Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Snowbound	By : GeminiFaerie Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5523 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Snowbound
- 1
AN: This story was orignially written as a gift fic for AWickedMemory as part of the 2014 Christmas Harry/Draco OwlPost on LiveJournal.
“Next time I see Parkinson, I’m going to hex her mouth shut,” Harry growled as he led the way through the snow-covered field.
“Not if I get to her first,” Draco countered, “Because by the time I am done with her, she won’t have a mouth to hex! Stupid girl never could keep her mouth shut. How much further?”
“Maybe another ten minutes,” Harry replied, ignoring Draco’s groan, “Let’s just hope we get there before the storm starts.” Draco mumbled something in reply, but Harry couldn’t make out what it was, and he didn’t feel like asking; instead, he thought about how they had gotten into this situation in the first place.
After the war, Harry and Ron had joined the Auror program, just as everyone had expected. No one, however, had expected Draco Malfoy to also be one of the new recruits; to everyone’s surprise, Draco had excelled at Auror training and, when they graduated at the end of two years, been assigned as Harry’s partner. They worked well together, even considering the spectacular arguments (i.e. duels) they had on occasion.
Harry would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes he angered Draco on purpose, just so that he could make sure his partners attention was solely on him. Strange, yes, but Harry had long ago discovered that he craved Draco’s attention; he wanted more than friendship, but he could barely admit it to himself, let alone act on his desires. So, Harry had kept his confusing feelings to himself, and he and Draco had become friends, as well as highly-efficient Auror partners; a full year out of training and they had never failed a mission…until tonight.
For the past two weeks, the two former rivals had been on dangerous assignment in Russia; there were reports of an enclave made up of former Death Eaters that was terrorizing the locals, and Harry and Draco had infiltrated it, playing on the rumors that still circulated claiming Harry was a dark wizard and that was how he defeated Voldemort with such a simple spell. Everything had been going well, and they had just received word that back up would be arriving this morning so that they could make the arrests and be home in time for Christmas Dinner, when disaster had struck. Harry and Draco had just arrived at the hotel where the Death Eater’s always met, when Pansy Parkinson had walked in. The former Slytherin had immediately spotted Draco and, when he failed to respond to her advances, announced to the Death Eater’s that Draco and Harry were aurors; Pansy walked out of the hotel before the first curse was fired, not looking back once.
Harry and Draco had immediately erected a shield to protect themselves, but quickly realized they were outnumbered; instead of only fifteen Death Eater’s, they were surrounded by nearly thirty. Nott Senior, their leader, had failed to mention all the new recruits they had gained in Russia. Both Harry and Draco were hit with several curses as they tried to take down the dark wizards, although none required immediate attention. After nearly an hour of fighting, they realized that they would never hold out until their back up arrived, and so Draco had activated their emergency portkey.
Unfortunately, the portkey was hit by a hex seconds before it activated and, instead of taking them to the safe house, it had dropped them at the edge of a snow-covered forest. Lucky for them, they could see the safe house on the other side of the snowy meadow, and they had proceeded to make their way to it. Several times they had sunk into snow that was deeper than it appeared, and Draco had sprained his ankle when crossing a stretch of ice. After nearly two hours of walking, they finally made it to the safe house.
“Finally!” Harry said wearily as he opened the door to the little cabin, “We made it!”
“About bloody time,” Draco grumbled, following him inside and then locking the door, “The past two hours have been the worst in my entire life!” He scowled as he pushed past Harry to the small living room where a fire was already lit in the fireplace. “I’m cold, wet, and tired, and my ankle is swollen!” He threw himself on the couch and lifted his feet off the floor, elevating his sore ankle.
“Well, we can tend to our injuries now,” Harry said, plopping down on a chair, “If you hand me your supplies I’ll find a pain potion for you.”
“Idiot,” Draco scoffed, “First we need a potion to counteract frostbite, and I wouldn’t trust you to find it even if I were blind.” Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag, then frowned when it didn’t immediately resize itself. He drew his wand and cast a spell to enlarge it, scowling when it-and the six spells he cast afterwards-failed. “Well, now I know why our warming charms failed,” Draco sighed, “We appear to be in a magical dead zone.”
“Great,” Harry sighed as well, “We need those potions, and the rest of our supplies.” He frowned for a moment, trying to remember when the warming charm had failed. “I think,” He began slowly, “I think I could walk outside of the dead zone and be back within an hour. You can take a shower while I’m gone.”
“Not a chance,” Draco said, “That’s practically a blizzard out there; you would never be able to find your way back. Besides, this is a safe house, which means there must be some supplies.” He looked around the room, and his gaze came to rest on a bookcase against the far wall. “Bring me that basket.” Harry followed the direction of his gaze and saw pale green woven basket on the middle shelf of the bookcase; he quickly got it and brought it over to Draco, who only took a few seconds to locate the potions they would need.
“Take this one first,” he instructed, handing Harry a blue potion, “It’s for frostbite. Do you have any injuries from the battle?” Draco drank his own frostbite potion, then drank a red one for his swollen ankle, tipping his head back and letting out a sigh of relief as the pain faded away.
“Nothing major,” Harry replied after he took his potion, “The potion helped, but I still think I’ll take a hot shower before I do anything else.”
“You should eat first,” Draco frowned, “The potion uses some of your energy to heal you, and if you don’t eat right away you could pass out.”
“I’ll be fine,” Harry brushed the warning aside, “I just want a quick shower, and then I’ll eat.” Harry got up and walked past Draco, only for the blond to stand up and grab his arm, causing Harry to hiss in pain and jerk away.
“You are injured,” Draco accused, narrowing his eyes at his partner; he grabbed the brunet’s arm again, and noticed that his skin was unusually warm. “Potter, you idiot.” Draco shook his head, “I believe you have a fever, which means that your injury is likely infected. I need to see it so that I can determine which potion to give you.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Harry scowled, pulling his arm away again, “Just give me a generic healing potion or whatever.”
“If I give you the wrong potion it could make things worse,” Draco protested, “You need to get out of those wet clothes anyway, so just take your robes off and let me see. Unless, of course, you want me to get fired for letting you suffer with a-possibly life threatening-injury; you know I will be blamed if anything happens to you.” Harry kept his glare up for another moment before sighing in defeat because Draco was right; getting injured was part of being an auror, but the last time he had kept quiet about an injury he had ended up in St. Mungo’s because of a slow-acting curse, and Draco had nearly been killed by a mob who thought that he had allowed Harry to go untreated as a way of getting revenge on Harry for defeating Voldemort.
“Fine,” Harry capitulated, shrugging out of his Aurors robe and then reaching to pull off the jumper he wore underneath, “Can you see if you can start a fire? And shouldn’t you take your wet clothes off too?”
“Why Harry, if you wanted to see me without clothes, all you had to do was ask,” Harry’s face was hidden in his shirt, which was currently wrapped around his head, but he could hear the smirk.
“Prat,” Harry shot back, finally wrestling the shirt away just in time to see Draco step back from the fireplace after starting a cheery fire, “I see more than enough in the showers after training.”
“You’ve been looking at me then,” Draco teased, slipping out of his Aurors robe to reveal a pale, toned chest, strong abs and-Harry quickly looked away, hoping Draco hadn’t caught him staring. “Like what you see?”
“Do you always go without any clothes on?” Harry demanded, looking fixedly at the fire.
“I had clothes on,” Draco replied, “Aurors robes count as clothing, and it is much more comfortable to go without anything else…except, of course, when you get stuck in the snow as we did today.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t freeze to death,” Harry mumbled.
“I had extra heating charms on my robes; the charms were woven in, so they took a bit longer to fade than the ones we cast after we landed.” Draco’s voice had gotten closer, but Harry still jumped when a firm hand rested on his back; “Now then, let me see your injury.” Harry allowed Draco to turn him around, and saw the blond frowning as he examined both of Harry’s arms; Harry raised his left arm, revealing the gash that ran underneath it and down his side, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.
“A curse that passes through clothing without leaving a mark, but still injures the victim,” Draco murmured, “I haven’t seen this one before. I can’t give you a potion, because I don’t know what type of curse was used, and I have no way of telling without running a scan; at least it doesn’t appear to be infected.”
“Great, then can we move on?” Harry demanded, “You mentioned something about food, and I still want a shower.”
“You go eat something,” Draco instructed, “and I will see if I can find a salve for your injury; afterwards you can take your shower.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Harry gave a mocking salute, earning himself a despairing shake of the head from his partner, and then went through the archway into the kitchen.
Harry had just finished making a plate of sandwiches-enough for both Draco and himself-when the blond entered the kitchen, two small metal pots in his hands.
“I have two salves that should help,” Draco announced, “One of them is water proof, so I can help you apply it before your shower. The other one should be applied before bed, or first thing in the morning and-why are you still wearing those wet clothes? Get them off at once, or the potion I gave you earlier will be useless.”
“I am not walking around starkers,” Harry protested.
“Why not?” Draco asked, “If you are concerned about me, I assure you I have no problem with you going natural. Oh, are you embarrassed about something? I can go get you a towel or-”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Harry interrupted, “but, as cold as it is, wouldn’t it be a good idea to cover up with something?”
“The house is plenty warm enough to go without clothes,” Draco countered, “Do you want to get sick from wearing wet clothes?” Harry glared, then turned his back and stripped his remaining clothing away; he spotted an apron hanging on a nearby hook, and quickly tied it around his waist to preserve at least some of his modesty.
“There? Happy?” he asked sarcastically.
“Ecstatic,” Draco replied, calmly biting into one of the sandwiches Harry had made, “Of course, I would have been happier if you hadn’t covered up so quickly, but I must admit that apron looks very fetching on you; the little pink hearts are especially adorable.” Harry felt his face flushing, and decided against responding, choosing to eat a sandwich instead.
As they ate, Harry couldn’t stop himself from sneaking tiny glances at the blond sitting across from him; he’d seen Draco naked before of course, but never for more than a few seconds when they showered after Auror training. Now, he had a chance to admire Draco’s pale skin-he wasn’t quite as pale as he was during school, but Draco would never be as dark as Harry, either-and the defined muscles that he’d seen accentuated by Auror robes so many times. Draco’s hands were bigger than Harry’s, and his fingers long and slim; he often wondered what it would be like to have those hands roaming his body and-
“Finished, Harry?” The question startled Harry, and he dropped the sandwich he had picked up.
“Huh? Um, yeah,” he replied, “I’m, um, I’m done eating.”
“Good,” Draco stood up, picking up the two salves he had set on the table, “The let’s go get that injury taken care of so we can have our shower.” Harry got up to follow him, his mind short-circuiting at the words “our shower”; of course, he knew Draco didn’t mean it that way, but his mind was more than willing to provide detailed suggestions for what they could do during their shower.
Draco entered the bathroom first, and immediately set the salves down so that he could start the shower.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked as he watched Draco adjust the water temperature.
“Since magic doesn’t work, I am adjusting the temperature,” was the reply, “The first salve actually needs to be applied to wet skin, so I thought it would be easiest if I joined you in the shower.”
“Oh, um, that isn’t really necessary,” Harry said, “I mean, can’t you just apply it after the shower?”
“It will work best if applied in the shower,” Draco said, “Besides, without magic there is no telling how much hot water we have, and I have no desire to take a cold shower, do you?” Draco picked up one of the salves and stepped into the shower, and Harry was transfixed by the sight of water cascading down that amazing body; actually, perhaps he should take a cold shower…with the way his erection was tenting the apron he still wore, it seemed he could use one.
“Well?” Harry jerked his gaze up at the impatient question, and saw that Draco had his hand extended, “Are you going to lose the apron and join me, or would you prefer a cold shower?”
Draco had extended his hand to Harry several times over the course of the past three years, starting with the truce on their first day of Auror training, but, no matter how many times it happened, Harry always found himself remembering that first time, when they were both eleven, that Draco had extended his hand and Harry had refused. He always wondered what would have happened if he had accepted Draco’s friendship, and swore that he would never again regret a missed opportunity with the boy-now a man-who had occupied his thoughts for so long, and so, as always, he found himself unable to turn away. With one hand Harry reached around to untie the apron, and it fluttered to the floor as he placed his other hand in Draco’s, allowing the blond to pull him into the shower; the water was, of course, perfect.
“That injury is worse than I thought,” Draco murmured, lifting Harry’s arm up and then tracing his finger gently over the cut, which started on the underside of his wrist, ran the length of his arm, down his side, and then curved to end just above his buttocks; Harry shivered, and had to close his eyes to regain control of himself, which is why he missed Draco’s smirk.
“Just stand still and let me apply the salve, okay?”
Harry nodded, and then he was surrounded by the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. He opened his eyes, and saw that Draco had scooped out a small amount of salve, and then watched as the blond applied it to the long scratch, beginning at his wrist. Draco’s touch was firm, but gentle, and Harry couldn’t stop himself from imagining that hand massaging a more intimate part of his body. When Draco began applying salve to his side, Harry had to close his eyes again; the touch was…sensual, and Harry bit his lip to hold back a moan.
“Alright there, Harry?” Draco whispered in his ear, “Does this hurt?”
“N-no,” Harry replied, “It’s fine, Draco.” The blond hmm’ed behind him, and then those fingers began rubbing salve into the last bit of the scratch, just above his buttocks. Harry felt Draco move to stand behind him, and then gasped when he felt the tip of an erection brush against his thigh; Draco stilled behind him for an instant, then returned to applying the salve, as if he had been making sure Harry wasn’t about to bolt.
After a few minutes, Draco’s arm brushed against Harry as the blond reached around him, and Harry heard the salve being set down on the shelf in front of him. Thinking that Draco was done Harry began to step away, only to freeze when he felt both of Draco’s hands on his shoulders; those amazing, strong hands Harry had admired for so long began to trail up and down his arms, before sliding across his chest and down his stomach to wrap around his waist, causing Harry to moan softly when he felt Draco’s erection press against him more firmly.
“What’s this, Harry?” came Draco’s teasing voice in his ear as the blond’s hands glided towards his erection, “Enjoying yourself?”
“No more than you are,” Harry retorted, calling up his courage and grinding himself on Draco’s cock.
“I’m not denying it,” Draco said as one hand rested on Harry’s hip, holding him still, while the other loosely encircled his hardened member. “How long, Harry? How long have you wanted me?”
“Conceited prat, aren’t you?” Harry attempted to tease back, only to gasp when Draco bent his head and bit down on his collar bone; it wasn’t enough to break skin, but it did cause Harry to lean most of his weight on the blond, and answer the question; “Years,” he admitted, “I’ve wanted you for years.”
“Oh, good,” Draco tightened his grip on Harry just enough to be pleasurable, and began stroking, “Because I’ve wanted you for years as well. Tell me, Harry; what do you want? Do you want me to bring you off here, like this? Or perhaps suck your cock? Or-”
“I want you inside me,” Harry interrupted, tilting his head back and turning it to the side so that he could press a soft kiss to Draco’s neck, “but first, I want you to kiss me.” Draco’s hand slipped away from Harry’s cock as the brunet turned around in his arms; Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and pulled him closer, while Draco placed one hand on Harry’s hip and the other on the back of his neck. The kiss started out as all kisses do, with two pairs of lips pressed together, but quickly became so much more. Draco nipped at Harry’s bottom lip and gained entrance to that moist cavern, which tasted sweet, like treacle tart, and their tongues dueled for dominance. The hand on Harry’s hip slid down to cup his ass, and the hand on the back of his neck slid up to tangle in impossibly soft, thick black locks. Draco pulled back from the kiss a little, but Harry’s tongue immediately followed to continue their playful duel; a duel which the brunet ceded with a moan when Draco sucked on his tongue, making his knees go week.
Draco broke the kiss to pepper Harry’s neck and chest with kisses, and his hands fumbled around Harry’s back as he searched for the salve he had set aside earlier. Draco made a triumphant sound as he located the salve, and he quickly coated his fingers with it; Harry stiffened in his arms as on lube-slicked finger traced a trail down his spine, but he slowly relaxed as the finger massaged his rim. Draco captured his lips in another kiss as the first finger breached him quieting Harry’s gasp and trying to distract him from the discomfort.
Draco carefully stretched Harry, making sure he adjusted to one finger before adding a second and scissoring them. Harry tensed in response, but the salve, which had already healed the cut left by the curse, took away most of the pain, and soon Draco was able to add a third finger. Draco pulled his fingers out for a moment, and lifted Harry’s leg, having it rest on his arm so that he had better access; when he re-inserted his fingers, he was able to reach further and brush against the little bundle of nerves that had Harry crying out as he was assaulted with pleasure.
“Oh…fuck!” Harry cried, “Draco! I-don’t stop!”
“Do you want me to bring you off like this?” Draco’s voice was sin in his ear, “Do you want me to finger fuck you until you come all over both of us? Hmm? Or do you want something more?”
“More,” Harry moaned breathlessly, “Want more…want you-ah! Fuck, right there! Want you in me!” Harry whimpered in protest as Draco pulled away, allowing his leg to drop back to the floor.
“Then shall we take this to the bedroom?”
It took a moment for Draco’s words to register, but when they did Harry nodded enthusiastically. He was in a daze as he followed Draco into the bedroom and allowed the blond to guide him onto the bed. Grey eyes were dark with desire, and Harry shuddered as he thought about what would come next, but Draco wasn’t in a hurry. He lay down between Harry’s legs so that they were chest to chest and initiated another kiss as his fingers traced the brunet’s opening before thrusting inside once again.
“Draco!” Harry pushed at his shoulders, “I’m ready; do it now!”
“Relax, love,” Draco laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “I just want to make sure I’ve prepared you enough; I can’t count on you to tell me when you’re hurt, as our mission this morning clearly proved, so I’m taking no chances. Do you want it like this? It would be easier for you on your hands and knees.”
“I want to see you,” Harry replied, then scowled at the blond, “You can’t hold this morning against me! I never even would have been hurt if it wasn’t for that bitch Pansy!”
“Ah, but Pansy wasn’t the one who prevented you from telling me about the injury was she?” Draco countered, “I understand you will get hurt, just as I will, but you need to tell me when it happens so I can take care of you.” Draco pulled his fingers free and knelt up, lifting and spreading Harry’s legs as he lined himself up, effectively ending the conversation before it could become an argument; he had already applied some salve to his erection to help ease the way. Draco pressed forward, locking gazes with Harry as he slowly penetrated him.
Harry gasped as Draco pushed inside; he was in a world of pressure, but the salve took away most of the pain so that there was only a slight burn as Draco’s cock filled him. Harry fought to keep his eyes open, entranced by the look of intense concentration on Draco’s face. When he finally felt Draco’s balls pressed against his own, Harry closed his eyes and pressed his head into the pillow, only to moan when Draco slowly withdrew and then quickly thrust back inside. Hands under his knees kept Harry spread wide as Draco began a steady pace, pulling slowly out and then pushing quickly back in, drawing soft gasps and low moans from the dark-haired man below him.
“More, Draco!” Harry pleaded, lifting his hips to meet each thrust; “Please…faster!”
“Anything you want, love,” Draco said, pulling Harry’s legs so that they were resting on his shoulders. Draco grabbed the brunet’s hips and increased his speed, thrusting in and out and making Harry squeak with the force of his movements. Draco watched the brunet squirm on the bed, dark hair tousled even more than usual and a deep flush on his face, and realized that he wanted more; he wanted to watch Harry come undone and know that it was because of him. Draco adjusted his grip on Harry and the angle of his thrusting, and was rewarded when Harry threw his head back in a silent scream. Having found Harry’s prostate, Draco worked to hit it as often as possible, and soon Harry was clenching his fists in his own hair in an attempt to ground himself as his hips worked to meet Draco’s every thrust. Draco felt Harry clench around him and knew that his lover was close.
“You look so amazing,” Draco said, his words interspersed by pants, “Love the way you look right now….love that it’s because of me.”
“All you,” Harry agreed, “Draco! So close! Merlin; Draco!” Harry’s body tensed as his orgasm hit, and then began convulsing as it broke over him, drowning him in pleasure. Draco tried to hold his own orgasm back, to ride out Harry’s first, but the unbelievable tightness and clenching did him in; his pace faltered for a few seconds, then he resumed thrusting, burying himself inside Harry over and over again until he came with a shout, spilling his seed deep inside the amazing man before him.
When it was done, Draco collapsed on top of Harry, twisting just enough so that he wouldn’t crush the other man with his weight.
“What now?” Harry asked, once he had gotten his breath back, “Was this…was it a one off?”
“Only if you want it to be,” Draco replied, “I don’t really do one night stands though.”
“Me neither,” Harry said happily, rolling them over so that he was on top, “Does this mean we’re…together?”
“Of course,” Draco tightened his arms around the brunet, “You’re mine now, Harry, and I have no intention of letting you go.”
“Good,” Harry lay his head down so that he could hear Draco’s heartbeat, “Because I’m not letting you go either. Although, maybe we should take another shower?”
“Later,” Draco said, “Right now I just want to enjoy this. Besides, no sense in showering when we’ll just be dirty again in about half an hour.”
“Oh, really?” Harry laughed, “Are you that certain I’m going to let you have me again so soon?”
“You know you won’t object,” Harry could hear the smirk in his voice, “However, if you’d prefer, I might consider letting you top next time.”
“Mmm, maybe later,” Harry murmured, feeling a wave of exhaustion come over him, “Nap first, then we can negotiate positions.”
“I have a better idea,” Draco countered, “Whoever wakes first gets to choose the positions.”
“Deal,” Harry agreed, yawning as he settled into Draco’s embrace, “Remind me to thank Pansy for blowing our cover…after I hex her mouth closed.” Draco chuckled softly, carding his fingers through Harry’s dark locks as the brunet relaxed against him. Soon, both men were asleep, neither knowing nor caring about what was currently going on in the outside world.
The next morning the two lovers would wake to find the Daily Prophet on the nightstand; the cover story would be about the discovery of a Death Eater enclave whose capture was credited to Aurors Potter and Malfoy. The paper would go on to say that the partners had been given a weekend off for a job well done, and were currently enjoying a weekend get-away courtesy of the ministry. Sitting on top of the paper would be a short note,
‘If you are reading this note then you two have finally come to your senses and acknowledged your feelings for one another-it’s about time! You should know that Pansy works with me, and we devised this plan together-you were never in any danger, as a team of Aurors was standing by to help if things went bad. Of course, it would have been much simpler if you had activated the port key sooner, but there is nothing that can be done about that now. I will fill you in on all the details when you get back; your magic will be working again by now, but you won’t be able to leave until the weekend is over. Enjoy your weekend away, and when you return, Draco, please by Harry some new clothes. Merry Christmas!
Love,
Hermione.’
- 1
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