A How to Wizard Guide Would Be Great

BY : Sasunarufan13
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco
Dragon prints: 2682
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make any profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Author's note: This story is dedicated to SasuNaruGaaraIta, because it's her birthday today. Happy birthday, sweetheart!

Again this story was supposed to be a oneshot, but well, I was running out of time, so this will be a twoshot *coughs* No surprise there anymore ...

Warnings: Harry's pov; ignores epilogue; slash; mature content; rather laid back Harry; future MPreg; A/B/O dynamics (though that doesn't appear in this part yet); time skips

Dedicated to: SasuNaruGaaraIta

I hope you'll like it!


Part 1

"You're still not ready?" Hermione's annoyed voice drifted upstairs, followed by her footsteps treading the staircase.

He turned around at the same moment his friend appeared in the doorway. "You look nice," he remarked smiling.

She did. Her bushy hair had been tamed in soft, glossy curls which danced around her shoulders whenever she moved. Her lips were coloured a deep rose and her blue eyeshadow made her warm brown eyes pop out. Her robes hugged her body, showing her curves. The blueish-greenish fabric glistened faintly when she crossed her arms.

"Only nice?" she inquired unimpressed, lifting an eyebrow.

Harry smiled impishly, resting his arse against the windowsill. "My apologies. You look absolutely radiant. A goddess amongst us common people. Whatever did we do to deserve your divine presence?"

Rolling her eyes, she fully entered his bedroom. "Oh shut up," she snorted, eyeing him critically. "You're dressed already; I hadn't expected that. And a new outfit too."

He scowled down at his own ensemble of dark green and black robes. "Kingsley threatened to send me to several more 'festivities' if I dared to wear one of my 'old' outfits."

"You sound like you'd much rather battle Voldemort all over again," she remarked wearily amused.

He glowered at her, but didn't reply. To be honest, though, he'd prefer battling a Dark Wizard than having to spend another evening listening to people croon at him and giggle, or worse, trying to press their breasts against him in a weak attempt to seduce him. He had come out of the closet two years ago, but that still didn't deter some women from flirting with him in the assumption that all it would take was a nice face and breasts which nearly spilled out of their robes in order to convince him to go back to the 'right' side.

Needless to say, they all failed in their mission. That didn't make their attempts less annoying, though, and he wasn't looking forward to dodging their advances the whole night. He was quite tempted to cast a Personal Bubble Spell, which would surround him with an invisible bubble and keep people from trying to touch him.

"Come on, it's just for a couple of hours," Hermione said soothingly. "Just show your face, talk with some people and then you can leave again."

"It's the same bullshit every damn year," he grumbled, but followed her out of his room. "How many times are they planning on thanking me? Yes, I killed the bad guy, can we please move the fuck on? It's been eight years for Merlin's sake!"

Used to Harry's complaining every year on this day, Hermione serenely ignored him until they were standing in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled gently, only brought alive to use the Floo network as it was already May and therefore there was no need to keep the fireplace burning.

"A few hours," Hermione reminded him, holding out the small jar with Floo powder.

She received a scowl as answer, but Harry took dutifully a pinch of Floo powder, resigned to his fate.

Just a couple of hours. If he could defeat Voldemort, he could handle people thanking him over and over again and women trying to seduce him. Piece of cake and all that.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he might actually start believing it.


When would be the appropriate time to go home?

That was the question running through Harry's mind as he hid himself in an alcove, keeping out of sight of everyone else. He had been at the Memorial Day Ball for two hours now and had given his speech – the same damn one he gave every year, but the crowd didn't seem to notice or care. So far he had been accosted six times already by women who thought they had a shot with him – it would have been nine times, but Ron had managed to rescue him those three other times.

His friend had been roped into a conversation with one of the Chudley Cannons Chasers, however, and Harry could hardly expect his friend to keep saving him when he had the opportunity to talk to someone of his favourite Quidditch team. Still, his help would have been very much appreciated …

He had lost sight of Hermione as well; perhaps she was talking to a Ministry employee, hoping to win them for her cause – that of securing proper rights for all kinds of creatures. He shouldn't expect any help from her either.

Two hours was enough, though, right? He had shown his face, had given that damn speech, had talked to some people … More wasn't necessary.

"You'd think by now the public would realise where your hiding place is. Seeing as it's the same one every year," a voice drawled right next to him.

Only his desire to not attract any unwanted attention kept him from whipping out his wand and shooting off a spell in reaction to being surprised.

"Damn it, Malfoy," Harry sighed, dropping his hand from where it had shot down to grip his wand. "Can't you announce your presence in a more normal way?"

The blond wizard straightened out from where he had been leaning against the side of the alcove and moved, coming into full view of Harry. As always the git was impeccably dressed, wearing tailored robes which was made of some kind of shimmery midnight blue cloth and which made his stone grey eyes stand out.

"Can't you search a new hiding place?" Malfoy smirked, crossing his arms. "Whatever would you do if one of your precious fans found you?"

"So far you're the only one who's been able to find me," Harry huffed, relaxing against the wall again. "So I don't see the need to find a new spot, thanks."

He wouldn't even try to deny that he was hiding from the other attendees; doing that would be an insult to the both of them.

Eyeing Malfoy, he added, "I didn't see you for the past two hours. Did you only just arrive?"

"Oh, did you miss me, Potter?" Malfoy purred, gliding – because there was no other way to describe the way he moved right now – towards the dark haired man.

Now they were both hidden behind the alcove; Harry pressing himself further into the wall when Malfoy leant forwards. His blond hair caressed his cheeks, forming a curtain, but it wasn't enough to disguise the way his eyes were glittering almost feverishly.

"As loathe as I am to admit it, you make for far better company than ninety percent of the people present here," Harry answered dryly.

"I'm flattered," Malfoy smirked. "As for your question: ever heard of being fashionably late?"

"Ever heard of being on time?" Harry shot back, watching with a quirked eyebrow how Malfoy sidled up even closer to him, bracing one arm against the wall next to Harry's head.

Three years ago Malfoy's close proximity would have had alarm bells going off in his head and he would have already increased the distance between them, maybe even cursed him if the situation felt particularly threatening.

They had grown up, though, and now it was curiosity he felt at Malfoy's proximity instead of feeling threatened and on edge. Spending a lot of time together to capture a rogue Potions Master had forced them to get to know each other in a whole different light. He wouldn't say they had become best friends or even close friends, but at least they weren't trying to kill each other anymore.

Now, they …

"I'm only on time for things which are actually worth my time," Malfoy murmured.

Instantly the air between them shifted, became charged with a tension that was different from the one they had experienced during Hogwarts. The chattering outside the alcove, the shuffling of feet, the laughter, the giggling, the squeaky noises of house elves who were carrying around trays with champagne … All that noise fell away, became nothing more than vague background noise which didn't even register in Harry's mind anymore.

"And what do you consider worth your time?" Harry hummed, keeping his face blank, but that became difficult when Malfoy leant even closer and his nose was assaulted by the other man's scent. There was that spicy tone of the cologne he preferred, naturally, but underneath that was his natural scent, which smelt far more pleasing than it had any right to.

A smile unfurled slowly across Malfoy's lips and his fingers slipped in Harry's hair, gripping the strands tightly, not allowing the other man to move even an inch. He lowered his head until his mouth was hovering right in front of Harry's and their lips touched fleetingly when he whispered, "Why don't I show you?" His eyes shone bright with the challenge he had just uttered, bright and dangerous, and all too inviting.

Harry had never been able to refuse a challenge.


They had been flirting with each other for months now. Harry couldn't remember who had started it, but their snarky exchanges slowly became interspersed with flirty remarks; the both of them trying to find out how far they could push each other.

Hermione had called it a natural evolution from the tension that had lingered between them throughout their schoolyears. Now that there was no longer a war pitting them against each other, she had said, they were free to get to know each other better. But, she had added with a smirk, she had always suspected there was more between them than just school rivalry.

Harry didn't particularly care why his interactions between him and Malfoy had altered. The blond wizard was no longer trying to kill him or get him killed, which was a plus in Harry's opinion, and well, he quite enjoyed the flirting banter between them.

It didn't hurt either that Malfoy had grown up to be quite handsome – not that he would ever tell Malfoy that. The man was already arrogant enough.

The fire had barely spit them out when Malfoy whirled them around and slammed Harry into the wall next to the fireplace. The back of his head smarted at the impact and he hissed, but the sound was swallowed up by Malfoy's lips and okay, yeah, he was definitely on board with this.

Never one to be outdone – especially not by Malfoy – Harry returned the heated kiss with equal force, parting his lips when he felt a tongue sweeping past them. Malfoy did not waste a second and soon their tongues were curling around each other, brushing past teeth and palates. They pulled back at the same moment, the need for air apparent in how quickly their chests heaved up and down; their lungs trying to inhale the oxygen they had been deprived of during their kissing.

Before Harry could say anything – what, he hadn't decided yet – Malfoy pulled his head to the side by gripping his hair tightly and his mouth latched onto a spot right underneath Harry's right ear, sucking the skin between his teeth. His body jolted at the unexpected sensation and his hands clamped down on Malfoy's shoulders, squeezing them tightly when teeth nipped at the sore spot in his neck.

A knee nudged between his legs and when he spread them slightly, a firm thigh slid between them, opening them further. Malfoy took a step closer, pressing their bodies flush against each other, and even through the layers of clothes, their mutual arousal was undeniable. As lips slipped down, brushing right above his collar, fingers fiddled with the clasp of his cloak. The black cloak pooled around his ankles and the removal of it stirred Harry into action, his right hand sliding down to open the clasp of Malfoy's cloak.

The fabric had barely slipped off Malfoy's shoulders when Harry felt fingers hastily popping open the buttons of his robes. The thigh between his legs was pushed up higher and a choking noise escaped him when a knee pressed firmly against his cock.

"B-bed," he stuttered and Malfoy pulled back with a smirk, dropping his hands and lowering his leg.

"After you," he said haughtily, taking a step back, but the effect was ruined by his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes glittered feverishly.

Harry just snatched his wrist and tugged him along, ignoring his noise of protest. The blond followed him all too willingly, though, staying as close to Harry as the staircase allowed him. Harry stumbled over the second to last step when a devious hand palmed his arse and even without turning around to look, he knew the bastard was smirking again. Well, he would just have to wipe off that smirk soon, hm?

The second they were both on the landing, just a couple of feet away from Harry's bedroom, lips attacked his own again; the kiss quickly becoming heated as they staggered their way into the bedroom, miraculously avoiding falling flat on their face.

What followed was a frenzy of removing clothes: buttons were impatiently popped open with one button not surviving the onslaught when Malfoy pulled a bit too roughly at the robes. Harry would have protested – it wasn't as if these robes had been cheap – but he was far too preoccupied with getting Malfoy naked as soon as possible. They stepped out of their robes, leaving them in a heap on the floor before hastily getting rid of their underwear and socks, throwing them somewhere in the room.

The bed was still unmade and Malfoy clucked his tongue in disapproval, but Harry pushed him down and crawled into his lap before he could utter any disparaging remarks. Their hard cocks brushed against each other and Malfoy's groan vibrated against Harry's mouth, before hands landed on his arse and started kneading his cheeks roughly, making him press back into them with a soft gasp.

His glasses were plucked off his face before he could react and he exclaimed, "Hey!" as his vision became slightly blurry. There was the soft 'tick' sound as they were discarded on the nightstand and then the hand was back on his arse, fingers slipping briefly between his cheeks to brush teasingly against his rim.

"You look better without them," Malfoy stated flippantly, but his breath audibly halted when Harry flicked his thumbs over his nipples, rubbing over them until they turned into hard pebbles underneath his touch.

Malfoy shivered, bucking his hips up, and this time it was Harry who smirked, pleased to have found out just how sensitive Malfoy was there. Trailing kisses from a sharp jaw, over Malfoy's throat, lingering right above his collarbone, Harry let his hands drift downwards, caressing a firm stomach, hyperaware of how the abdominal muscles tensed up before relaxing slightly. Right when his fingers brushed across Malfoy's lower stomach, aiming to grip his prick, he was suddenly twisted around and all the air in his lungs left him like he had been punched when he landed flat on his back on the mattress.

His view of the white ceiling was blocked when Malfoy's face appeared above him; his legs nudging Harry's apart so that he could lie in between them.

"That impatient?" Harry questioned, slightly more breathless than he would have liked to sound, but there was no helping that.

Not when Malfoy dipped his head down and sucked his left nipple between his lips; his teeth tugging lightly on it. The sudden spark of pleasure pain had Harry biting down on his lower lip, muffling a moan as his hand landed on blond hair, his fingers curling around the strands and pushing down in silent encouragement.

His mouth dropped open in a soundless 'o' when a hand closed around his cock, pumping up and down slowly; a thumb flicking over the head every time the hand moved up.

"Got any lube?" Malfoy asked roughly; his eyes glinting brightly as they roved across Harry's body, lingering at his steadily dripping cock for a bit before they shot back to his face.

It took a couple of seconds for his brain to translate the question; the pleasure running up and down his spine and the constant heat around his prick making it difficult for him to concentrate. "Eh yeah, top drawer," he mumbled, leaning up to kiss Malfoy's neck, not about to be outdone by the blond menace.

They had left their wands downstairs, discarded somewhere on the couch, so Malfoy stretched out his arm and grappled at the handle of the top drawer, tilting his head unconsciously to the side to give Harry more room. He tugged open the drawer roughly, riffling through the content and a huff left him. When he pulled back to sit up on his knees, he was holding the bottle of lubrication in his hand.

Idly Harry ran his hands up and down Malfoy's legs, avoiding his prick even when Malfoy impatiently pushed his hips forwards.

"Bloody tease," Malfoy snapped and glowered at the man underneath him. A bruise was already blooming in his neck from where Harry had worried the skin and the dark haired man was pretty sure his own neck was in a similar state.

"Are you going to open that bottle?" Harry nodded towards the lube, but he couldn't supress a grin when grey eyes narrowed slightly.

"Maybe I should leave you hanging," Malfoy threatened; his free hand clamping down on Harry's hip, his nails digging in his flesh.

"And deprive yourself?" Harry smirked, ranking his nails down pale thighs, making the blond jump. "You wouldn't."

"You're getting far too cheeky, Potter," Malfoy growled and grabbed Harry's right leg, roughly pushing it aside, opening him up. A pillow was stuffed underneath his arse, propping him up and giving Malfoy more access.

"And you're getting slow in your age, Malfoy," Harry taunted and then sucked his teeth when a thumb pressed against his entrance, not pushing in yet, but rubbing slowly across the rim.

"You were saying?" Malfoy smirked and then his thumb was replaced by a slick index finger which slipped inside without any warning, causing Harry to clamp down on the digit in surprise.

"Tsss, a little bit of warning would have been nice, bastard," Harry hissed darkly and yelped when teeth nipped his right nipple; blonds strands tickling his chest.

"My thumb wasn't warning enough?" Malfoy clucked his tongue, slipping out his finger to add a second one. "You're a lost cause then, Potter."

"Shut up," Harry muttered, forcing himself to relax his muscles and not tighten around the intrusion.

"Great comeback," Malfoy snorted and Harry opened his mouth to retort, but instead a loud moan escaped him when fingers brushed against his prostate, instantly sending a burst of pleasure through his system.

Malfoy grinned. "Found it," he muttered and covered Harry's mouth once more, swallowing up his throaty groan as he kept pressing against the gland as much as he could, rotating and spreading his fingers all the while to stretch the dark haired man properly.

A third finger was quickly added, rubbing against his inner walls and green eyes crossed briefly. He shuddered as the pleasure steadily built up, setting his nerves on fire. His hands were gliding across smooth skin, lingering briefly across the slightly raised ridges of the Sectumsempra scars, before he moved them down again, across sides and along a tensed up lower belly. He had apologised for his attack during their sixth year and he knew Malfoy preferred not to mention it ever again. Instead he slipped his hands up again, over strong shoulders and down a firm back, accidentally scratching red lines in Malfoy's skin when three fingers pressed firmly against his prostate and a jolt of pleasure shot through his entire body.

Swollen lips left his own, smoothing across his cheek, before they hovered near his ear. As fingers kept pumping in and out Harry, mimicking the action that would soon – preferably really soon – follow, Malfoy asked lowly, "You're not an O-type, right?"

I'm not a … what? Harry blinked, trying to decipher the question through the fog of pleasure which had descended upon his mind. Was he talking about blood types? Was there some kind of ridiculous rule Purebloods had made up that they couldn't sleep with someone if they had a particular blood type?

He voiced his protest when the fingers inside him stilled and Malfoy huffed, pulling back slightly to peer down at him. "Well? Are you?" he questioned impatiently, shifting around between Harry's legs and brushing his cock against his inner thigh.

Too caught up in the pleasure – and becoming impatient for the next event – he decided not to even bother asking why the hell Malfoy was so interested in his blood type and muttered, "No.", recalling that he had blood type A. Not that that mattered right now; all that mattered – should matter – was getting fucked right now by the infuriating blond between his legs.

Swinging his legs up, he crossed them behind Malfoy's back and used his foot to tap Malfoy's arse, nearly bringing him out of balance. "Get a move on or do I have to do it myself?" he huffed, biting quickly down in the junction between Malfoy's neck and shoulder, feeling him jump underneath his teeth.

"Like it would be that good if you did it by yourself," Malfoy retorted arrogantly, but Harry's complaint had done the trick. His fingers retreated, leaving Harry to clench around the sudden emptiness, and then the bottle cap was popped open again and Malfoy wrapped a slick hand around his cock, spreading the lube out.

Harry pulled his legs up, bracing his feet against the mattress, the discarded sheets touching his toes, and Malfoy shuffled closer, rubbing their cocks together.

"Ready?" he asked; his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed.

"Yeah, go on," Harry said and then his breath hitched and his fingers clamped down around slender forearms when Malfoy's cock nudged against his entrance, pushing swiftly past the ring, aided by the lube.

Malfoy kept pressing forwards, sliding his entire length in Harry at once, not pausing until his hips rested flush against Harry's buttocks. They both panted; Malfoy with his eyes screwed shut, Harry trying to adjust around the intrusion. Damnit, Malfoy hadn't seemed that big …

He breathed out slowly, relaxing his muscles one by one, and the vague burning sensation radiating from his lower back diminished slightly. That would have to do for now. He slipped his arms around Malfoy's neck and grey eyes opened, gazing down at him.

"Can I move?" he requested, but his hips were already thrusting almost imperceptibly as he supported his weight on his hands on either side of Harry's head.

"Yeah, move," Harry sighed and there was a quick flash of white teeth before Malfoy pulled back, paused for a few seconds, and then slammed back inside, shoving Harry up towards the headboard.

They set up a quick, harsh rhythm; their mouths finding each other again in sloppy kisses, breathy 'ha, ha, ha's' escaping them, their breath caressing their lips and chins.

The mattress squeaked, the pillow whispered underneath dark strands and the bed creaked with the occasional too hard thrust. A whimper couldn't be hold back when Malfoy swivelled his hips around a bit before thrusting back inside; the new position allowing him to brush across Harry's prostate.

A shark like grin graced reddened lips when Malfoy picked up the sound and he shifted slightly, a look of concentration passing his face before …

Harry shouted, his fingers digging into Malfoy's back, when his sweet spot was assaulted dead on. From there on Malfoy seemed intent on abusing him there, most of his thrusts striking it fully, driving up the pleasure to almost impossible levels.

Harry was babbling something, he was aware of his mouth moving, but he couldn't hear himself talk through the loud rushing in his ears. His limbs were tightly wound around Malfoy's shoulders and waist and he let himself be rocked back and forth across the bed; moans and groans and swallowed down whimpers filling the air between them. Sweat coated their bodies, making them sticky and Harry's prick was leaking profusely, pressed between their stomachs.

Then a hand, hot, slick, wrapped around his cock while lips covered his own in a deep, all-consuming kiss. A tongue touched his own, Malfoy's moan muffled against his mouth, and Harry came undone. Arching his back, a scream tore through his throat when he came, soaking both his stomach and Malfoy's, as white light flashed behind his closed eyes. Shuddering and trembling in the aftermath of his climax, he was vaguely aware of Malfoy stiffening in his hold before the man buried his face in Harry's neck and lowly moaned; his hips stuttering to a stop.

They laid there panting for a while until the tremors in Harry's body subsided and he started cooling off, his sweat drying. Malfoy began to feel like dead weight on top of him and he groaned exhaustedly, pushing against Malfoy's shoulders.

"You're heavy," he mumbled and Malfoy grunted something in protest, but flopped down next to him, running a hand through his hair to push the sweaty, blond strands back.

Too lazy to get up and take a shower, Harry lamented the fact that they had left their wands downstairs. Well, it wasn't like he would die from not taking a shower now. Still, he made an attempt to get up, figuring he could at least retrieve his wand.

"Eugh, stop moving, Potter, and go to sleep," Malfoy muttered, his hand clamping down around Harry's wrist and holding him back.

When the dark haired man turned around to look at him, he smiled amused at the sight of Malfoy with incredibly messed up hair, eyes closed already.

"Yes, your majesty," Harry snarked, but dropped down again, tugging the blanket over the both of them.

It didn't take long for sleep to capture him, aided by the rhythmic soft breathing of the man sleeping next to him.


The one nightstand turned into two nightstands, then three, then four, then five …

They ended up sleeping together at least once nearly every week. They didn't talk about this sudden change in their so far amicable relationship; they enjoyed the sex and that was that. No complications, no drama.

Malfoy's birthday had Harry showing up at Malfoy Manor, together with Andromeda and his godson Teddy, who had turned eight a couple of months ago. This wasn't the first time Harry had attended Malfoy's birthday party; last year he had been present as well, but it was different now. As Teddy chattered brightly about his lessons, waiting for the cake to be cut, green eyes exchanged heated glances with grey ones, promising things which weren't appropriate to say aloud near the people present. Harry took care to only touch Malfoy fleetingly, teasingly brushing against his inner wrist, his hand, his arm, his shoulder, his neck when nobody was looking …

He stroked Malfoy's ankle with his foot underneath the table as they ate the vanilla and chocolate cake and had to hide a grin behind his glass of pumpkin juice when Malfoy slammed his knee into the table and swore. Malfoy's glare promised retribution, but Harry simply quirked an eyebrow challengingly.

Bring it on.

And bring it on, Malfoy did. When Harry opened his front door after incessant knocking that evening – he hadn't yet completed a Floo connection with Malfoy Manor – he had just enough time to laugh before Malfoy was all over him. The ache in his back from being slammed into the wall and fucked right there in the hallway was more than worth it.


They started having more casual meetings – meetings that didn't end in sex – a couple of weeks after Harry's birthday. Malfoy would join him for lunch at the Ministry or just bug him in the middle of his work if he got into a particular mood.

Ron was quite creeped out by Malfoy's continued presence in Harry's life – and by extent his whenever the blond wizard plopped his arse down in their office – but kept quiet about it.

"It's your life, mate," Ron said when Harry questioned him about his odd acquiescence one day in September. "If you're happy, then fine with me. Just tell him I'll break more than his nose alone if he hurts you in any way."

Harry wanted to point out that they were not a couple and therefore there was no need for Ron to act the part of the protective best friend, but shrugged it off in the end. Who cared what made Ron act civil towards Malfoy? Harry didn't have to act like some kind of referee between the two of them and that was good enough.


October brought some changes with it.

Somewhere along the way 'Malfoy' had become 'Draco' in Harry's mind, but he had never called the other wizard by his first name before. That all changed when Harry was forced to remain in bed one morning, having been hit by the Fever Heat Curse the night before. He had been chasing some Dark Wizards in the middle of London and while he and Ron had managed to catch them, one of the men had managed to hit him with the curse before he could deflect it. Fortunately for him the Healer had discovered quickly which curse it had been and so he only needed to remain on bed rest for three days while ingesting the potion specifically meant to cure the Fever Heat Curse.

If left untreated the curse could be quite deadly, but the potion would flush all remnants of the curse out of his system.

That didn't mean Harry had to enjoy his current situation, though.

"Don't get up, she said," he grumbled, shifting to lie on his right side, scowling at the open doorway of his bedroom. "It's just a fever! I've had worse."

Hermione had stopped by to deliver the potions and had been immitigable: Harry was to stay in bed and rest – "And don't think I won't find out if you ignored the Healer's orders, Harry!" – and drink the potion every five hours. He very much disliked the potion, though, because it made him …

The sound of the Floo flaring to life had him perking up; was Ron going to keep him company? Maybe he had even brought one of their cases with him and then Harry could still do something while being on forced bedrest.

It wasn't Ron, however, who appeared in the doorway, but Malfoy, who raised an eyebrow.

"So you're actually in bed, following the Healer's orders? Well, colour me impressed," he remarked with a light sneer, entering the room fully.

Harry frowned, turning to lie on his back. "What are you doing here? How did you know I was sick?"

Grey eyes rolled as the owner of them approached the bed. "The whole Auror department is gossiping about it. It wasn't that difficult to discover all the details."

Harry scowled down at his light green sheets; his colleagues really should learn to keep a handle on the gossip.

"Sorry, but I'm not really feeling up to any fun activities," Harry smiled weakly; a headache creeping up on him again. The pain pulsed lowly at his temples and he felt himself becoming warmer; he wouldn't be surprised if his cheeks were resembling a tomato at the moment.

"Screwing sick people isn't one of my kinks," Malfoy said dryly and to Harry's surprise, he sank down on the bed next to him and felt his forehead carefully.

The slender, cold hand – still carrying the faint traces of a yellow coloured potion – felt heavenly against his forehead and Harry pressed into the palm with a quiet moan.

"You're starting to burn up," Malfoy commented calmly and went to pull back his hand.

A soft whimper of protest escaped Harry before he could stop it and Malfoy rested his hand on his forehead once more. "Have you taken your medicine yet?"

"No," Harry mumbled petulantly, eying the dark green vial on his nightstand with a heavy glower.

"Hasn't it been five hours since you left Saint Mungos?" Harry's silence was apparently enough as answer, because Malfoy snorted and snatched the vial from the dark blue nightstand. "Come on then. Can't have you dying from a fever after winning a war."

Only the reminder that he would be out for longer than three days if he didn't take the medicine now, had Harry sitting up and accepting the vial. The potion tasted vile like always with a bittersweet aftertaste and he handed the bottle back with a grimace. Almost immediately he started feeling drowsy – the side effect he loathed so much. He didn't mind so much feeling drowsy, but when that drowsiness was induced by a potion, it always left him with an uncomfortable feeling. Like his guards were completely lowered and he wouldn't be ready for a possible attack.

"See, that wasn't so difficult now, was it?" the blond smirked and started rising up again as if prepared to leave.

Harry's hand shot out, his fingers clasping around a pale wrist and grey eyes regarded him surprised.

Eyes half lidded, speech slurred with sleep, Harry managed to mutter, "Can you stay? Draco?"

The name slipped out of his mouth without any warning and there was a part in him screaming and running around alarmed, terrified that some kind of barrier had been torn down all of a sudden. The rest of him was too sleepy to actually start panicking and had him blinking owlishly at the other man.

Surprise made way for a softer look and the older wizard inclined his head. "Sure; I'll stay as long as you'll like." A pause. "Harry."

Oddly Harry's chest glowed with warmth at hearing his name leaving Draco's mouth, but before he could say anything else, he promptly fell asleep.

Draco's hand clutched in his own.


The end of October was filled with harsh, howling wind and a lot of rain. In fact it was the sound of big, fat raindrops hitting the window and dripping down the glass which woke Harry up one morning.

Face half mushed into his pillow, he reached out blindly with his arm, patting the space next to him. There was no body occupying the bed next to him and judging by how cool the mattress felt, his lover must have left the bed a while ago already.

Harry rolled himself onto his back and yawned loudly, stretching his arms and legs; a slight twinge of pain radiating in his lower back. At the reminder of what they had done last night, he smiled and he sat up, swinging his legs out of the large bed with its ridiculously comfortable mattress and pillows. A quick check of the clock revealed he still had at least a few hours before Andromeda would expect him to pick up Teddy so they could go watch the Quidditch game between the Falmouth Falcons and the Montrose Magpies.

He retrieved a fresh pair of underwear from the drawer which Draco had gifted him a few weeks ago, so that he didn't always have to make a quick stop at his own house to change into some fresh clothes. He wasn't in the mood yet to decide on an outfit for today – and knowing Draco, he would just disapprove of whatever Harry chose and select an outfit for him – so he closed the drawer again and scooped off Draco's shirt from the floor, shrugging it on. It ended right in the middle of his arse, not even covering his boxers, but Harry wasn't bothered by it.

It was just him and Draco anyway and the blond had made it clear on various occasions just how much he loved seeing Harry in his clothes.

"Hey, Draco," he called out as he descended the stairs and padded on bare feet towards the kitchen. "Do you think you have time to join me and …" he trailed off, coming to an abrupt stop in the kitchen doorway when he realised that Draco was not alone in the kitchen at all.

Nope, not alone, because sitting right there next to him was his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, who looked at him calmly as if the sight of a barely dressed man in the kitchen of her son didn't faze her at all.

"Eh, hello, Mrs. Malfoy," he greeted her belatedly, staring at her wide eyed. "I, eh, I didn't know you'd be here," he added lamely, praying that his face wasn't as red as he feared it was.

Draco, the bastard, was laughing at him with his eyes, holding a mug against his mouth.

"Good morning, Harry," Mrs. Malfoy greeted calmly. She quirked an eyebrow. "Why don't you get dressed and join us for breakfast?"

"Right, eh, I'm going to do that," he stammered and yeah, that arsehole was definitely smirking, enjoying his discomfort, the sadistic bastard.

"Oh and Harry?"

He turned his head, catching his hand against the doorjamb. "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Call me Narcissa, dear. I dare say we're past being formal acquaintances," she smiled and was that a hint of amusement lurking in her deep blue eyes?

"Right, yeah, Narcissa, got it," Harry said and then hurried upstairs before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

That bastard was going to pay for not warning him.


Harry sank down besides Draco, who was still trembling, eyes wide and pupils so big they nearly overtook the grey colour. As punishment for not warning him sooner that Narcissa would come over, Harry had spent several hours tonight bringing Draco close to the edge of release over and over again before cruelly denying him his climax every time. When fingers had dug into his hips and a weak, "Please, Harry, let me," had left the high-strung blond, Harry had finally given in, deciding Draco had been punished enough.

Now they laid side by side, Draco looking worn out and completely spent, not even reacting when Harry turned to lie on his side and draw lazy circles on his stomach.

Thinking back to Narcissa's calm reaction this morning, as if she had expected to see him here instead of being surprised, Harry wondered aloud, "Are we a couple?"

He turned his head so that he could look Draco in the eyes, wrapping his arm around his waist. Draco brought his own arm around Harry's hip, clutching him tighter against him. "If you want to be," he replied, sighing softly.

Harry thought back at the past six months and the way they had gradually changed in that time. They had gone from only occasionally sharing a bed, to sharing lunches, going to Quidditch games together, Draco taking care of him when he was sick, them becoming 'Draco' and 'Harry' instead of remaining 'Malfoy' and 'Potter' … It was hard to believe things between them had changed so much in just six months, but it didn't feel bad either.

It felt … right, somehow. The thought of being a couple, of being officially together and not just hooking up was something he quite enjoyed he discovered.

"Yeah, I'd like that," he admitted softly.

"I'd like that too," Draco confessed and Harry grinned, lifting his head up so that they could share a soft kiss.

Their first official kiss as a couple. That thought made him giddy and he still had a grin plastered on his face when he laid down again, resting his head on Draco's shoulder.

Things were really looking up for him, he mused right before falling asleep; his legs intertwined with Draco's.


Which was why of course his world was abruptly turned upside down two weeks later.


AN2: The whole Alpha, Beta, Omega dynamics and how that is tied with them still being wizards/witches is something that will be explained in the next part.

I hope the first chapter wasn't too bad! It wasn't easy to write at times, so I hope I didn't screw up too badly *winces* Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.

I hope to see you all back in the next part! I wish you all a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/insert holiday you celebrate!

Cuddles

Melissa



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