draco smirked. He reached up before Harry could answer, and pulled the boy down into a sloppy, openmouthed kiss.
“Hey, Malfoy!” Draco pulled back, eyes opening in annoyance, and turned his head in Harry’s lap so that he was facing the rest of the group.
“Yes?” he asked Zacharias Smith irritably.
“Truth or dare?”
“Oh.” Draco paused, considering. “Truth, I suppose.” He was too comfortable to have to move around at the moment to do a dare. Harry’s hand was still stroking his hair.
“Because Justin’s curious and too embarrassed to ask you himself,” Zacharias drawled, “what do you like better: topping or bottoming?”
“Bottoming,” Draco replied promptly, and then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “Bollocks,” he mumbled as Harry broke out in laughter.
“I knew it,” Harry said, grinning. Draco glared at him.
“Truth or dare, Harry?” he snapped.
“Truth,” Harry replied, still grinning.
“Which do you prefer?” Harry opened his mouth to reply…but nothing came out.
“Er…” he said instead. Then he laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told you I liked both, didn’t I? Guess I can’t choose…”
“Figures,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. Harry ignored him and looked around the circle.
“Ron,” he called, spotting his friend sitting with Neville and, of all people, Pansy. “Truth or dare?” Ron eyed him suspiciously.
“I’ll say dare, but only because I trust you, Harry,” he said. Harry smiled widely.
“I dare you to snog Hermione,” he said, finding his other friend who was sitting with some of the Ravenclaw girls. She looked at him, wide-eyed.
“How utterly predictable,” Draco quipped. “Have at it then, Weasel. Go crazy.”
“For…for h-how long?” Ron asked nervously, ignoring Draco and looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione.
“As long as you want, Ron,” Harry said cheerfully.
“Yes, and Harry and I will join you,” Draco drawled, and then he pulled Harry back down to meet him as Ron crawled across the circle to an anxious looking Hermione. “Harry,” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips and meeting his eyes.
“Draco?” Harry asked curiously.
“Harry, can I…can I stay with you tonight?”
Harry sucked in a breath, eyes going wide. “You’re not asking because you’re drunk, are you?” he asked faintly. “Because that’s what happened last time…” Draco shook his head.
“M’not drunk, just comfortably buzzed and perfectly capable of thinking rationally,” he said. Harry stared at him for a few more seconds, and then he beamed.
“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Yes, yes, you can definitely sleep with me. Stay in my room. Whatever.” Draco snickered.
“Just sleep though, alright? For now.”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, whatever you want,” he said excitedly.
“What if I want to go now?” Draco asked, a yawn puncturing the sentence. “I’m tired.” It was contagious, and Harry found himself yawning too. Most of the room had cleared out already, aside from the large group that was playing Truth or Dare.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Let’s go now.”
* * *
Sleeping in Harry’s room was a lot easier than Draco had thought it would be, but perhaps that was just the alcohol speaking.
Of course he wasn’t sure why he’d thought it would be difficult in the first place…
Maybe it was because they were the only two in the room when they crawled into Harry’s bed. Possibly it was because the closed curtains gave them an ample amount of privacy. Perhaps it was the mead, making him feel lazy and drowsy and happy to fall asleep just about anywhere.
But mostly he figured it was because he’d never been as comfortable, not even in his own king-sized bed back at Malfoy manor, as he was when Harry’s arm wrapped around his waist and the bare skin of his chest pressed warmly against Draco’s naked back.
Draco awoke rather abruptly at some point during the night, and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. It took a few more seconds for him to realize that Harry’s presence against his back was gone, and that someone was moving around rather restlessly beneath the sheets beside him.
Rolling over, Draco tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Too impatient to wait that long, he leaned over and grabbed his wand off of Harry’s bedside table.
“Lumos,” he muttered quietly, blinking in the sudden light. Then he looked down at his bed partner.
Harry was pale beneath the soft glow of Draco’s wand. His forehead looked damp and his hair was sticking to it, and there was a light sheen on his sweat-slicked chest. His hands clenched the sheets tightly in their grip, and half of the covers were twisted around his fretfully kicking legs. But the look on Harry’s face was what shot through Draco like a jolt, causing him to nearly drop his wand. He fumbled with it for a few seconds, Harry’s gasping breaths roaring in his ears, and as soon as he had it in a solid grip in one hand, he immediately began shaking Harry with his other.
“Harry!” he whispered harshly, shaking the boy’s shoulder. Harry’s eyes squeezed even more tightly shut and his face screwed up against the light of Draco’s wand. “Harry, wake up! Come on, wake up wake up wake up!” Draco pleaded, shaking Harry again. “Harry.”
Harry’s eyes shot open suddenly and he gasped, panting, his chest heaving quickly. Draco kept his hand on Harry’s shoulder, watching worriedly as Harry slowly calmed down and took in his surroundings.
“D…Draco?” he asked in a small voice.
“I’m right here,” Draco replied quickly. Harry’s eyes focused blearily on him, as he wasn’t wearing his glasses.
“You woke me up,” Harry said, blinking. Draco flushed a little under his gaze and slowly lay back down on his pillow.
“I…yeah. Yeah. Sorry- should I not have?” he asked, feeling nervous for no apparent reason.
“No,” Harry reached for Draco and curled his body around him, clutching at his arms with slightly shaking hands. “No, I’m glad you did. I don’t… I mean, it’s not their fault, but-but the others don’t know unless I fall out of bed or something. So…so I usually have to wake myself up. Or just…stay there…”
“Stay…where?” Draco asked apprehensively. Harry was quiet for a long moment before he answered.
“Voldemort’s mind,” he whispered finally. Draco stiffened. “It actually hasn’t happened as often this year as it did last year,” Harry continued. “I imagine now that he’s realized I’m there, he can easily keep me out. But sometimes I think he wants me to see things…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Draco watched him, noticing the movement for what it really was now.
“Scar bothering you?” he asked. Harry nodded.
“A little. S’not bad.”
“What happened tonight?”
Harry sighed. “I imagine there’ll be a big report in the Daily Prophet tomorrow,” he murmured. Draco sighed as well, feeling confused. He idly traced his fingers along Harry’s back. “Thank you for waking me up,” Harry repeated, words slurring slightly as he began to fall asleep again.
“You’re welcome,” Draco answered softly, but he was fairly certain his words had gone unheard, as Harry was already snoring lightly again.
* * *
And so the weeks passed. The war raged on outside, and the Daily Prophet brought continuous stories of death and murder, but inside Hogwarts life remained very much the same. Classes continued, as did Quidditch practices, though the latter was now supervised by at least three teachers at a time. The sixth years continued having their parties, as the Room of Requirement became the one place where they could escape from reality every Saturday. And Draco continued sleeping in Harry’s room.
It wasn’t something that happened every night, or rarely even every other night. Usually on the weekends, or perhaps the night after a particularly bad attack, Draco and Harry would curl up together in one of their beds, because Harry had taken to visiting the Slytherin dorms now as well. That was a little bit more of a hassle than Draco coming to Gryffindor, mainly because Goyle put up such a fuss about it and had threatened to inform Professor Snape on several occasions.
On the first Friday of March, a night that Draco was spending in Gryffindor tower, Harry awoke so abruptly that he’d managed to sit up in bed and grab his wand in a defensive motion before he’d really even realized that he was awake.
“Harry?” Draco croaked from beside him, rolling over to peer tiredly up at him. “Nightmare again?” Harry didn’t answer. He was still trying to calm his breathing, and he was frantically trying to remember what he had just seen. It was something important, very important, he knew it… “Harry?” Draco asked again, sounding worried now as he sat up as well.
“Something happened,” Harry said bluntly, staring hard into the darkness around him.
“What do you mean?”
“Voldemort. He…he…I don’t know. Something. Something big. Someone I-” Harry’s eyes went wide. “Someone I knew? Maybe. Or I recognized who it was. Or something.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Draco said worriedly. His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you knew them?”
“I don’t know if I did,” Harry answered absently. “I think I’d...seen them before. But never really talked to them… But that’s not- I mean, something huge has happened. But I can’t remember!” Growling in frustration, Harry dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Damn it!” Draco frowned. Harry rarely got this worked up over one of his trips into the Dark Lord’s mind. “It was bad,” Harry continued. “Really bad.”
“Well there’s not much you can do about it,” Draco said. He fell back against the mattress and rolled over so that his back was facing Harry. “Might as well go back to sleep.”
“No- Draco, I’m serious. This…it’s not good…”
“And I reiterate, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Draco snapped. Harry moved his hands from his eyes and stared down at Draco.
“How can you be so…so blasé about it?” he asked, annoyed. Draco rolled his eyes and yanked the covers up to his chin.
“It’s called being realistic,” he muttered angrily. “What are you going to do, apparate to the Dark Lord now and fight him in your pajamas?”
“You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts.”
“Oooh, someone’s read ‘Hogwarts, A History,’ apparently,” Draco quipped sarcastically.
“Yeah, Hermione,” Harry mumbled. He sighed, laying down so he was facing away from Draco. They were both silent for a few minutes as Draco tried several times to open his mouth and talk. But the words weren’t coming to him, and he was sure Harry must be asleep by now…
“Harry?” he asked softly, nonetheless.
“What?” Harry replied gruffly. Draco blinked, startled that he was actually awake, and paused.
“Um…” he started to say. “I was…I was thinking…”
“Good job.”
“You know, I do believe I’m starting to rub off on you.”
“Shame, that.” Harry sighed and rolled over to face Draco’s back. Draco made no move to do the same. “What is it?”
“I, uh…I wrote my mother last week,” Draco said softly. He heard Harry breathing deeply behind him.
“What about?” he asked. Draco shrugged. “Did you tell her about us?”
“No, not yet,” Draco murmured. “Next letter, maybe. I told her…I told her that…” He paused, fidgeting with the covers, and then blurted out, “I told her that I wasn’t going to side with the Dark Lord.” Harry was silent, and Draco was sure he’d really fallen asleep this time. “Harry?” he asked tentatively.
“What did you just say?” Harry asked quietly. Draco swallowed, rolling over to face him.
“I told her I wasn’t going to side with…with him. I said I would refuse to take his mark should anyone ever try to make me. I said I’d…I’d part ways with my father, if it came to that. I said I’d go with the other side…your side.” Harry was breathing quickly, his eyes wide. Draco met them evenly. “So you’d better damn well win, understand? Don’t…don’t make me regret choosing-”
“Why?” Harry whispered urgently, interrupting him. “What-…I don’t…why?” Draco’s eyes slid shut.
“Do you know how many people he’s killed since the Ministry declared us at war?” he asked softly.
“I…no… Is someone keeping track?”
“Yeah,” Draco said. “Me.” Harry sucked in a breath.
“Oh…”
“Thirty-eight muggleborn witches and wizards. Thirty-one half-bloods. Twenty-four purebloods.” He paused. “Sixty-seven muggles. You know, family members of the muggleborns and half-bloods and such. Nineteen of them had no association with the wizarding world at all, though.” Draco’s voice dropped as he continued in an even quieter tone. “Twenty-one of those killed have been under the age of eleven. Nine of those were from wizarding families of some sort of another. There’s been two pregnant women…”
Draco sighed, looking up at Harry again. “I want nothing to do with that,” he said. “I might be proud to be a pureblood, and believe me, I am…and I’ll always think that marrying muggles only pollutes the bloodlines… But all this killing without…without reason. Killing purebloods just because they support muggle rights. I hate to say it, but the Weasleys are one of the most prominent pureblood families, and to…to kill them off just because they associate with the likes of Granger… Merlin, there’ll be no one left! We’ll all be marrying our first cousins!” Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry chuckled.
“Can’t have that, can we?” he said hoarsely, grinning widely. “Draco…you’re serious?” Draco stared at him silently for a moment.
“Absolutely,” he whispered. Harry laughed again, more from shock and relief than anything else, and he lunged forward, capturing Draco’s mouth with his own and plundering it deeply. It was a kiss that tore Draco apart and put him back together again, all at once. He felt lost to it at the same time as he felt like he was returning from a long journey to home and safety. Heat seared through him and flared in his belly, and by the time Harry pulled away Draco’s skin was flushed and his heart was pounding and he couldn’t have possibly been any less tired than if he’d had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over his head. And somehow he’d ended up on top of Harry.
“Why, Draco…” Harry said in amusement, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Draco’s crotch. He brought a hand up and lightly traced the bulge in Draco’s tenting pajama bottoms, and Draco shivered, wondering how he’d gotten that aroused without even realizing it. His toes curled as Harry rubbed gently now, and he stared blearily down as Harry stared, wide-eyed and grinning, back up at him. “Do you want to…?”
Draco didn’t answer right away. They still hadn’t ever actually had sex in Harry’s bed. They’d done it down in Slytherin a few times, while skipping class or meals and such, but still not in Gryffindor, though Draco didn’t know why. Harry just hadn’t ever asked again, but if he had, Draco was pretty sure he would have said yes.
Because he was going to now.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Yes, of course. You can’t…you can’t kiss me like that and then expect me to just…just bugger off and go to sleep!” Harry grinned and immediately began tugging at Draco’s pajama bottoms. A few minutes of awkward shifting about later, and they were back in the same position, only without any annoying clothes in the way.
“Am I topping then?” Draco asked, leaning down and kissing Harry.
“No.” Harry murmured a quick spell that he and Draco had come to be particularly fond of, and suddenly lube-coated fingers were tracing Draco’s entrance. Draco had no problem with that, and he panted as Harry slowly began stretching him out, waiting for Harry to flip them over. It never happened, though. Instead, Draco felt Harry’s hands guiding his hips backwards, and then there was the familiar feel of Harry cock pressing against him.
“What- Like this?” Draco asked, caught off guard. Harry nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, holding his cock in place with one hand. “Just…sit down…” Blinking, Draco went about doing that, slowly easing Harry inside his body. He groaned low in his throat.
“Ok?” Harry asked, gasping, once he was all the way inside.
“Yeah,” Draco said breathlessly, trying to get accustomed to the feel of having Harry that deep inside. His own body weight kept him fully impaled, and he shifted a bit, jolts shooting through him. “God, fuck yeah it’s ok,” he moaned, and then quickly he began moving, setting a pace that Harry eagerly matched.
“You’re…you’re still in-in charge this way…s-see?” Harry panted, hands gripping at Draco’s thighs as he thrust against him.
“Uh-huh,” Draco mumbled, head bowed with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “W-will we wake your…your roommates up?” he asked, not really giving a fuck at the moment but figuring it would be an embarrassing situation if they did.
“Oh…fuck…you’re right,” Harry said. Grabbing the first wand he could find (it happened to be Draco’s), Harry gave it a flick. “Silencio!” he gasped, and then dropped the wand somewhere amongst the blankets and settled his hands on Draco’s waist to pull him even closer. “Lean back,” he ordered, and Draco did so, locking his legs behind Harry’s lower back and resting back on his hands. His back arched and when Harry pounded against that glorious spot inside of him, he threw his head back, nearly screaming in pleasure.
“Oh God!” he cried, eyes wide and unseeing as he concentrated on the amazing shocks shooting up his spine.
“Shit. Draco. I’m-… I don’t think I can-…” Harry spoke in between rapid intakes of breath that only increased as his thrusts did, but before he could say much else his thighs tensed and his toes curled and he saw nothing but white flashes as he came inside Draco.
Harry collapsed, boneless, back against the pillows, but kept thrusting as long as he could. Wrapping a hand around Draco’s cock, he quickly finished him off, watching the curve of Draco’s neck as the boy shuddered in post-orgasmic bliss. They stayed in that kind of awkward position for a few minutes, each trying to catch their breath, and then Draco slowly leaned forward again and fell onto the mattress beside Harry, the other boy’s cock slipping easily from him.
“Fuck. Harry. Fuck,” Draco said, a dazed smile working its way onto his face. Harry grinned, rolling over to face him. He buried his face into the boy’s neck, wrapping his arms around his sweaty back.
“Thank you, Draco,” he whispered against his skin, squeezing him tightly. Draco’s closed his eyes and returned the embrace.
“I didn’t do it for you, Harry,” he said slowly, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “I need you to understand that. I did it for me; it’s a choice I want to make. And if…if something goes wrong between us…you know, if we don’t work out or whatever…it’s not something I’m going to back out of.” Draco pulled back slightly so that he could meet Harry’s eyes. He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to join Voldemort. Ever.”
Blinking rapidly, Harry nodded. He tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, and in the end he had to settle for hugging Draco a little tighter.
* * *
Hermione was in a decidedly cheerful mood the following morning as she headed down to breakfast. Well, truth be told, she’d been in a decidedly cheerful mood for a few weeks now, ever since Ron had finally gotten a clue. Dating him wasn’t actually all that different from being friends with him, if one didn’t include all the snogging, that is. Hermione considered that part a bonus. A very, very good bonus, mind.
Grinning for no reason whatsoever, she sat herself down at one end of the table and went about buttering some toast. She enjoyed Saturday breakfasts, because it was one of the few times she had just to herself. Never one to sleep in particularly late, Hermione was often one of the only Gryffindors awake this early on the weekend, so she was able to enjoy the peace and quiet of their table in the Great Hall. She had a schedule: first she’d load up her plate with whatever the house elves had cooked up for them. By the time she’d finished doing that, it was usually just in time for the first wave of morning post to arrive, which would bring with it her copy of the Daily Prophet, so she could eat while reading it without enduring endless questions from Ron and mindless prattle about Quidditch from Harry. By the time she’d read all the articles of interest to her, she’d be about halfway done with her food and said boys would be arriving to eat their own share. Thus, she could enjoy the rest of her meal with her two best friends.
Well, with her best friend and one best-friend-turned-boyfriend.
Hermione finished loading her plate and glanced around for the morning post, which should- Ah. There they were. Various owls were swooping in through the windows, and a medium-sized tawny one landed in front of her and stuck out its leg. Hermione cheerfully paid it and watched it fly away, before she turned her attention to the Daily Prophet and opened it in front of her with a flourish.
And just like that, Hermione’s good mood vanished as quickly as if a dementor had swept into the room, the paper falling from her numb fingers and floating down to rest gently on the table before her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*whistles innocently*
I know, I’m awful. I make you all wait for God knows how long, and then I leave you with an ending like that. My apologies!
^.^
Well, hope the chapter was worth the wait! Let me know what you thought of it. And thank you very much to those who either left reviews on the last chapter, or who have been playing catch-up and have been kind enough to say something after nearly every chapter. You have no idea how much I appreciate that!
*~Maxine~*
next
All art for SWAS can be found at my website!
Entangled Wings
In any case, thank you all for waiting for so long! Hope the chapter is worth it. Only two left after this, so we’re almost done! ^.^ And I’ve got plans for a post-HBP fic that I really want to start writing, so I’m going to attempt to get these last chapters out quickly.
Beta’d by the ever-fabulous __goldie, as miints is off on an adventure somewhere in the vast wilderness (aka, she’s on a three-week camping trip). Thanks, love!!
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 15~~
Later that night, after Harry had been released from the hospital wing, he was resting in his four-poster bed and staring aimlessly at the crimson canopy above him when the curtains parted and a blurred red-headed figure appeared above him.
“Skipped dinner?” asked Ron as Harry shoved his glasses onto his face.
“Wasn’t hungry,” Harry mumbled, pulling himself into an upright position and sitting back against the headboard.
“How’s your head?”
“S’alright.” Harry peered closely at Ron. “Something the matter?” Ron sighed, biting his lip slightly.
“Mind if I join you?” Harry blinked and gestured at the bottom half of his bed for Ron to sit down.
“What’s up?” he asked again. Ron frowned, resting his chin on his fist.
“I’m worried about…about Hermione,” he said gruffly, and despite himself, Harry grinned.
“Are you now?” he said cheerfully. Ron blushed, but nodded.
“Yeah. She…I mean…what with her parents in danger and all…I think she needs someone around who she can…you know…go to for…for comfort,” he stammered. “Or…something like that.”
Harry quirked an eyebrow. “And you think that person should be you?” he clarified in an amused tone.
“Well…yes,” Ron said, looking somewhere in the direction of Harry’s left elbow. “I mean…if she wants. Obviously. I wouldn’t- I mean, it’s up to her, of course.” His eyes darted back to Harry’s. “Do you think she would?”
“Would what? Date you? Be your girlfriend?”
“Er…” Ron blushed again, dropping his gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, that.”
Harry was silent for a moment, and then he grinned. “Ron, you prat, of course she would!” he exclaimed, and Ron looked at him, startled.
“Seriously?”
“Well of course! She’s probably only been waiting for you to ask her since about fourth year.”
“You-you think so? Really?”
“Yes.” Harry shook his head, smiling. “Ron, you’ve both been dancing around each other for ages. It’s about time you did something about it.”
“And you don’t have a problem with this?”
“No, I…well…” Harry paused, eyebrows furrowed. “Well, as long as you don’t end up like Cho and I did-”
“Afraid to speak to each other, you mean?” Ron smirked.
“Yeah, like that. Then I’m fine with it.”
“You’re sure?” Ron asked.
“Haven’t you supported me throughout this entire thing with Draco?” Harry pointed out. “It would be completely unfair for me not to do the same for you. You and Hermione were made for each other.” Ron flushed at that, but grinned sheepishly, looking relieved.
“Well good. I was worried you’d be…um, uncomfortable with it. Maybe.”
“Nah,” Harry said, smiling a little. “Not a bit.”
Ron nodded gratefully and, looking more relaxed, he leaned back on his elbows. “How’s the thing with Draco going, anyhow?” he asked, drawing out Draco’s name like it was something particularly nasty. Which, Harry assumed, it probably was, to him. “Hermione says you’ve been having some problems lately. Hermione says, mind. Didn’t hear anything about it from you.” Ron gave Harry a slightly annoyed look.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…it feels odd, trying to talk about Draco with you. Not your fault.”
“But you don’t mind talking to Hermione about it?” Ron asked, sounding a little bit offended.
“I don’t go to her, trust me,” Harry said hastily. “She has a knack for knowing when something is wrong. She usually asks me about it and…well…hell, it’s Hermione! I mean, she was looking up safe sex spells for me when I hadn’t even thought of such a thing. It’s just how she is. Sometimes I think she’s more worried about the state of our relationship than I am…”
Ron was staring at him, wide-eyed. “She was looking up safe sex spells for you?” he repeated faintly. Harry nodded.
“I know,” he said. “She’s off her rocker.”
Ron laughed shortly. “That’s Hermione for you,” he said fondly. “Anyway, so what was wrong?”
“Just…stuff with the war,” Harry replied, frowning. “Basically I was pretending it didn’t exist and Draco was mad I was acting like we could forget about it.”
“I did notice that, actually. How we stopped talking about it whenever he came around.”
“Well…I mean, it’s not like we can talk about how much Lucius Malfoy deserves to get his soul sucked out five times over or something when Draco’s right there, you know?” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know how to handle it… And then he was mad I hadn’t told him about my scar.”
“Oh, so that’s why he seemed so surprised about it this morning.”
“Yeah.” They were silent for a few moments, Harry playing idly with the bed cover and Ron chewing his lip thoughtfully before speaking.
“Harry,” he began tentatively, frowning a little, “do you and Malfoy…I mean, obviously I’m not there when it’s just the two of you…but do you actually talk about much of anything?”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked quickly. “Of course we talk.”
“I always thought…that it was more of a-a physical thing. Sort of.” Harry frowned, and Ron hastened to continue. “Not that I’m saying you’re like…like-”
“Fuck-buddies?” Harry supplied, sounding terse.
“Er…yeah. I mean, there’s obviously more to it than that, but you spend an awful lot of time in the Room of Requirement. And other then sitting with us at meals, Malfoy’s not really around all that much and you’re usually with us otherwise-”
“Ok, I get it,” Harry snapped. He looked disgruntled. “We’re not just…I…we…there’s more to it than the physical stuff,” he finally said firmly, even though his mind was going in circles suddenly. Hadn’t Draco basically said the same thing? Of course they’d been fighting at the time… And it’s not like they were at liberty to just go waltzing down to Hogsmeade for a proper date. There just weren’t a lot of options, really.
“Sorry,” Ron said softly.
“S’fine,” Harry murmured, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “It’s just…Draco said the same thing and I’m beginning to wonder…”
“Why do you like him?” Ron asked curiously. Harry shrugged, looking away.
“Sometimes I’m not sure,” he said, smirking a little. “He can be such a git at times.”
“At times?” Ron repeated incredulously. “Try always.”
Harry grinned. “Nah, he just…well, frankly he just doesn’t like you. And you don’t like him, but I wasn’t expecting that to change.”
Ron snorted. “Good,” he said, and paused for a second before continuing. “You know, I’m still half expecting you to end up with Ginny one day or something. It’s still hard to believe you’re with Malfoy of all people.”
“Ginny’s with Dean, Ron,” Harry said, smiling. Then he shoved Ron a bit, saying impishly, “And redheads aren’t my type, anyhow.”
“Good thing, that,” Ron said, laughing. “I’ll soon be off the market, in any case. Hopefully,” he added as an afterthought. He peered at Harry for a second. “You really like it?”
“Like what?” Harry asked lazily, crossing his arms behind his head and sinking further into his pillows.
“Like…um…you know.” Ron made some crude gestures with his hands, and Harry’s eyes widened. “Doing…it.”
“It?” Harry laughed. “What are you, twelve?”
Ron blushed slightly. “Sex, then,” he said, rolling his eyes. Harry paused.
“Are we really going to have this conversation?” he asked skeptically. Ron looked determined.
“Yes. I’m curious.” Harry nearly choked on his own spit.
“Not too curious, I hope,” he managed to say. “You’re supposed to be asking Hermione out.”
Ron’s eyes widened. “No!” he exclaimed. “I’m not curious like that- well, I guess I sort of am. If you like it, I mean. Because…well…I can’t even imagine… But also…it’s just…I mean I haven’t even kissed someone properly and you’ve gone all the way and honestly, that’s really not fair at all but now I’m wondering what it’s like. Not that I didn’t wonder before but-”
“It’s good,” Harry cut in, amused, before Ron got too carried away and babbled on for the remainder of the night. “It’s…it’s fantastic. It’s...”
“Perfect?” Ron suggested. Harry laughed.
“No, it’s hardly perfect. Sex is…well…messy. You get sweaty and sticky, and you have to be careful or it hurts. Well, for boys, at least. I imagine it might be the same for a girl.”
“It hurts?” Ron asked blankly.
“Well…” Harry paused, nose wrinkling as he scratched idly at his ear. “I mean, think about it. I never did until Seamus told me to. If you’ve never…if nothing’s ever been-” he waved his hand vaguely, “-up there…then yeah, it hurts at first.”
“Then why do it?”
“Well it’s not like it’s torture the entire time. And even though it’s not perfect…just being that close to another person, feeling like…like…I mean, when they’re inside of- er…hmm…” Harry paused abruptly, blushing. “Well, I suppose you won’t ever experience that part,” he said, grinning sheepishly, and Ron chuckled despite himself. “But the other way’s good, too,” Harry continued. “When you’re the one in charge, and it’s up to you to make sure your partner enjoys it and when they do and they look at you and suddenly you’re the only two people in the entire world and nothing else matters…” He trailed off, eyes glazing over, and when he spoke again it was like he’d forgotten Ron was even there. “And for that moment, even if it’s actually only a few seconds, it seems like it goes on for hours and you wish that it could be hours…that it would never end and you could just stay there, like that, with him and no one else…just being together. And it does feel amazing, you’ve never felt anything so exhilarating…so intense…”
“…Wow,” Ron said softly and Harry blinked, coming back to himself and looking around at Ron.
“It can’t just be physical,” he said suddenly. “There’s no way… I was there when it was physical. The first time, when I couldn’t have cared less if he enjoyed it or not, because I was too caught up in how it felt for me. I didn’t even realize it was horrible for him until it was all over. And he’s always been careful with me. Just because we like doing it and we do it often doesn’t mean that sex is all our relationship is about!”
“You want to have your epiphanies a little louder next time, Harry?” someone said, and suddenly Harry’s bed curtains were shoved apart and Seamus poked his head through. “I don’t think the girls’ side of the dormitories heard you.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, startled. “I was that loud?”
“Oh yes,” Seamus replied. “What’s all this, then? Ah, I know.” He grinned. “Is Ron doing the typical best friend I’m-curious-about-gay-sex-now thing?” Ron scowled, blushing a little, and Harry snickered.
“Actually no,” he answered. “It was more just an I’m-curious-about-any-type-of-sex thing.”
“Harry!” Ron exclaimed, but Seamus nodded sagely, clearly trying not to grin.
“Of course, of course,” he said, sounding a bit like Ernie Macmillan. “Dean did the same thing after all. Course he’s got Ginny now,” he added impishly, “so I’m sure he’s since figured things out.”
“I’ll kill him,” Ron said at once. “What do you mean he’s figured things out? He’d better not have figured anything out!”
“Ron! No, really, Ron,” Seamus said, trying to grab hold of Ron’s shoulders to keep him from going searching for Dean. “Ron, I was joking. Harry, you’re not helping!” he said to the other boy, who was laughing loudly at the look on Ron’s face.
“I’ll let you deal with him,” Harry said, still chuckling, and he slid off the bed and opened his trunk. Grabbing his cloak and a familiar piece of parchment, he headed out of the dorms and didn’t pause until he was standing in the quiet corridor outside of the Gryffindor common room. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” he said softly, pointing his wand at the parchment, and then he watched as the detailed map of Hogwarts appeared on its surface. “Now,” Harry said, stuffing his wand into the back of his jeans, “where are you, Draco?”
* * *
Even though he’d used it an innumerable amount of times, Harry would never stop being amazed at how very detailed the Marauder’s Map was. He was especially thankful for it now, because he hadn’t been to the Prefects’ bathroom since before winter break, and the password had apparently changed somewhere along the line. After speaking the word that popped up in the bubble that appeared by the little dot labeled Harry Potter, Harry entered the spacious bathroom knowing that Draco was the only person inside.
The bathtub was already filled to the brim, a variety of foam and bubbles floating gently atop the water’s surface. Draco was nowhere to be seen, but Harry wasn’t worried about that at the moment. He dropped his cloak and toed off his shoes, leaving them, along with his socks, wand, and the map, in a pile by the door, and crept silently over to the pool’s edge.
He was still standing there, peering down into the water, when Draco broke through the surface a couple feet away. Harry blinked, watching as Draco tilted his head back and pushed his hair back from his face. Tiny rivulets ran down his shoulders and gleamed off his pale skin, and Harry’s eyes widened a bit as his jaw went slack-
“Harry!” Blinking again, Harry’s mouth snapped shut with a click, and he grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he said unabashedly as Draco scowled and ducked down in the water. Harry laughed. “Are you hiding from me?” he asked, still chuckling. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a bath!” Draco snapped, and Harry couldn’t tell if the flush in his cheeks was from the humidity in the air or because he was embarrassed. “What are you doing?”
“Watching you take a bath,” Harry answered simply. “Problem?” Draco frowned, slowly straightening up again.
“Well, no…” He jerked suddenly, looking at Harry. “Are you supposed to be wandering about? How’s your head?” he asked quickly.
“Fine, fine,” Harry replied, waving him off. “I told you Madame Pomfrey healed me right away.”
“So why are you here then?” Draco asked, wading over towards where Harry was standing. He looked up at him. Harry smiled.
“Just wanted to see you.”
“Ahh.” Draco smirked. “Enjoying the view?”
“Oh yes,” Harry nodded, “quite.”
“You’re not supposed to be in here, you know,” Draco said slyly, quirking as eyebrow at his boyfriend. “I should give you detention.”
Harry ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Don’t want to punish me yourself?” he quipped. Draco snorted.
“Why are you still fully clothed?”
“Haven’t had a chance to get undressed yet.”
“Well hurry it up, then,” Draco said impatiently.
“Eager, much?” Harry said, but he was grinning as pulled his shirt off over his head. The movement left his hair tousled and glasses askew, and Draco snickered at him. “No one else is in here?”
“Would it be a problem if someone was? We’re only taking a bath, aren’t we?” Draco asked, feigning innocence as he absently trailed his fingers through the water.
Harry raised his eyebrows. “If you want,” he said airily.
Draco smirked. “It’s not usually crowded this early on a Friday night,” he said, answering Harry’s question. “It’s likely we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“Oh good,” Harry said, and he unsnapped the button on his trousers and let them fall around his feet. Draco stared at him blankly for a few seconds.
“That’s the most hideous pair of underwear I’ve ever seen,” he said faintly, staring at the garish orange of Harry’s boxers. “Are those snitches? I wasn’t aware they made boxers like that for anyone over the age of nine.” Harry blushed slightly.
“Christmas present from Fred and George,” he mumbled, hooking his thumbs under the elastic band. “A joke, of course.”
“Of course,” Draco repeated. “I don’t ever want to see them again.” Harry rolled his eyes.
“Right. And I shall of course obey your every whim.”
“Right you shall,” Draco said, lifting his chin a bit as a grin worked its way onto his face.
Of course it was at that point, because unfortunately this was the type of luck Harry had been blessed with outside of near-death situations, that the bathroom door creaked open and a regrettably very familiar voice shrieked, “Harry!” Harry spun around, wide-eyed, as Draco squawked and submerged himself in the nearly-clear bath water.
“H-Hermione!” Harry spluttered, quickly yanking his jeans back up as high as they would go around his waist.
“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed again, clutching her bath robe tightly around her body as she stared at her friend in shock.
“Granger,” Draco growled, pressing his body flush against the side of the bath and quickly turning on the first faucet his hand found. Thick blue foam poured out around him.
“Malfoy?” Hermione asked incredulously, blinking and turning to the other boy.
“Draco,” Harry reminded her needlessly.
“Draco,” Hermione corrected herself quickly, nodding and rolling her eyes a bit.
“Harry!” Draco said urgently, ducking again so that only his face was visible above the soap suds.
“Er…” Harry said helpfully, looking back and forth between the two of them.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “Harry, what are you doing in here? Well, actually, I guess I needn’t ask.” She quirked her eyebrow at Draco, who went slightly pink and lowered himself yet further into the bubbles so that only his eyes could be seen.
“Um, Hermione, why are you here?” Harry asked nervously, still clutching his jeans tightly.
“To take a bath, of course,” his friend replied. “Though I suppose I’ll have to make do with a shower now.” She grinned and turned to go through a different door, calling over her shoulder, “And I can’t believe you’re wearing those boxers, Harry. Didn’t I tell you and Ron they were awful?” Draco shot Harry an accusatory look.
“She’s seen them before?” he hissed. Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Well, she did stay at the Weasleys over break, you know.”
“Right,” Draco said doubtfully. Harry rolled his eyes.
“Where did she go?” he asked, not entirely familiar with the layout of the Prefects’ bathroom aside from the bath itself.
“The shower room’s back that way,” Draco replied. “Now would you hurry up? I’m getting all wrinkly.” He held up his hands to examine them properly, scowling a bit.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Harry murmured. He threw another look over his shoulder, and then swiftly removed his jeans and boxers and jumped into the bath in one fluid motion. Draco snickered.
“Nice,” he said.
“Shut up,” Harry muttered, blushing. Then suddenly his arms were full of gloriously wet and naked Draco and his back was up against the edge of the bath and grey eyes were very close to his own.
“Make me,” Draco whispered, and Harry went about doing that, kissing Draco softly at first, and then more firmly as he ran his tongue across the other boy’s bottom lip. Draco opened up eagerly for him and the kiss deepened.
And then the bathroom door opened again and Harry and Draco reluctantly parted, though they didn’t release their hold on one another because, frankly, they were too caught up in the moment to give a damn if anyone saw them together.
“Oh, really now. Of all the places- Need I remind you that you’re not even a Prefect, Potter?” Harry groaned and Draco scowled at someone behind Harry.
“Do shut up, Pansy,” he said irritably. “Harry and I will do whatever we like, wherever we like. We don’t need your permission.”
“Yes, obviously,” Pansy grinned, shaking her short hair out of her eyes. Footsteps echoed throughout the bathroom and Harry turned around in time to see Hermione reappear, her hair pinned up above her neck and nothing but a towel wrapped around her body.
“Harry, I meant to ask you if something was bothering Ron. He’s been acting funny all day and he’s barely said a word to me- Oh!” She paused mid-stride, grinning. “Pansy! Come to join the party?”
“Evening, Hermione,” Pansy said, smiling easily. “And actually, speaking of parties, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Well you can do it away from here,” Draco said grumpily, reaching for the faucet and making sure there was an ample amount of foam surrounding himself and Harry. “We were a bit occupied before you two decided to ruin our night. Although,” he laughed shortly, “I suppose you’ve made it a habit to invade Harry’s and my personal lives.” Harry chuckled.
“All we need now is for Moaning Myrtle to pop up as well,” he said absently, slipping his hands beneath the water and pulling Draco hips close to his own, unseen by Pansy and Hermione. Draco blinked, cheeks going pink, and breathed in slowly.
“Does she do that?” he asked, carefully avoiding Harry’s eyes as the boy slid his hands up Draco’s thighs. He grasped the edge of the bath behind Harry when one of those hands curled loosely around his cock.
“She spied on me in fourth year,” Harry replied. He tilted his head back to look at the bathroom’s other occupants, appearing for all intents and purposes as if it were perfectly normal for him to be not only bathing in front of one of his best friends, but giving his boyfriend a handjob right under her nose. “You were saying, Pansy?” He tightened his fist around Draco, and the boy’s chest jerked as he fought to control his breathing.
“Oh, right. Well, I was thinking-”
“Surprise, surprise,” Draco muttered, leaning so close against Harry that he was practically resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder.
“-I was thinking,” Pansy said again, glaring at Draco, “isn’t it about time to start up the Saturday parties again?” Draco’s eyes widened and Harry paused. They both looked at Pansy incredulously.
“Whatever would we want to do that for?” Draco asked, but Hermione was grinning widely.
“I was thinking the same thing!” she exclaimed. “A lot of people have been asking about it. Hannah Abbot came up to me just today and was wondering if we had anything planned for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Harry asked, startled. “There’s no way you can get something planned that quickly.”
“Of course we can,” Pansy said. She eyed the two boys. “Do you have something against this?”
“Well… I mean, why, for one,” Harry said. “What’s the point?”
“The point?” Pansy reiterated. Her brow furrowed, and then a look of realization crossed her face. “Ooohh. I see. You both think that just because you’re finally together, it means there no reason for the rest of us to have a good time, is that it?”
“Well if having a good time means at our expense, then yes!” Draco said. Harry smiled at him and began moving his hand again, pulling at Draco’s cock in long, languid strokes. Draco shuddered once against him, eyes squeezing shut, and then he forced himself to look at Pansy again. “You can…you can find someone else to exploit…this time around,” he said, gasping slightly. Pansy looked at them for a few more seconds, and then she burst out laughing.
“You’re serious?” she gasped through her laugher. “You think… Oh, wow. Talk about your oversized egos.” Harry blinked, and glanced at Hermione questioningly. She shrugged, grinning.
“You didn’t honestly think we’d still keep daring you two to do stuff, did you?” she asked. “You might have noticed it sort of died down. You both took things into your own hands and frankly, it was getting old.” Draco looked vaguely insulted by that, so Harry distracted him some more by quickening the motions of his hand. Draco’s jaw clenched shut as he tried not to groan aloud. Harry felt the muscles in his thighs tighten against him.
“And besides,” Pansy added, “It was scaring a lot of people off. How raunchy we were getting…” She snickered, and Hermione blushed a bit.
“No more truth or dare then?” Harry asked. Pansy shrugged.
“Well I don’t see why not. Just…maybe not to the same degree. And if we keep using the Room of Requirement, we’ll be able keep the music and the big room and people will be able to split up and do whatever they want.”
“It’s just an excuse for everyone to get together, really,” Hermione said. “And you remember what the sorting hat said-”
“Yeah, yeah, house unity,” Harry interrupted. “I get it.”
“I wonder if I should make Blaise try to get a hold of some firewhiskey,” Pansy mused. “Or maybe some mead this time.”
“H-Harry,” Draco whined quietly, practically flattening Harry against the side of the bath now. Harry grinned and ignored him, but kept his hand moving.
“I’m sure Seamus will let us use some of his stash,” he said, warming up to the idea.
“Will that be a bit much for the first party?” Hermione asked. Pansy shook her head.
“I don’t think so,” she said, and then added softly, “I think people will be looking for an excuse to get smashed, what with what’s been happening…” Hermione nodded, and the bathroom fell silent for a few seconds, save for the quickening gasps of breath coming from Draco.
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Draco, are you quite alright?”
Draco groaned without meaning to, biting his lip, and avoided looking at anyone. His cheeks were bright pink. Pansy and Hermione seemed to realize at the same time what was happening.
“Harry!” squeaked Hermione at the same time Pansy burst out with an exasperated, “Potter! Merlin, you could at least wait until we’re out of the room!”
“Harry, if I were Ron, would you still be doing that?” Hermione asked in annoyance, propping her fists up on her waist.
Harry grinned unabashedly at her. “If you were Ron you wouldn’t be standing there watching us bathe together. You’d have turned tail and run away a long while ago.”
“Touché,” Pansy murmured, smirking. “Alright then, we’ll leave. Come on Hermione.” The two girls left for the showers, shaking their heads and muttering to one another. They’d barely disappeared through the doors before Draco grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him fiercely, thrusting freely into his hand for merely a few seconds before coming with a muffled moan against Harry’s mouth.
“Fuck,” he exclaimed as he pulled back and wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “Payback for the…for the Potions incident…I assume?” Draco asked, panting. Harry’s eyebrows rose.
“Already got you for that one,” he reminded him. “Just can’t keep my hands off you, is all.”
“Apparently not,” Draco murmured. “Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same. Hop up,” he ordered, patting the side of the bath behind Harry.
“What?”
“Sit on the ledge.”
“But…” Harry glanced worriedly over his shoulder toward the shower room. Draco rolled his eyes.
“Just do it.”
“I don’t-”
“Do it.”
“But, I-”
“Harry,” Draco said warningly. Harry sighed.
“Fine,” he muttered, and with a final backwards glance, he pushed himself up to the ledge. Draco descended on him before Harry could properly right himself out, and he gasped and fell forward, clutching Draco’s shoulders as Draco ran his tongue along the underside of Harry’s cock. His eyes widened. Draco grinned and swallowed him completely, sucking lightly as he pulled back.
“Oh God,” Harry gasped, and then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. “Fuck,” he continued, voice muffled now as his eyes squeezed shut as well. “Draco.” Draco hummed low in his throat as he moved and Harry jerked, panting, and tried to hold any sounds that threatened to escape him at bay. Then Draco’s hand came up and gently wrapped around his balls, and Harry groaned loudly. “Draco,” he hissed again. “Don’t…nggh…ahh….f-fuck…” Draco’s eyes widened innocently and he tightened his grip. Harry’s back arched and his head fell back as he sucked in a breath.
“For the love of Merlin!” Pansy’s annoyed voice yelled from the other room, echoing off the walls. “Would you at least put up a fucking silencing charm?!” Draco chuckled around Harry’s cock, and Harry swore under his breath.
“S-sorry!” he tried to say, but his voice cracked partway through the apology. Then Draco sucked again, his teeth barely grazing Harry’s skin, and Harry caved. Nearly shoving his entire fist into his mouth, he came hard down Draco’s throat, stifling his moans as much as he possibly could. Draco pulled away with a smug look on his face.
“There you go,” he said, smirking. “We’re even again.” Harry panted, looking at him through fringe that fell damply into his eyes.
“Arse,” he muttered.
“Prat,” Draco returned, smirking. “I’d get back in the water before Granger decides to interrupt us again or something.” Harry nodded, lazily sliding off the edge of the bath. Then he pulled Draco towards him and kissed him softly, and Draco grinned against his lips.
They were still wrapped around each other when Pansy and Hermione left the bathroom a little while later.
* * *
The Room of Requirement looked much the same as it had the night of their last party, except the long tables full of food were absent. Various cushions and chairs took their place, and when Harry saw the amount of sixth year students occupying them, he began to realize just how important these parties had become. It was such a relief for them to have at least one night a week where they could pretend Voldemort wasn’t wreaking havoc on the world, both wizard and muggle alike. Faces that had been etched with worry and fear were smiling carelessly, laughing… People were dancing, getting lost in the music, lost in a place where, for just a moment, death wasn’t looming around the corner.
Harry sipped thoughtfully on the drink Draco had just handed to him, and then gagged. “What-what the hell did you give me?” he spluttered, wiping his mouth absently.
“Mead,” Draco shrugged, drinking his own. “It’s a party, Potter. A time for joy and happiness and celebration and all that rot. Cheers,” he said flatly.
“I thought Pansy said the alcohol was only for the games,” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s bored look.
“Yeah, well,” Draco grinned suddenly, “Our good friend Seamus lent us some.”
“Our good friend?” Harry asked, eying Draco suspiciously. Draco shrugged.
“I believe he might be a tad drunk already,” he said dryly, gesturing off to the side. Harry glanced around and saw Seamus hanging all over Justin Finch-Fletchley, who looked amused. “He’s happily pouring drinks for…ahh…anyone who’s queer and here and desperately wants a beer,” Draco continued, adding an Irish twang to his words. Harry nearly snorted his mead up his nose.
“H-he s-s-said that, did he?” he coughed, laughing. Draco rolled his eyes.
“Got us free alcohol, in any case. Cheers,” he said again in a more cheerful tone, and he and Harry clinked glasses.
“Oy, Draco!” someone called, and Blaise was suddenly standing in front of them. “Pansy sent me around to find out who all’s interested in playing I’ve Never,” he said. “You two up for it? I want to get started already, I’m dying for a drink. I-…hang on…” Blaise peered closely at Draco’s glass. “Where’d you get that?” he demanded. “I’ve been trying to bully Crabbe and Goyle into stealing me one of the bottles, but they don’t listen to me like they used to listen to you…” Draco smirked and tipped his head in Seamus’ direction.
“Finnigan,” he replied. “But don’t try asking him for any. He’s demanding a snog for every glass.”
“What?!” Harry snapped his head around to stare at Draco. “You didn’t tell me that!” Draco rolled his eyes.
“A snog from anyone who he isn’t sure is actually gay,” he amended. Blaise chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip, looking longingly at Harry and Draco’s drinks. “Oh, come off it!” Draco smirked. “You’ll have your own soon enough. We’re playing now, aren’t we?”
“Oh…oh, right.” Blaise nodded. “Of course. Right. Come on, then. Let’s play. Right now. We need to start.” Harry chuckled, and he and Draco followed Blaise over to another corner of the room.
“Harry!” Seamus exclaimed as they approached, and he flung himself at his friend. “Harry! Do you want some mead? I’ve got a whole bottle to myself, but don’t tell anyone!” he said loudly, so of course everyone in the nearby vicinity heard anyway. “Everyone’s trying to steal it. Only those who fancy boys though, I said. No one else!”
“Well I fancy boys,” said Daphne Greengrass, who was lounging on a cushion a few feet away. Seamus eyed her in confusion.
“No, I…Um…Boys. Boys who fancy boys,” he corrected himself, stumbling over the words. He turned back to Harry, abruptly forgetting the interruption. “And Ron tried to get a free drink because he’s a Gryffindor and he thought that was a good enough reason, but I told him, I told him no. I said I was pretty positive he fancied Hermione and not boys and he would have to prove it if he wanted a drink.” Harry was listening in amusement, and he glanced around trying to find Ron. The boy was sitting across the circle, scowling at nothing in particular.
“And what did he say to that?” Harry asked indulgently, grinning.
“Well he wanted to know how he should prove it, obviously,” Seamus continued eagerly, as if this was the latest gossip he’d heard down at the pub or something. “And I told him I would have to snog him and then I tried to, but he didn’t like that very much. Shied away before I could catch him, you know. Then he got all in a huff and demanded to know why I’d given some to Dean.”
“And why did you?”
“Such a riveting story,” Draco muttered sarcastically. Harry absently pinched his arm. Draco slapped his hand away.
“Well because I snogged him, of course!” said Seamus obliviously. Harry’s eyes went wide and Draco snorted.
“Dean’s going out with Ginny, though,” Harry pointed out. Seamus shrugged.
“Funny, Ron said the same thing. With a bit more swearing. I told him it didn’t mean anything. I snog everyone, you know.” Then, as if to prove his point, Seamus lunged forward and planted a kiss sloppily on Harry’s lips. Half a second later, Seamus was stumbling backwards and Draco was standing between he and Harry, arm still outstretched from where he’d pushed him away.
“I don’t think so, Finnigan,” he practically growled. “Unless some very stupid person dares you to, you will not be snogging Harry.” Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist.
“My hero,” he quipped, and then glanced at his fellow Gryffindor. “Sorry, Seamus.” Seamus grinned and waved him off.
“S’fine, s’fine,” he said happily.
“I’ll snog you, Finnigan!” Blaise said, somewhat desperately. Seamus beamed.
“No need for that, Blaise,” said Pansy, as she finally appeared with various bottles in her arms. “We’re starting now.”
* * *
The game progressed smoothly, its players indulging themselves with various inane admissions and drinking themselves silly. By the time they’d gone through three rounds, everyone playing was feeling happily buzzed, and they graduated onto Truth or Dare. More people from the dance floor joined, and soon they had a fairly large group of sixth years playing.
Harry and Draco had somehow separated themselves from the group a bit; they were sitting farther back from the circle, leaning against one of the walls. Draco had just downed what remained of his mead (they’d switched to Firewhiskey shots for I’ve Never), and he let out a contented sigh once he was done. Harry’s hand was resting on his knee, absently stroking back and forth, and Draco followed its movement with his eyes before abruptly shoving it away.
“What-?” Harry started to say, but Draco was shifting around and suddenly Harry found himself with a lapful of Draco’s head, since apparently the boy had decided to use it as a pillow. Draco moved Harry’s hand to his head.
“Stroke,” he commanded, eyes sliding shut.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not difficult, really.”
“No, I know, but-”
“Pansy does it sometimes, you want me to go back to her?” Harry rolled his eyes, and set about running his fingers gently through Draco’s hair.
“Like that?” he asked. Draco murmured contentedly, and Harry chuckled. “You’re like a giant cat,” he said.
“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”
“No need to tell, everyone’s already watching us.”
“Oh. Well, sod them.”
“Thought you’d say that.”
“Know me that well, do you?” Draco smirked. He reached up before Harry could answer, and pulled the boy down into a sloppy, openmouthed kiss.
“Hey, Malfoy!” Draco pulled back, eyes opening in annoyance, and turned his head in Harry’s lap so that he was facing the rest of the group.
“Yes?” he asked Zacharias Smith irritably.
“Truth or dare?”
“Oh.” Draco paused, considering. “Truth, I suppose.” He was too comfortable to have to move around at the moment to do a dare. Harry’s hand was still stroking his hair.
“Because Justin’s curious and too embarrassed to ask you himself,” Zacharias drawled, “what do you like better: topping or bottoming?”
“Bottoming,” Draco replied promptly, and then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “Bollocks,” he mumbled as Harry broke out in laughter.
“I knew it,” Harry said, grinning. Draco glared at him.
“Truth or dare, Harry?” he snapped.
“Truth,” Harry replied, still grinning.
“Which do you prefer?” Harry opened his mouth to reply…but nothing came out.
“Er…” he said instead. Then he laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told you I liked both, didn’t I? Guess I can’t choose…”
“Figures,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. Harry ignored him and looked around the circle.
“Ron,” he called, spotting his friend sitting with Neville and, of all people, Pansy. “Truth or dare?” Ron eyed him suspiciously.
“I’ll say dare, but only because I trust you, Harry,” he said. Harry smiled widely.
“I dare you to snog Hermione,” he said, finding his other friend who was sitting with some of the Ravenclaw girls. She looked at him, wide-eyed.
“How utterly predictable,” Draco quipped. “Have at it then, Weasel. Go crazy.”
“For…for h-how long?” Ron asked nervously, ignoring Draco and looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione.
“As long as you want, Ron,” Harry said cheerfully.
“Yes, and Harry and I will join you,” Draco drawled, and then he pulled Harry back down to meet him as Ron crawled across the circle to an anxious looking Hermione. “Harry,” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips and meeting his eyes.
“Draco?” Harry asked curiously.
“Harry, can I…can I stay with you tonight?”
Harry sucked in a breath, eyes going wide. “You’re not asking because you’re drunk, are you?” he asked faintly. “Because that’s what happened last time…” Draco shook his head.
“M’not drunk, just comfortably buzzed and perfectly capable of thinking rationally,” he said. Harry stared at him for a few more seconds, and then he beamed.
“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Yes, yes, you can definitely sleep with me. Stay in my room. Whatever.” Draco snickered.
“Just sleep though, alright? For now.”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, whatever you want,” he said excitedly.
“What if I want to go now?” Draco asked, a yawn puncturing the sentence. “I’m tired.” It was contagious, and Harry found himself yawning too. Most of the room had cleared out already, aside from the large group that was playing Truth or Dare.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Let’s go now.”
* * *
Sleeping in Harry’s room was a lot easier than Draco had thought it would be, but perhaps that was just the alcohol speaking.
Of course he wasn’t sure why he’d thought it would be difficult in the first place…
Maybe it was because they were the only two in the room when they crawled into Harry’s bed. Possibly it was because the closed curtains gave them an ample amount of privacy. Perhaps it was the mead, making him feel lazy and drowsy and happy to fall asleep just about anywhere.
But mostly he figured it was because he’d never been as comfortable, not even in his own king-sized bed back at Malfoy manor, as he was when Harry’s arm wrapped around his waist and the bare skin of his chest pressed warmly against Draco’s naked back.
Draco awoke rather abruptly at some point during the night, and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. It took a few more seconds for him to realize that Harry’s presence against his back was gone, and that someone was moving around rather restlessly beneath the sheets beside him.
Rolling over, Draco tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Too impatient to wait that long, he leaned over and grabbed his wand off of Harry’s bedside table.
“Lumos,” he muttered quietly, blinking in the sudden light. Then he looked down at his bed partner.
Harry was pale beneath the soft glow of Draco’s wand. His forehead looked damp and his hair was sticking to it, and there was a light sheen on his sweat-slicked chest. His hands clenched the sheets tightly in their grip, and half of the covers were twisted around his fretfully kicking legs. But the look on Harry’s face was what shot through Draco like a jolt, causing him to nearly drop his wand. He fumbled with it for a few seconds, Harry’s gasping breaths roaring in his ears, and as soon as he had it in a solid grip in one hand, he immediately began shaking Harry with his other.
“Harry!” he whispered harshly, shaking the boy’s shoulder. Harry’s eyes squeezed even more tightly shut and his face screwed up against the light of Draco’s wand. “Harry, wake up! Come on, wake up wake up wake up!” Draco pleaded, shaking Harry again. “Harry.”
Harry’s eyes shot open suddenly and he gasped, panting, his chest heaving quickly. Draco kept his hand on Harry’s shoulder, watching worriedly as Harry slowly calmed down and took in his surroundings.
“D…Draco?” he asked in a small voice.
“I’m right here,” Draco replied quickly. Harry’s eyes focused blearily on him, as he wasn’t wearing his glasses.
“You woke me up,” Harry said, blinking. Draco flushed a little under his gaze and slowly lay back down on his pillow.
“I…yeah. Yeah. Sorry- should I not have?” he asked, feeling nervous for no apparent reason.
“No,” Harry reached for Draco and curled his body around him, clutching at his arms with slightly shaking hands. “No, I’m glad you did. I don’t… I mean, it’s not their fault, but-but the others don’t know unless I fall out of bed or something. So…so I usually have to wake myself up. Or just…stay there…”
“Stay…where?” Draco asked apprehensively. Harry was quiet for a long moment before he answered.
“Voldemort’s mind,” he whispered finally. Draco stiffened. “It actually hasn’t happened as often this year as it did last year,” Harry continued. “I imagine now that he’s realized I’m there, he can easily keep me out. But sometimes I think he wants me to see things…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Draco watched him, noticing the movement for what it really was now.
“Scar bothering you?” he asked. Harry nodded.
“A little. S’not bad.”
“What happened tonight?”
Harry sighed. “I imagine there’ll be a big report in the Daily Prophet tomorrow,” he murmured. Draco sighed as well, feeling confused. He idly traced his fingers along Harry’s back. “Thank you for waking me up,” Harry repeated, words slurring slightly as he began to fall asleep again.
“You’re welcome,” Draco answered softly, but he was fairly certain his words had gone unheard, as Harry was already snoring lightly again.
* * *
And so the weeks passed. The war raged on outside, and the Daily Prophet brought continuous stories of death and murder, but inside Hogwarts life remained very much the same. Classes continued, as did Quidditch practices, though the latter was now supervised by at least three teachers at a time. The sixth years continued having their parties, as the Room of Requirement became the one place where they could escape from reality every Saturday. And Draco continued sleeping in Harry’s room.
It wasn’t something that happened every night, or rarely even every other night. Usually on the weekends, or perhaps the night after a particularly bad attack, Draco and Harry would curl up together in one of their beds, because Harry had taken to visiting the Slytherin dorms now as well. That was a little bit more of a hassle than Draco coming to Gryffindor, mainly because Goyle put up such a fuss about it and had threatened to inform Professor Snape on several occasions.
On the first Friday of March, a night that Draco was spending in Gryffindor tower, Harry awoke so abruptly that he’d managed to sit up in bed and grab his wand in a defensive motion before he’d really even realized that he was awake.
“Harry?” Draco croaked from beside him, rolling over to peer tiredly up at him. “Nightmare again?” Harry didn’t answer. He was still trying to calm his breathing, and he was frantically trying to remember what he had just seen. It was something important, very important, he knew it… “Harry?” Draco asked again, sounding worried now as he sat up as well.
“Something happened,” Harry said bluntly, staring hard into the darkness around him.
“What do you mean?”
“Voldemort. He…he…I don’t know. Something. Something big. Someone I-” Harry’s eyes went wide. “Someone I knew? Maybe. Or I recognized who it was. Or something.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Draco said worriedly. His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you knew them?”
“I don’t know if I did,” Harry answered absently. “I think I’d...seen them before. But never really talked to them… But that’s not- I mean, something huge has happened. But I can’t remember!” Growling in frustration, Harry dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Damn it!” Draco frowned. Harry rarely got this worked up over one of his trips into the Dark Lord’s mind. “It was bad,” Harry continued. “Really bad.”
“Well there’s not much you can do about it,” Draco said. He fell back against the mattress and rolled over so that his back was facing Harry. “Might as well go back to sleep.”
“No- Draco, I’m serious. This…it’s not good…”
“And I reiterate, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Draco snapped. Harry moved his hands from his eyes and stared down at Draco.
“How can you be so…so blasé about it?” he asked, annoyed. Draco rolled his eyes and yanked the covers up to his chin.
“It’s called being realistic,” he muttered angrily. “What are you going to do, apparate to the Dark Lord now and fight him in your pajamas?”
“You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts.”
“Oooh, someone’s read ‘Hogwarts, A History,’ apparently,” Draco quipped sarcastically.
“Yeah, Hermione,” Harry mumbled. He sighed, laying down so he was facing away from Draco. They were both silent for a few minutes as Draco tried several times to open his mouth and talk. But the words weren’t coming to him, and he was sure Harry must be asleep by now…
“Harry?” he asked softly, nonetheless.
“What?” Harry replied gruffly. Draco blinked, startled that he was actually awake, and paused.
“Um…” he started to say. “I was…I was thinking…”
“Good job.”
“You know, I do believe I’m starting to rub off on you.”
“Shame, that.” Harry sighed and rolled over to face Draco’s back. Draco made no move to do the same. “What is it?”
“I, uh…I wrote my mother last week,” Draco said softly. He heard Harry breathing deeply behind him.
“What about?” he asked. Draco shrugged. “Did you tell her about us?”
“No, not yet,” Draco murmured. “Next letter, maybe. I told her…I told her that…” He paused, fidgeting with the covers, and then blurted out, “I told her that I wasn’t going to side with the Dark Lord.” Harry was silent, and Draco was sure he’d really fallen asleep this time. “Harry?” he asked tentatively.
“What did you just say?” Harry asked quietly. Draco swallowed, rolling over to face him.
“I told her I wasn’t going to side with…with him. I said I would refuse to take his mark should anyone ever try to make me. I said I’d…I’d part ways with my father, if it came to that. I said I’d go with the other side…your side.” Harry was breathing quickly, his eyes wide. Draco met them evenly. “So you’d better damn well win, understand? Don’t…don’t make me regret choosing-”
“Why?” Harry whispered urgently, interrupting him. “What-…I don’t…why?” Draco’s eyes slid shut.
“Do you know how many people he’s killed since the Ministry declared us at war?” he asked softly.
“I…no… Is someone keeping track?”
“Yeah,” Draco said. “Me.” Harry sucked in a breath.
“Oh…”
“Thirty-eight muggleborn witches and wizards. Thirty-one half-bloods. Twenty-four purebloods.” He paused. “Sixty-seven muggles. You know, family members of the muggleborns and half-bloods and such. Nineteen of them had no association with the wizarding world at all, though.” Draco’s voice dropped as he continued in an even quieter tone. “Twenty-one of those killed have been under the age of eleven. Nine of those were from wizarding families of some sort of another. There’s been two pregnant women…”
Draco sighed, looking up at Harry again. “I want nothing to do with that,” he said. “I might be proud to be a pureblood, and believe me, I am…and I’ll always think that marrying muggles only pollutes the bloodlines… But all this killing without…without reason. Killing purebloods just because they support muggle rights. I hate to say it, but the Weasleys are one of the most prominent pureblood families, and to…to kill them off just because they associate with the likes of Granger… Merlin, there’ll be no one left! We’ll all be marrying our first cousins!” Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry chuckled.
“Can’t have that, can we?” he said hoarsely, grinning widely. “Draco…you’re serious?” Draco stared at him silently for a moment.
“Absolutely,” he whispered. Harry laughed again, more from shock and relief than anything else, and he lunged forward, capturing Draco’s mouth with his own and plundering it deeply. It was a kiss that tore Draco apart and put him back together again, all at once. He felt lost to it at the same time as he felt like he was returning from a long journey to home and safety. Heat seared through him and flared in his belly, and by the time Harry pulled away Draco’s skin was flushed and his heart was pounding and he couldn’t have possibly been any less tired than if he’d had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over his head. And somehow he’d ended up on top of Harry.
“Why, Draco…” Harry said in amusement, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Draco’s crotch. He brought a hand up and lightly traced the bulge in Draco’s tenting pajama bottoms, and Draco shivered, wondering how he’d gotten that aroused without even realizing it. His toes curled as Harry rubbed gently now, and he stared blearily down as Harry stared, wide-eyed and grinning, back up at him. “Do you want to…?”
Draco didn’t answer right away. They still hadn’t ever actually had sex in Harry’s bed. They’d done it down in Slytherin a few times, while skipping class or meals and such, but still not in Gryffindor, though Draco didn’t know why. Harry just hadn’t ever asked again, but if he had, Draco was pretty sure he would have said yes.
Because he was going to now.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Yes, of course. You can’t…you can’t kiss me like that and then expect me to just…just bugger off and go to sleep!” Harry grinned and immediately began tugging at Draco’s pajama bottoms. A few minutes of awkward shifting about later, and they were back in the same position, only without any annoying clothes in the way.
“Am I topping then?” Draco asked, leaning down and kissing Harry.
“No.” Harry murmured a quick spell that he and Draco had come to be particularly fond of, and suddenly lube-coated fingers were tracing Draco’s entrance. Draco had no problem with that, and he panted as Harry slowly began stretching him out, waiting for Harry to flip them over. It never happened, though. Instead, Draco felt Harry’s hands guiding his hips backwards, and then there was the familiar feel of Harry cock pressing against him.
“What- Like this?” Draco asked, caught off guard. Harry nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, holding his cock in place with one hand. “Just…sit down…” Blinking, Draco went about doing that, slowly easing Harry inside his body. He groaned low in his throat.
“Ok?” Harry asked, gasping, once he was all the way inside.
“Yeah,” Draco said breathlessly, trying to get accustomed to the feel of having Harry that deep inside. His own body weight kept him fully impaled, and he shifted a bit, jolts shooting through him. “God, fuck yeah it’s ok,” he moaned, and then quickly he began moving, setting a pace that Harry eagerly matched.
“You’re…you’re still in-in charge this way…s-see?” Harry panted, hands gripping at Draco’s thighs as he thrust against him.
“Uh-huh,” Draco mumbled, head bowed with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “W-will we wake your…your roommates up?” he asked, not really giving a fuck at the moment but figuring it would be an embarrassing situation if they did.
“Oh…fuck…you’re right,” Harry said. Grabbing the first wand he could find (it happened to be Draco’s), Harry gave it a flick. “Silencio!” he gasped, and then dropped the wand somewhere amongst the blankets and settled his hands on Draco’s waist to pull him even closer. “Lean back,” he ordered, and Draco did so, locking his legs behind Harry’s lower back and resting back on his hands. His back arched and when Harry pounded against that glorious spot inside of him, he threw his head back, nearly screaming in pleasure.
“Oh God!” he cried, eyes wide and unseeing as he concentrated on the amazing shocks shooting up his spine.
“Shit. Draco. I’m-… I don’t think I can-…” Harry spoke in between rapid intakes of breath that only increased as his thrusts did, but before he could say much else his thighs tensed and his toes curled and he saw nothing but white flashes as he came inside Draco.
Harry collapsed, boneless, back against the pillows, but kept thrusting as long as he could. Wrapping a hand around Draco’s cock, he quickly finished him off, watching the curve of Draco’s neck as the boy shuddered in post-orgasmic bliss. They stayed in that kind of awkward position for a few minutes, each trying to catch their breath, and then Draco slowly leaned forward again and fell onto the mattress beside Harry, the other boy’s cock slipping easily from him.
“Fuck. Harry. Fuck,” Draco said, a dazed smile working its way onto his face. Harry grinned, rolling over to face him. He buried his face into the boy’s neck, wrapping his arms around his sweaty back.
“Thank you, Draco,” he whispered against his skin, squeezing him tightly. Draco’s closed his eyes and returned the embrace.
“I didn’t do it for you, Harry,” he said slowly, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “I need you to understand that. I did it for me; it’s a choice I want to make. And if…if something goes wrong between us…you know, if we don’t work out or whatever…it’s not something I’m going to back out of.” Draco pulled back slightly so that he could meet Harry’s eyes. He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to join Voldemort. Ever.”
Blinking rapidly, Harry nodded. He tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, and in the end he had to settle for hugging Draco a little tighter.
* * *
Hermione was in a decidedly cheerful mood the following morning as she headed down to breakfast. Well, truth be told, she’d been in a decidedly cheerful mood for a few weeks now, ever since Ron had finally gotten a clue. Dating him wasn’t actually all that different from being friends with him, if one didn’t include all the snogging, that is. Hermione considered that part a bonus. A very, very good bonus, mind.
Grinning for no reason whatsoever, she sat herself down at one end of the table and went about buttering some toast. She enjoyed Saturday breakfasts, because it was one of the few times she had just to herself. Never one to sleep in particularly late, Hermione was often one of the only Gryffindors awake this early on the weekend, so she was able to enjoy the peace and quiet of their table in the Great Hall. She had a schedule: first she’d load up her plate with whatever the house elves had cooked up for them. By the time she’d finished doing that, it was usually just in time for the first wave of morning post to arrive, which would bring with it her copy of the Daily Prophet, so she could eat while reading it without enduring endless questions from Ron and mindless prattle about Quidditch from Harry. By the time she’d read all the articles of interest to her, she’d be about halfway done with her food and said boys would be arriving to eat their own share. Thus, she could enjoy the rest of her meal with her two best friends.
Well, with her best friend and one best-friend-turned-boyfriend.
Hermione finished loading her plate and glanced around for the morning post, which should- Ah. There they were. Various owls were swooping in through the windows, and a medium-sized tawny one landed in front of her and stuck out its leg. Hermione cheerfully paid it and watched it fly away, before she turned her attention to the Daily Prophet and opened it in front of her with a flourish.
And just like that, Hermione’s good mood vanished as quickly as if a dementor had swept into the room, the paper falling from her numb fingers and floating down to rest gently on the table before her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*whistles innocently*
I know, I’m awful. I make you all wait for God knows how long, and then I leave you with an ending like that. My apologies!
^.^
Well, hope the chapter was worth the wait! Let me know what you thought of it. And thank you very much to those who either left reviews on the last chapter, or who have been playing catch-up and have been kind enough to say something after nearly every chapter. You have no idea how much I appreciate that!
*~Maxine~*
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Entangled Wings