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The Attraction in Opposition	By : freakenbree Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company. I am not making profits from this fandom. All rights reserved to J.K.Rowling and copyrights.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: Love me some Draco/Harry! Doing this story alongside my other (Snape/Harry) pairing story called, “Coming Home to You” so check it out! I’ll be staggering the chapters to keep an equal update to both stories.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company. All rights are reserved and this merely a fandom in which I claim no financial stake.

Warnings for chapter: violence, sexual content of an explicit nature, language, and relations between two male characters.

The Attraction in Opposition

-Chapter One-

The Comfort in Denial

Harry shifted contently underneath his sleep miasma, drawing a comfortable sigh from the warmth. He curled further into the warmth, allowing it to envelop him and catapult him back into his enthralling dream world.

“That’s right Potter,” a sultry baritone voice said from above him as he wrapped his inexperienced mouth around the head of their erection tasting the beaded pre-emission. He licked at it greedily, rolling it over his tongue and relishing in the taste.

Hands pressed hard to his shoulder, bringing him forward as he opened his mouth wider to accommodate the flesh. A guttural groan, and then Harry was swallowing the hot mess of bitter, salty liquid down his throat.

“Merlin,” the voice hissed. “Your mouth is so bloody hot and wet for me, much like your backside I figure. How does it feel to be dominated by another, Potter? Beg me for it!”

Moaning against the delicious words, Harry rubbed his hard erection through his trousers with the pad of his hand. His body yearned for the other, but for what he was not sure of. He only knew that he needed. He needed so vehemently that it was beginning to become excruciating.

“Please take me, Malfoy,” he heard himself groan.

Harry snapped awake, his body surging forward and the perspiration trailing from his forehead to run down the sides of his temple. He squeezed the material of the mattress as he did a quick once over of the room before relaxing back into the bed. He adjusted himself as his straining erection threatened to break through the cloth of his pajama trousers.

“Bugger,” he breathed. Why was he dreaming about Malfoy? Even more so, why was he dreaming about the platinum blonde Slytherin letting Harry suck him off? ‘Please take me, Malfoy’ his voice was still ringing in his ears, making his stomach turn violently. Blasted hormones!

He was not a bloody puff! Certainly not for that snake and arrogant prat!

Absolutely not!

Lowering his hand and ensuring the silencing charms held Harry rubbed himself through the cover of clothing. His turgid flesh ached beneath his unforgiving hand; he knew rubbing himself through the clothing was not enough for his completion. Pushing down the waistband of his trousers, he exposed the reddened flesh to the bite of the cold air. Breathing deeply, he stroked himself despite his disgust with his own appendages.

‘Your mouth is so bloody hot and wet for me, much like your backside I figure,’ Malfoy’s low, silky voice wafted his senses and he sped his strokes in response.

‘How does it feel to be dominated by another, Potter?’ his hand yanked dutifully, and he let out a groan of approval.

“Bloody brilliant,” he retorted.

‘Beg me for it!’

His body tensed with his impending orgasm and his other hand snaked between his wide open legs to tease his twitching sphincter. He rubbed it before pressing his index finger inside slightly. The heat of arousal bubbled dangerously in his belly.

“Please!”

Waves of pleasure rolled over him as his body convulsed into his powerful orgasm. Hot, white liquid spurted over his slightly exposed abdomen and pajama shirt. He rode out the tremors with an arched neck and the lick of dried, teeth abused lips. Numbed by the sensations, his hand dropped from the softening organ, his breathing erratic and labored.

For the fourth time that week, he tossed himself off to the image of Malfoy. Bloody great! He was wanking off to an aristocratic ninny like Draco Malfoy.

*

“I have little time for your banter,” Hermione said indignantly to Ron who rolled his eyes at her. Standing from the table, she gave Ron a sideways glance before stomping off.

Silently for the past few minutes, Harry had strayed a few looks over to the Slytherin table and a certain fair-haired wizard who had appeared several times this week in his dreams. After Hermione had left in her rage, Harry was finally brought back to Ron who was shoving his face with all the food he could manage. Harry just smiled at his friend, humored by Ron’s insatiable appetite.

“What did you two fight over this time?”

“Bloody hell if I know,” Ron over extenuated the shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll let you know when she isn’t pissed at me, mate. Save me a whole lot of breath.”

Laughing heartily, Harry merely agreed with his friend as his eyes once more strayed to Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin sent him a glower when their eyes met. Quickly turning away from the pale-eyed wizard, Harry did his best to busy himself with his food.

*

“Potter,” the ever present scowl adorned the blonde’s face. The icy blue depths captured his emerald green eyes causing the boy’s façade to slip ever so slightly. He absently registered the rather strong build of the tall Slytherin. Platinum hair, silky to touch no doubt, fell around the teen’s eyes, framing elegantly shaped cheekbone and shifted when he arched his neck and jutted his chin upwards. Pale almost translucent skin peeked from the black of the man’s robes—interrupted by the soft curve of collarbone and jugular, pulsating under the other’s fury. Harry vaguely thought what it might taste and feel like—would that porcelain flesh be as baby soft as it appeared?

It was well after the first few of Harry’s classes when he ran into the face of his dreams; the blush threatened to creep over his cheeks at the sight of the other when he realized he had gazed a bit too long and delayed his usual retort to the rich adolescent Slytherin. Harry stiffened and kept his face as impassive as he could assemble against the rapid beating of his heart. He regarded the boy with a scowl of his own, curling his lip in disgust.

“Malfoy, shouldn’t you be off sticking your nose up Snape’s arse,” he said coolly.

Hard wall met his backside as the teen pushed him against it, Malfoy‘s eyes boring into his with malice. Fingers curled and bit into the flesh of his shoulders through the material of his robes. The strength was not lost on Harry; it was apparent that Draco Malfoy was no weak, skinny boy but in fact a strong, muscled man.

“Should it not be the same for Dumbledore’s Golden Boy?” Harry did his best to keep his body from reacting to the close proximity. The smell of hints of cinnamon and pumpkin-vanilla aftershave wafted over him, and he curled his lip further to keep the desire from showing through. He did not find this disgusting aristocratic ninny appealing; he would never accept that his body was wayward against his inner most thoughts.

“Get away from me, you arrogant prat!” Harry shoved Malfoy bodily away from him, causing the blonde to stumble backwards. After a few moments, Malfoy regained his footing and composure, sending Harry a glare before stalking off down the corridor.

Harry swallowed around the heavy heaving of his chest and pressed his head back against the stone of the unforgiving wall behind him. Licking his lips underneath the trembling in his body, he regretfully remembered the smell of cinnamon before he pushed off the wall and headed opposite of the other.

*

Night fell over Hogwarts like a dark blanket; the once lit corridors masked in shadows aside from the plethora of windows sporadic along them. Harry knew he should be in Gryffindor Tower, easing into sleep for the night, but he was fearful of what dreams he may end up facing. Instead, he snuck beneath the cover of his Invisibility Cloak, keeping his footsteps light and his body noiseless as he walked to the Astronomy Tower.

When he reached the empty room donned with a window that revealed the beauty of the night’s sky, he found a soft sigh at his lips. It was often a haven for him to come here and let his thoughts run feral. Letting the cloak slip from him to the floor, he stepped to the window and placed warm palms to ice cold stone. Pressing his searing forehead to the glass of the window, he let out a breath he had not been fully aware he had been holding.

Lost to his thoughts, Harry barely had time to register the soft echo of shoes hitting stone and the shuffling of robes breaking through the eerie quiet of the tower. Hot air tickled the back of his exposed neck and the voice he often heard in his dreams was whispering in his ear.

“Lucky you I am not Snape, Potter,” the voice said causing him to tense. He fought to maintain an even face as he turned to meet two icy blue depths glistening with mirth. Malfoy’s arms were crossed against his chest, putting his weight on one leg which tilted him to one side. His hair hung loosely about his face which seemed luminescent under the moonlight. This man was the very reason he was out and now he was forced to face the truth of his growing desire.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, sneaking a hand to adjust his hardness and hope Malfoy did not catch sight of it while he did. He let out a deep breath and shook his head, moving to pass the snarky Slytherin. He did not trust his voice would be as calm as he was doing his best to keep his face. A hand clutched roughly at his upper arm, jolting him backwards and stopping his progression away from the enticing man.

“Not going to mouth off to me Potter?”

“I have nothing to say,” he swallowed around the burning in his chest. It was true though. What could he possibly say that would make the other boy leave him alone? Malfoy was looking to humiliate him, and he refused to allow the opportunity to present itself.

“Then use that mouth in another way,” the hand drew him closer so the Slytherin’s mouth was right at his ear. Delicious tremors ran the length of his skin. The request was a bit too tempting for his taste, and he pulled his arm out of the teen’s grasp.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Puff,” Harry breathed before he was for the second time that day hitting a stone wall and at the mercy of his offender. His bones ricocheted off the hard, unyielding surface, and his head almost cracked in the impact. Malfoy was inches from his face, arm pressed impossibly at Harry’s throat, and the Slytherin’s wand in his abdomen. Harry blinked back tears and nausea as his head swirled with dizziness.

“Puff,” he scoffed. “Unlike you Potter, I would only delight of having you on your knees at my mercy.”

The air around Harry felt heavy and dizzying—probably partly due to the loss of oxygen from the other’s arm constricting his airway and the impact to his head. Harry struggled slightly before lolling his head back, his vision tunneling. Finally after his throat was released, he slid to the floor as Malfoy towered over him. Despite the vindication the other had previously voiced, it seemed he would not take advantage of Harry even in his weakened state. The man merely watched him curiously as if studying him like a bug underneath his shoe about ready to crush it.

Harry’s eyes were terribly unfocused even with his specs still on his nose, slightly tilted granted. Breathing deeply, he did his best to focus on the other above him, biting back the dizziness that threatened to throw him into a world of darkness. He had overcome worse than Malfoy—he would not be beaten.

“Well you have your chance Malfoy,” his voice was hoarse as he made his best effort at a glare. Malfoy merely chuckled darkly. The taller wizard knelt to his level, eyes boring into his in answer to his challenge. A smirk sat on those lush lips causing Harry to swallow against the temptation to sate his query of whether they were just as illicit as they appeared.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you Potter,” Malfoy hissed. “Being at my mercy.”

Harry’s tongue peeked out, running over his dry lips and moistening them; the other watched him do so, something passing through impenetrable depths. The prospects of the situation were making him ache in between his legs, his hand fisting in refusal to near his traitorous organ.

“A boy as unappealing as you barely registers my interest, Potter,” Malfoy uttered with the wave of his hand. “Potter child does not appeal to my high standards. You are unkempt and boisterous with a slight boyish form. I like my conquests subservient and beautiful.”

Clenching his hands, he drove nails into palm. “Thank Merlin for that. I would rather throw myself in front of Voldemort at the end of his wand then let you put your filthy hands on me.”

Malfoy regarded him with a smile dripping with malevolence, “Now Potter, denial will get you nowhere considering you are incapable of deceit—being Gryffindor and all. Should you decide to stop your inept attempts at hiding your desire for me, I may be able to tame that animal in you though it would probably sicken me to do so. I am rather apt to help a lesser wizard, however.”

Harry drew as far back against the wall behind him, his head protesting the movement, but he painted himself into the stone nonetheless. “You disgust me.”

“Of which I take much pride in,” Malfoy said while rising from the floor. He gave a low, spiteful chuckle before walking from the tower and allowing Harry to contemplate the interlude.

*

“Blimey Harry,” Ron said as he came round Harry’s bed. “You look like hell.”

“Yeah,” he ran hands through his tangled tresses. “I don’t feel so well today.”

“Maybe you should visit the hospital wing,” the concern in the stocky red head was evident.

“I should be fine,” Harry dismissed his friend as he rose and dressed himself for the day. His head spun at the quick movements causing him to sway, his friend catching the upper portion of his arm. Ron gave him an agonized gaze, but Harry feigned a smile. “’m fine, really Ron.”

After several long moments consisting of his friend’s eyeful battle, Ron shook his head and pulled away.

“Okay mate,” the voice low. “Just go to the infirmary if it gets worse.”

Harry nodded faintly and they both made their way to the common room to meet Hermione. Harry’s body was betraying him, weak against his footsteps. Lately, it seemed his body was in a constant state of betrayal.

Following his two friends, purposefully keeping himself trailing behind them, they made their way to the large dining hall. The hall was loud with chatter like that of previous mornings. Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table, watching him as they walked in—his was more of a half-walk, half-stumble of sorts. The Slytherin’s eyes were entrancing; they immediately captured Harry’s in a special stupor despite the exchange from the night before. However, like a sudden hit to the head, Harry felt overwhelmed by dizziness that disabled him. Harry grew breathless and clasped to the stone column as his vision faded in and out; his knees buckled and went to jelly as if boneless and his body immediately felt heavy. He lolled his head backwards in the sudden weight of his skull. He barely caught sight of those pair of icy blue depths widen as he heard Hermione gasp just before he slipped into a dark void that was silent and vacant.

*

When Harry finally found himself waking, the light was gone signaling that night had rolled through. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and putting on his spectacles from the small tableside near his cot, he gave a look about the room. Seems he was the only one to be residing in the infirmary tonight. The familiar medi-witch came bustling through, her eyes alerting him to the oncoming lecture.

“Mister Potter,” she said doing a quick diagnostic check. “What in heaven’s have you been doing?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Harry said rubbing the back of his head.

“Malnutrition and sleep deprivation, Mister Potter,” she chided. “The state of you is astonishing.”

The lump in his throat was growing causing him to swallow with every blink. He felt foolish and kept his eyes to his fidgeting hands. “I have been having nightmares.”

They certainly felt like nightmares though his body would argue otherwise. With the constant need to toss off and lack of appetite due to his disdain for his own actions, the last week had been a series of sleepless nights and meals gone untouched.

With a nod of her head, obviously not entirely happy with his response, she handed him a few vials she had grabbed from her stores. “You are to eat every meal. Miss Granger has agreed to alert me if you do not and take a sleeping draught before bedtime. Is that understood, Mister Potter?”

“Yes, madam,” his voice was quiet with shame. Fainting in the face of the entire Hogwarts student body, it was not something he was looking forward to facing. He was sure he would be the butt end of all the week’s jokes in the Slytherin house—one student in particular.

*

The following day had gone much like all the days previous. He simpered off from one class to the other, his eyes always seeming to find the head boy of Slytherin if the boy was within eye distance. Harry chided his every glance, denying it had anything to do with attraction and more to do with the next onset of insults the tall head boy might send his way—or hexes. Harry had dared a glance during Potion’s and received quite a nasty smack to the head by Professor Snape who took it as an opportunity to lay insult to injury as Malfoy snickered with his two henchmen at his side.

Ever more, the dreaming had continued despite the heavy draught Poppy had given him. He had awoken with another startling discovery, his pants drenched with his shame without touching himself. Worse, the erection had not been sated with just the one, and he was once more finding hand to erection, wanking in the privacy of his silencing charm among the other adolescents sleeping.

Potion’s was exceptionally brutal today. He had already received two smacks to the head for not pay attention.

“Do I have to remind you Mister Potter that my time is valuable and you waste it with your inability to focus?” He made to comment but was cut short. “That was rhetorical Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect.”

Malfoy watched him curiously, but his face was soon masked into a sneer, and Harry only did well to scowl back. He sighed and returned to his potion, having destroyed his ingredient that was supposed to be lightly ground and his was dust, blowing away its contents with each passing breeze.

“Harry, it’s to be lightly ground. Yours is powder,” Hermione chided from nearby. She stole a glance and when was content that Snape was out of hearing distance, continued with her true question. “Have you been well? You have not eaten much which Poppy stated is not quite enough.”

“Sorry,” Harry whispered back as he turned to his disintegrating ingredient. “Been a lot on my mind.”

She watched him precariously and then sent a look to Malfoy, “Anything to do with Malfoy?”

Harry was too shocked in which to retort right away.

“Shall I take all of Gryffindor’s points today? Ten points from Gryffindor and cease the chatter Miss Granger and Mister Potter.” The two shut their mouths deciding not to test their professor’s threat and continued with their potions.

*

“Are you going to answer my question, Harry?” Hermione had finally caught up with him when he had left Potion’s to make his way to Gryffindor tower. He was glad for the final class and had hoped that Hermione would have forgotten the question from earlier. Leave it to women to never forget something once said.

“It’s been a long week,” Harry said hoping to evade the question, but his quick-witted friend was hot on his heels.

“What does that have to do with Malfoy, Harry?”

“Where’s Ron?” Harry said looking from beyond her. She was deterred within the moment.

Her eyes darkened and her lips drew in a thin line. “He’s been avoiding me. I suspect he fears I might chastise him again for his lack of respect.”

“Should I bother to ask,” Harry said laughing.

“Better not,” she said smiling at Harry. “It will only do to anger me more. So back to Malfoy, why have you been watching him lately? You don’t think he’s up to something, do you?”

“Nothing like that,” Harry said evenly. He walked a bit quicker, her steps falling in line with his.

“Then what, Harry?”

“I,” Harry started. If Hermione was anything, it was discrete and trustworthy. “I’ve been having these dreams.”

“About?” she questioned.

“About…him and me…you know,” Harry said hoping she would catch on. Thankfully for him, her wits were often about her including in matters such as these.

“Oh,” she said her face contorting slightly before she regained impassiveness. “So do you feel you might fancy…Malfoy?”

Harry did a quick look about, but the corridor was surprisingly empty of any other. He sighed and turned to his friend, still maintaining a whisper. “I’m not sure, ‘Mione. I keep telling myself I don’t, but lately, everything leads me back to thinking about him.”

“Are you gay?” she said just as hushed.

“Dunno,” Harry replied truthfully. “Never really much thought about it.”

“Well I’m here you know,” she said giving him a slight pat. “You can’t really help what or who you dream about Harry.”

“Thanks ‘Mione,” Harry gave her a feigned smile though his nerves were still firing in light of his new discovery. Thankfully, he could talk to someone about it now. Maybe Hermione could help him figure things out.

End Note: Thanks for reading! Will be updating as soon as I can.
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The Attraction in Opposition