Torrent (chapter 1 of 2)
It was a dark and stormy night and Draco was lying on his back in his bed not able to sleep. It was close to midnight and the manner was deadly silent. His mother had gone to bed long ago. She was probably exhausted from her day of distracting herself from the knowledge that her beloved husband, the father of her only son, was rotting away in Azkaban. It could have been worst; they could all three of them be locked up in Azkaban, they could be dead, or worst. Draco shuddered at the mere thought of the Dementors. He was very glad that the Ministry had had the sense to get rid of those ghouls for guards after the war.
The room suddenly became illuminated with light and Draco turned towards his window, just catching the lighting before it was gone. Seconds later Draco heard the rumbling sound of thunder. Once again, Draco shivered and snuggled deeper into his sheets and very warm comforter; the silk of his pyjamas rubbing sensually against his skin as he settled himself further down in his bed. He looked over at the fire and noticed that it was almost out. He would have to call a house else to come and rekindle it soon, but not quite yet, he was too comfortable at the moment to move; he was just…warm…enough…
Draco had just about nodded off when the soft pop of an apparition close to him jolted him awake. Without moving from out of the covers, Draco looked around his room and spotted a set of twitching ears at the foot of his bed; his bed was rather high. He sighed.
“What is it, Misty?”
“Misty is sorry to disturb Master Draco, but there is a visitor at the door demanding to see Master.” Draco could not see the house-elf, but he was certain that she was wringing her hands and possibly pulling on her tea towel/dress.
Draco heaved another heavy sigh. “Well, as you can see Misty, I am in bed and was asleep. You may go and tell the visitor to come back at a more reasonable hour; perhaps during the day.”
“Misty has already suggested such, but Mr. Harry Potter, insists that he had to see Master Draco.”
At the mention of Potter, Draco sat bolt upright in his bed. “What is Potter doing here? Why has he come and why had be chosen such a late hour in which to pay a visit?”
“Misty does not know. What would Master like Misty to do?”
After a minute of thought Draco answered. “Take Potter to the Blue Parlour and tell him I will be down momentarily.” Draco pushed the covered out of the way and made to get out of bed, but a throat being cleared stopped his movements.
“That won’t be necessary.”
Luck would have it that at the same time that Draco looked up at the man that was gracing his bedroom doorway a flash of lighting would illuminate the room and make Harry Potter, Savoir of the Wizarding World, Boy Hero and all around good guy, looks gather sinister. A bit like one of the many bad guys he had foiled. And if rumours where true and he planned on joining the Aurors, he had many bad and evil wizards and witches yet to foil.
Thunder sounded, yet again and despite himself Draco jumped a little in surprise. He should have been expecting it, but the git that was not in front of him had distracted him. In the Silence that followed the thunder Draco could make out the sound of torrents of rain coming down rather violently and hitting his window. Stupid summer storms. How he hated them. Especially when they left you rather chilled and then proceeded to herald the coming of Harry bloody Potter.
Draco managed to scowl at Potter despite the fact that his teeth were starting to clatter from how cold the room was becoming now that the fire had completely died out. Another thing he hated was drafty old manner houses. He noticed that Potter was dripping rain water and his scowl deepened.
“You are getting rain water everywhere.” He told Potter through clenched teeth.
Potter slipped his hand up his left sleeve and pulled out his wand. With one smooth motion he was dry. “Better?”
“Marginally, there is still a scared git standing in my room for no apparent reason.” He was able to keep the attack shivers from talking control over his body by focusing in on Potter. He was dressed in black robes and he had on a long black coat over those. Heavy boots and messy hair, which had not been improved much by the drying spell finished off the rather drab and depressing outfit. He had bags under his eyes. Those eyes that had probably captivated everyone he looked at with those eyes. Even with his scar, he was still rather handsome. Draco slightly shook his head to dispel his last thought. “What are you doing here anyway? I though after the trial I would never have to see you again.”
“I came here to talk to you.”
Draco finished pushing aside his sheets and comforter. “We have nothing to discuss. Now that that issue is settled, I would like if you left the manner and allowed me my sleep. For unlike you, I actually need and like to sleep.”
“I beg to differ.” Potter took several steps into his room. Draco sat straighter and glared at him. “We have a few things to discuss. So if you would send your house-elf away, the quicker we could get to it and the quicker I could leave and let you get back to your sleep.” He took more steps towards Draco and he was now standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at Draco.
Draco ground his teeth. He was going to have to talk to the bloody bastard if he wanted to get back to bed, to his nice warm bed with lovely and warm comforter. “Fine. Misty will you rekindle the fire and then leave Potter and me alone.” He saw Misty’s ears disappear and then appear again, he assumed the elf had bowed.
“Yes, Master.” She when over and fiddled with the grate and its instrument and when she moved back there was a merry fire to show for her troubles. She then turned back to Draco. “Is Master needing anything else?”
“No, Misty. That will be all. If I need you again tonight I will call for you. You can go to bed. I am sure that Potter can find his way out since he managed to find his way here.” He threw a glare at Potter then turned back to Misty. “Thank you, Misty.” She bowed again and with a soft pop she was gone.
Draco smoothed his pyjamas a bit and turned to face Potter. He did not think that this would take long, and after all it was Potter so he did not see the need to get out of bed. Now that the bedroom was fast becoming warm again he did not need to pull the covers back on either. He was half tempted to lay back against the pillows but decided that if he did do that he was likely to fall asleep and Potter would not like that. Then again, that might be just the thing, after all, he did not give a fig leaf what Potter liked or did not like. He looked back up at Potter and he could see that Potter was not happy. He smirked.
“Alright, Potter, say what you need to say and then you can be on your way.” As he watched, Potter scowled at him.
“Let us get on with it then. I hate to be taking up to much of your precious time.” He turned back to the door, walked to it in three longs strides, closed it and locked it both physically and magically. Then he waved his wand and murmured a Silencing spell. Draco did not like where this was going.
“What are you doing, Potter?”
“I am ensuing that we have the upmost amount of privacy and that we will not be disturbed. There is much that we need to cover.” Potter was once again at the foot of his bed.
“Now just wait a minute...” He did not get the rest of his sentence out because Potter had waved his wand and Draco was now tied to his four poster bed. Each of his limbs tied to a post.
Draco’s eyes widened comically, but Potter did not laugh, his expression did not change. It was one of determination and something else that Draco could not name.
“What exactly are you playing at? Untie this instant!” Despite his best efforts a note of hysteria still managed to sneak into that last word.
“I think not. I like you best this way. In fact, there are only two things that could make this even better.” Potter waved his wand yet again and Draco found himself gagged.
Draco froze for a total of 3 seconds then began to thrash about. “What are you doing?” At least that is what Draco tried to say. Because of the gag all that he got out was a series of moans and groans.
“Now that is quite an improvement.” Potter smirked. “I should have done that years ago. Now, I will talk.” He removed his coat and threw it on a nearby armchair. Then he sat on the bed, facing away from Draco, and stared at what Draco assumed had to be the door, as that was the only thing in front of Potter.
Draco once again tried to say something, but it was no use and he quickly tired of trying. He waited to hear Potter speak. A long time passed and he relaxed his tense position. He might have fallen asleep for a moment because he was suddenly jolted awake when Potter began to speak.
“Even though the war is now over and Voldemort is dead and buried, I still have to go around and pick up the pieces. I have been attending funerals non-stop for the last two weeks. People who I knew have died, people who were close to me have died, and complete bloody strangers have died. And I feel like I have gone to all of their buggering funerals these past few days. I thought that burying Remus and Tonks would be the hardest because they left a little child behind. For Merlin’s sake, he is just a baby. But no, the hardest one to go to was Fred’s.”
Here there was a pause and Draco felt Potter shifting around. After a bit of movement he heard two soft thumps. Draco raised his head as far as he could, given his restraints, and what he saw made him furl his brows in confusion. Potter had taken off his shoes. Bloody Potter was now shoeless and sitting on Draco’s bed. What was Potter doing? For that matter, what was Potter thinking?
A bit more shifting and then Potter started talking again. “The reason that Fred’s as harder to bare was because there was family, lots and lots of family. And they were all grieving. It was such a depressing day. Yes, it was a funeral, I understand that, but you should have seen them. I have never seen so many sad freckles faces. I think it was the freckles that made it all the worst. The tears and the red eyes stood out so much more. Except that there was one dry-eyed face; George. He stood silent and unmoving thought most of the whole affaire. His mother loudly crying by his side, his father trying to console her will whipping away his own tears. Ginny crying into Ron’s shoulder, with Hermoine at his other side, her face buried in a hankerchief. Bill and Fleur, Charlie and even Percy; they all had teartrack down their freckled cheeks. Except for Fleur of course, she was a ethereally beautiful in sadness as she was in any other situation. And dozens of other Weasley faces. I felt so out of place. I could not even make myself stand with them. I felt like an outsider, and Mrs Weasley always made it her sole persose when I was in the same room as she was too make me feel like part of the family. But I was left out.
“ Remus and Tonks had a joint funeral. They were buried side by side. I heard that they died side by side, battling together. They were laid out in the Great Hall side by side.” More shifting, but this time the talking did not stop. “Little Teddy, their son, and I guess he would be your nephew of sorts, was so angelic. He did not shed a tear through the whole thing. He did not know what was going on. I took one look at him, in his grandmother’s arms an could not hold back my tears. He was happily playing with Andromeda’s hat. She removed it and given it to him so that he would be entertained. While the eulogies were being spoken all that I could really hear was Teddy’s laughter and his delighted squeals.
“I’m his godfather, you know. I will make sure that he knows all about his parents and make sure that he does not grow up as I did, not know who he was and what he was. He will be as happy a child as his grandmother and I can make him.
“I guess I am just rambling now. And I should get to the point I wanted to make. You see Draco, the only reason I was able to keep sane though the procession of funerals were because of you.” There was a moment of silence and Draco realized that Potter had used his Christian name for the first time, ever. Potter laughed self deprecatingly and continued. “I could not stop thinking about the last time I had seen you at the trail, all pale and frail looking. Yet you and your family continued to hold your head up high. While I watched you and your family, as I gave my testimonial, I kept thinking of that image of you all in the Great Hall shortly after Voldemort’s demise. The three of you huddled together, looking for the entire world like the happiest family. You all looked like you were infinitely grateful to still be alive and together, even though you were all in shredded clothing. I was glad when you and your mother were set free, you on probation. I do not think that Azkaban would suit you, not to mention your mother. I will not say that I am not glad that your father is there, however, he did many bad things before and during the war and I say he quite deserve what he got.
“Anyway, I kept thinking about you. I would think about you and I would feel warm. I felt glad that you were given a second chance, because I thought you deserve a second chance. And then I got to thinking about the time that you offered me friendship and I turned you down because of some first impression and because you chose to insult the first real friend I ever made. And I thought that maybe we could give being friends another shot. I mean, I do not hate you. I might have hated you a little once, but I no longer feel that. And then I imaged what it would be like to have you as a friend, and I liked what I saw in my head.”
Potter stood up at this time. Draco looked over at him with shock on his face. He too had wondered what it would have been like to be his friend. He had wanted it so much. During his time at Hogwarts he rarely let himself think about it. And he tried not to think about it when Voldemort had control over his family. But a part of him always wished for it. And now here was Potter offer him an olive branch of sorts; if you could call a midnight visit and bondage an olive branch. Draco groaned. Why did he have to think that word? Why did his brain have to place the image of him withering naked and bond to a bed, as he was now, and waiting for an equally naked Potter to join him? He inhaled and hopped that Potter did not notice that there was suddenly a bit more going on in the trouser department than there was before.
“So what do you think, Draco? Can we be friends? After all that we have been through can we make it as friends?” Draco was saved from having to respond because Potter kept talking. “This question plagued me through many a funeral, including most of Fred’s. At the end of that one, as I sat in the Weasley’s living room, my the answer that I came up with was no. No, we could not be friends.”
Draco was shocked that it hurt him so much to hear Potter say that
“For you see Draco, what has developed between us is more than just friendship. There is so much antagonism between us that we could not go straight to being friends. There is so much passion that in the first few minutes of being in each others’ company we would either kill each other or something. And then I wondered what that something would be. Then it hit me like a hippogriff in that face. We would either kill each other or shag like bloody bunnies in heat.”
Draco swallowed at how close that statement was to his earlier thoughts.
“And you want to know the clincher? You want to know what finally made me decide to come and see you in the middle of the night, tie you to your bed and gag you.”
Draco was afraid to answer. But after many long moment of silence he ventured a look at Potter and realized that he was yes, he was indeed suppose to answer, and no, it had not been a rhetorical question. Draco nodded and then waited some more.
Potter leaned in closer and smiled. “The reason I came here tonight was because I decided that yes, I did indeed want to shag you. I wanted you on your back, with me between your legs with you screaming my name was I pounded furiously into you; you frantically meeting me thrust for thrust.”
Draco had stopped breathing after the word shag. And his prick had grown as hard as a rock almost at the exact same moment.
“Remember when I said mentioned earlier that you would looks perfect tied up if it were not for two minor details. The first being the gag that now graces your lovely mouth. Well, the second...” Potter brought out his wand once again and poof, with a wave Draco’s clothes was gone. “The second detail is that you have to be naked.”
Draco blinked, he was naked. He was naked! He was naked and tied to the bed! He was naked, tied to the bed, and gagged! And Harry Potter was standing there looking at his nakedness.
Draco looked down at himself and saw exactly what Harry must have been staring at: his rather hard cock. Draco closed his eyes. He could feel Harry’s gaze raking his body. He peeked out at Potter and indeed those green eyes were roving all over him. He moaned and squirmed against his restraints. He saw Harry lick his lips and he felt his cock twitched.
Chapter 1, part 2