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Infernally Mundane Methods	By : lumierre Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3679 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or concepts from Harry Potter and make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Infernally Mundane Methods
- 1
This is a re-post of a story I posted around 5-6 years ago under a different name. I’m starting a new profile and wanted to collate all of my works on one page, which is why I’ve re-posted it. Hope you enjoy!
Strolling around the castle at midnight was fast becoming a nightly ritual, Harry pondered as he made his way to the fourth floor. He ignored the biting chill of the night air on his arms as he made his way along the corridor, staring out of the windows. Harry was particularly fond of this corridor at night. The large windows decorating the expanse of one wall gave an unobstructed view of the lake. He found it calming to simply walk to this spot and watch the moon’s reflection on the glassy surface, occasionally fractured by winds or the giant squid. Harry paused and let out a soft sigh, stopping to rest against a windowsill and vaguely listening for Peeves, Filch or Mrs. Norris.
Ever since he had returned to Hogwarts for his makeshift seventh year, sleep had been a distant dream. Too many memories that lingered within the repaired castle came to haunt him in his dreams, leaving him wary of falling into a slumber. He had found that a late-night walk while his fellow dormmates were sleeping calmed him and tired him out enough to allow for virtually dreamless nights. This was made decidedly easier by the ‘eighth-year rules’, which were in place to give the oldest students some freedom because, really, they shouldn’t be there. These included the lack of a curfew at night; so long as you didn’t make too much noise and remained pretty inconspicuous, you could roam to modified corridors right though the night. Something that Harry now took advantage of very often.
Letting out another quiet sigh Harry moved from his position and walked further down the corridor until he reached a stone bench that sat opposite the windows, and offered a comfortable (ish) view of the lake without standing. Sitting down, his mind wandered back to what lay waiting for him in Gryffindor tower, and he quickly banished the thoughts with a shake of his head. The small room he now shared with Ron and Dean Thomas bore only bad memories for the Saviour. Everytime Harry looked at his freckled best friend (only back at Hogwarts due to his bushy-haired girlfriend’s constant nagging), he saw Fred’s death in his eyes and the pain he had inadvertently caused by dragging the Weasley family into the war even more. Thinking of Ron also brought forth thoughts of Ginny. Poor, sweet Ginny who’s heartbroken expression would remain with Harry forever as he clumsily tried to explain his feelings, or lack thereof, when it came to the ginger-haired young woman. And looking at Dean Thomas only reminded Harry of the events at Malfoy Manor, and the bloodstained memories that were linked to that. This linked to Draco Malfoy, who-
No. Thinking about what lay back at Gryffindor Tower was not a thought process he wished to take.
Deciding that he had spent long enough in the draughty castle corridor Harry stood and turned back, walking along the moon-lit corridor and out onto the grand staircase. Trying not to think about the influx of memories that assaulted him just by walking through a corridor, he didn’t notice when the staircase he usually took to get back to the Tower had moved, and was facing in the opposite direction. Unknowingly Harry walked on up the stairs and was about to take the next staircase when he realised that there wasn’t one there. Confused, he did a double take and realised what he had done. Harry turned around, prepared to take the set of stairs back down when an incredibly hard something hit him from behind, pitching him forwards.
Grabbing onto the banister to stop him from falling to his death Harry used the momentum to push himself backwards. Unfortunately, he didn’t plan on there being a person right behind him. Harry’s head turned in time to see a flash of platinum blond before he overbalanced and went tumbling into said person, pushing them both backwards and down. There was a crash as they fell, then a slam, followed by a small click and the dim light of the staircase was replaced by a gloomy looking darkness.
Stunned momentarily, Harry didn’t notice that the floor was particularly bony until it moved and started cursing him.
“Potter, you oaf! Get off me this instant!” A high, aristocratic voice yelled in his ear, coupled by a sharp shove of an elbow to Harry’s throat. Choking slightly, he moved backwards quickly until he felt cold stone at his back and sat down, panting slightly and massaging his sore throat.
“Merlin, Malfoy, there’s no need to bloody attack me!” Harry said, glaring at the Slytherin through the darkness. Though he couldn’t see the blonde’s face, the dark-haired teenager could recognise that voice anywhere, despite not having heard it for four months as the Slytherin was very skilled at avoiding Harry.
“I have every right to attack you if you push me into a broom cupboard and then land on top of me!” Came the snarky reply. Harry rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t push you into a broom cupboard Malfoy, I fell over. You were just in the way. Anyway, you’re the one who hit me first!” Harry retaliated.
“Hit you? Not likely, Potter. You were the one stood in front of the door as I opened it.” Harry couldn’t see it, but he imagined the familiar sneer ruining the blonde’s pale face.
Harry opened his mouth to let loose another barbed retort when he paused for a moment, thinking. Malfoy was obviously waiting for a reply and was surprised at the lack of one. “What?” He almost hissed.
“What in the name of Merlin were you doing in a broom cupboard at one in the morning, Malfoy?” Harry questioned, genuinely curious. There was no reply as the Slytherin suddenly stood up and began shaking the door in front of them. When nothing appeared to work, Malfoy growled and kicked the door viciously.
“Stupid bloody thing! Why won’t you open you-“ His ranting was cut off by a fiendish giggle. Harry’s heart sank.
“Is silly little baby Malfoy stuck inside his broom cupboard? Maybe he shouldn’t have spent so much time in there! Wee Peevsie knows what’s been happening here and now he’s locked you in!” Peeves’ delighted laughter slowly faded as he went away, no doubt to terrorise some sleeping first years or something equally Peeves-like.
“Bugger!” Malfoy cursed, sliding down the door until he was sat opposite Harry. “That little bastard will pay when I get out of here! You just wa-“
Harry cut him off. “When will we get out of here, Malfoy? Not that I don't love the prospect of spending time with you in a cupboard, but my bed is missing me and I don’t like to keep it waiting.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and the rolling of Malfoy’s eyes could practically be heard through the darkness.
“I don’t know, Potty. Sometime in the morning, probably. People will notice you’re missing and Peeves will say something and the whole damn school will get off their arses to go and find the fucking saviour.” Malfoy’s voice turned bitter towards the end.
Harry, now infinitely pissed off at the thought of spending the night in a cupboard with Malfoy, clenched his fists so he wouldn’t do anything stupid. His knuckles cracked.
“What, aren’t you going to say something back? About how no-one will bother to look for a scum-bag Death Eater who-“
“Shut up, Malfoy.” Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. “The war is over. I’ve accepted that. Everyone else in the fucking school has accepted that. I think it’s time that you did too.” He was met with a stony silence. “Come on, Malfoy. I’ve given up on this stupid animosity between us. Can’t you?”
“No.” Was the quickly given reply.
“Why?”
“I- I don’t know.” A sigh. Harry waited. “It’s just- I’ve spent my whole life being forced to believe that you were the bad one, that I should hate you, and then there’s always been all that tension between us and-” He cut off suddenly.
Harry was in slight shock. He hadn’t actually expected the blond to open up to him.”You don’t have to any more, Malfoy. Voldemort’s dead; he’s gone and he-“
“You think I don’t realise that!” Malfoy hissed, interrupting him. A pause. “Sorry. I guess it’s just old habits die hard. And turning over a new leaf has never exactly been my strong point.”
“It’s okay,” Harry replied, not knowing what else to say. There was an awkward silence that lasted for a few minutes. Harry suddenly heard a strange noise, and soon realised that Malfoy shivering against the wooden door. “Are you cold?” he asked.
“One tends to become cold when wearing only a pair of pyjama trousers whilst in a stone castle, Potter.” Harry ignored the strange feeling that shot through his lower belly at the revelation that Malfoy was only half dressed.
“Why don’t you cast a heating charm then?” The Gryffindor questioned.
“I don’t have my wand with me.” Malfoy sighed. Great, the both of them were stuck in here, wandless. Harry wished he’d listened to Hermione when she told him he should always have his wand with him.
“Hey, you never answered my question! What were you doing in a cupboard?!” Harry asked accusingly. He heard the Slytherin opposite him sigh, probably accepting that he could no longer escape the question.
“I often have trouble sleeping, and I find that sitting somewhere away from everyone else allows me to order my thoughts.” Was the emotionless reply.
Harry, surprisingly, felt a small smile lift the corners of his mouth at the revelation that he wasn’t the only one plagues with memories of the war. “Me too.” He said.
“What?”
“I don’t sit in cupboards, but I tend to walk along the fourth floor corridor. The view from the windows helps to calm me.” Harry had no idea why he was telling Malfoy all of this; he hadn’t even told Ron. Then again, he wasn’t locked in a broom cupboard with Ron now, was he?
Silence fell over the unlikely duo once more, before the Gryffindor decided to break it. “So, what do you want to do?”
“What?” For someone usually so aristocratic and composed, Malfoy certainly seemed to say ‘What?’ an awful lot.
“Well, we’re stuck in here for the foreseeable future, and I don’t know about you but I certainly don’t feel like sleeping right now. Might as well do something entertaining, right?” Harry reasoned.
“I suppose...” Malfoy sounded unsure. “Just what did you have in mind?”
Shocked that the Slytherin seemed to be humouring him, Harry didn’t wait for long. “I dunno, we could play Truths or something? Now that we’re no longer mortal enemies we could always get to know each other, right?” Harry could hardly believe what he was saying.
Another pause. “I guess... though does it have to be through such an infernally mundane method?” A hint of disdain was evident in Malfoy’s voice.
“Please, tell me your suggestions.”
“Truths it is then.”
“Great.” Harry smirked into the darkness victoriously. “Who wants to go first?” He questioned.
“You can,” the blond answered. “It was your idea to play, after all.”
“True. Right, okay then,” Harry thought for a moment. “Why did you come back to Hogwarts?”
“I figured that even if I couldn’t get a job I might as well do something worthwhile and finish my education.” Harry couldn’t hear any emotion in the reply.
“Why wouldn’t you get a job?” He asked on impulse.
“I was under the impression that this game worked on take turns. In which case, it is my turn to ask the question,” Came the cool response. Harry felt suitable chastised. “Why did you decide to return here? You could have gone and gotten any job you wanted at the drop of a hat, surely you must know that?”
“Partly because of Hermione’s nagging, and partly because I don’t want an easy ride. I want to earn the things I get, and so for me that meant coming back to school like any normal person. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like being famous. I’m perfectly content to just be Harry.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them.
“Hmmn,” Malfoy mused. “You’ve certainly changed from the Potter I once knew.”
“I’m still the same person, Malfoy. You were just too blind to see it before.” He smiled wryly. “Anyway, I think it’s my turn.”
“Indeed.”
Harry decided to return to the earlier unanswered question. “Why wouldn’t you be able to get a job?” he quizzed.
He heard Malfoy give an exasperated sigh. “Think about it, Potter. This is Draco Malfoy you’re talking to; notorious former death eater and a whole list of other unsavoury things. Do you honestly think many would grant me a job offer with open arms?”
Harry hadn’t thought about that. “Not everyone’s as prejudiced as you might think,” he told the Slytherin. “Plenty of people won’t give two shits about what happened before; they’re all too happy that it’s all over. Anyway, you were acquitted of everything, weren’t you? That’ll really help.” He thought he was saying the right thing.
“Don’t be stupid, Potter.” Apparently not. “Do you really think people listen to what the Ministry says anymore? Particularly when it comes to people like me. No-one will offer me a job, regardless of what any court hearing had to say about me.” Malfoy’s voice was bitter once again.
Harry could tell that the Slytherin was not changing his mind any time soon. “Well you’ll be in for a shock when you leave here then. People have changed, Malfoy. It’s a different world out there now.” He said no more on the subject, but the lack of response gave an indication that Malfoy was at least mulling his words over.
Harry decided that the silence had stretched on long enough and continued with the game they had been playing. “Erm, who was your first kiss?”
“Excuse me?” Malfoy sounded affronted. “I didn’t realise these questions were going to become so personal!”
“I couldn’t think of much else,” Harry shrugged. “But, y’know, if you don’t wanna answer it it’s fine...” he trailed off. An unspoken challenge. He could almost hear Malfoy gritting his teeth.
“I have never kissed anyone, Potter, so I cannot answer the question.” The Slytherin almost sounded embarrassed.
“Really?!” Harry blurted out unthinkingly.
“Yes, really, Potter. Please refrain from laughing about it while I am still near. What about you?” he said before Harry could say anything else on the subject.
“Cho Chang in my fourth year. It was awful.”
“Why?” Came the curious request.
“It was wet.”
A pause.
“Because she was crying.” Harry’s face burned slightly, wondering what Malfoy had made of his initial statement.
“Dare I ask why she was so distressed?” Malfoy asked.
“It’s kinda complicated. What about you and Parkinson?” It had always been assumed that they were some sort of couple.
“There is nothing to say. We are merely good friends. It was others who interpreted it wrongly.” Malfoy sounded faintly disgusted and Harry held back a snigger. “What about you and Weasel’s sister? I was under the impression that you two were love’s young dream.”
“It’s complicated.”
“You have already attempted to brush me off with that one before, Potter. Not this time. Explain.” Malfoy’s smarmy voice cut through the darkness.
“I just didn’t feel that way anymore. I dunno, I can’t explain it really. I can only think of her as a sister, no matter how hard I try.” Harry reluctantly replied. This game was fast turning very personal.
“Hmn.” Was the only reply gleaned from Malfoy. Harry decided to continue regardless.
“Have you ever fancied anyone at school?” he asked, running out of possible questions already and Malfoy was just copying his and neglecting to give him any ideas. Harry stretched his legs out until they hit the door next to Malfoy as he waited for a reply.
“Yes.” Harry waited for Malfoy to elaborate, but he never did, to Harry’s disappointment.
“Your turn.”
“Have you ever had sex?” The Slytherin’s voice suddenly sounded rather small and apprehensive.
Harry paused for a moment. “No.” He said slowly, wondering why Malfoy asked him that question. “Do you have a secret that no-one else knows?” he had no idea what was coming out of his mouth anymore. He inwardly cursed his brain for asking such stupid questions.
“Yes,” Malfoy replied. Harry began to open his mouth to tell the blond that it was his turn to ask a question when that delicate voice spoke again. “I’m gay.”
Silence. Harry sat in shock, his poor, sleep deprived brain struggling to compute with what had just happened. He had to be dreaming. There was no way that Malfoy would every tell Harry anything like that, was there? He didn’t have a chance to recover before the blond began to panic.
“Oh God what have I done? Why did I tell you? You’re going to go and tell everyone and they’ll all laugh at me and my parents will no doubt hear and they will disown me and I will have no-one at all and oh my god why did I do that oh god-“ The relentless stream of panicked natter was stopped as Harry moved forward and gently put his finger over Malfoy lips, stopping him from speaking.
This close, there was enough light to vaguely see the Slytherin’s face, and Harry took in the blond hair in disarray, the slightly open mouth and the large grey eyes, glistening wetly.
“Shh, don’t worry, Malfoy, I won’t tell anyone. There’s no need to panic.” Harry tried to sooth the slighter boy. It seemed to have worked as his rapid breathing began to calm down. Then he spoke again, but this time with a slightly more collected tone.
“Can I ask one more question?” Those grey eyes blinked up at him. Harry nodded, confused. “Can we call each other by our first names now?” More confused than ever, Harry nodded again, trying to figure out what the blond was trying to do when his hand was knocked away and a pair of warm, soft lips were covering his own.
Harry tried to jerk away but there was suddenly a pale, slender hand gripping tightly onto the front of his ratty sleeping shirt, preventing him from moving. A soft voice mumbled “Harry,” against his lips as the Slytherin tilted his head slightly to press in closer to the Gryffindor.
All of a sudden, it seemed to hit Harry that he was kissing Draco Malfoy and he ripped the hand away from his shirt and scrambled back as far as he could in the small space. Unfortunately, however, it seemed his eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could still see Malfoy – Draco? –s face and the way that bottom lip trembled ever so slightly and those grey eyes filled with shiny, glistening tears.
Oh god please don’t let him cry. Merlin, please don’t cry!
Harry suddenly thought back onto the conversation and the Slytherin’s blunt response to the fancying question. The realisation hit him like the Hogwarts Express. Malfoy fancied him. Not quite sure how to handle this new information Harry’s brain quickly flipped back to the kiss he had just participated in – Draco’s first kiss – and hey when did he start thinking of him as Draco? And then Harry realised that he hadn’t exactly not enjoyed it and that paired with the feeling when he found out Draco had no shirt on and not being able to feel for Ginny and this newfound knowledge hit him like about eight Hogwarts Expresses all at once.
He looked up at the distraught boy in front of him. “Oh my god.” He whispered softly. Draco, obviously thinking it was disgust or something equivalent shrunk backwards away from Harry. “No. No don’t worry, I’m sorry, I was just shocked.” Harry spoke softly as he made his way back towards the Slytherin. His eyes wandered all over his face before finally settling on his lips. “I think- I think I’ve just realised a lot of things.” A pause. A blink. “Draco.” Harry leaned in and joined his lips to Draco’s once more.
The blond suddenly threw his arms around Harry’s neck and poured all his enthusiasm into the kiss. Harry reciprocated in turn, internally thinking that this was what he had been missing his whole life. So many things made sense now, including all the unbridled tension between him and Draco for their school lives.
“Felt this way,” a breathless mumble against the Gryffindor’s lips. “For so long now...” A delicate tongue touching Harry’s lips tentatively, as if wary of the response it might incur. Harry felt his eyes roll up in his head slightly as he opened his mouth to allow the Slytherin’s tongue to gain access. Harry swung his leg over Draco’s until he was straddling the slimmer boy and moved his own hands up to thread fingers through the silky blond locks. Draco let out a squeak of surprise and suddenly poured more enthusiasm into the kiss that before. Harry smirked internally.
Draco suddenly pulled his mouth away to gasp for breath and Harry made his way down the blond’s pale, slender throat, peppering it with butterfly kisses until he reached the pulse point. He latched his mouth onto it and sucked, thinking only of the dark bruise that would mar the ivory skin later, marking Draco as his. The blond thoroughly agreed with this, if the high pitched whine he let out was any indication.
It was this noise that began the thundering of blood towards Harry’s groin, and he suddenly knew that this was going to go somewhere new very quickly, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop it. He pulled away.
“Draco,” he started, looking at the Slytherin’s rapidly fading smile. “This is going really fast and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop if we carry on any longer.” He told the blond seriously. The smile returned.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” Harry’s mouth suddenly lost all of its moisture. Draco smirked evilly, reaching out a hand to pull the younger back to him.
Their lips collided in an explosion of passion as they moved against each other. The lust coursing through Harry’s body urged him to touch as much of the Slytherin as possible, and so he kept half of his mind on the mouth connected to his and the other half on mapping out the expanse of Draco’s exposed chest. Fingertips trailed lightly over smooth skin covering lean muscle. Palms skinned soft sides and rubbed over pebbles nipples as the blond sighed and moaned lightly into the furious kiss. The hands that had previously been entangled in Harry’s hair moved down to reciprocate in kind, creeping under the ratty bedshirt to caress the scarred skin that lay over sinewy muscles.
The shirt was suddenly far too in the way. Pulling away from the panting Slytherin beneath him Harry reached down to pull his t-shirt up and over his head before throwing it somewhere behind him. He ignored the crash that followed it.
Grinning, he reached down to kiss Draco again, returning to his former position of straddling him as his hands continued to ravish the pale chest. The blonde’s hands did the same, except venturing round to the exposed back, stroking up and down with soft fingertips, every now and then digging in rounded nails that made Harry’s knees go weak for a moment.
“Never...” Harry whispered against Draco’s lips, eyes closed in bliss. “Never thought of it like this. But it feels right. So right...” His murmurs trailed off into nothing as he felt a small smile against his own mouth, and slender hands moved around to the front of his body to pinch at hard nipples, erect from a combination of the chilly night air and the arousal pounding through his bloodstream.
Harry had never been particularly into self-exploration, and so had never paid his nipples too much attention as he had been more concerned with the impending worry of Voldemort murdering most of the world’s population. He now sorely regretted that decision, as it emerged that the nerves in these small numbs were apparently connected directly to his now fully-erect cock, sending a jolt of pleasure through him and causing him to lose his balance and fall into the lap beneath him with a moan.
The answering hardness he felt beneath him certainly did nothing to abate the inferno currently roaring through him. Draco gave a groan as Harry shifted around slightly, grinning at the response he received.
“Stop teasing me, Potter!” Draco hissed, smirking as he used Harry’s surname. The Gryffindor gave a sarcastic salute before shifting backwards and shoving his hand straight down the front of the Slytherin’s silk (Harry repressed a snort) pyjama bottoms to curl around a hard, hot length, his mouth curving up into a victorious grin as Draco gasped and threw his head back into the door, hands coming up to grasp onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry kept his eyes on the smooth, pale column of neck as he tentatively began to move his hand along Draco’s hardness, feeling the veins on the underside and the silky-smooth skin that covered it entirely. Though he couldn’t see it, Harry guessed that it was around the same length as his own, but slightly slimmer. Not that it mattered, he thought, as he watched those grey eyes roll upwards when a thumb flicked over the tip.
Harry moved his hand downwards once more until he felt the brush of wiry curls against his palm. His grip tightened before he moved his hand upwards again, twisting his wrist as he reached the end in a clever and extremely satisfying movement he discovered in his fourth year. Draco let out a strangled yell.
“Stop- stop! I’m – I’m –“ He stuttered, eyes widening, unable to finished before a sticky wetness exploded over Harry’s fingers and the inside of the no-doubt expensive pyjama bottoms. A deep groan accompanied the action as smooth nails dug deeply into Harry’s tanned shoulders, possible drawing blood.
But Harry didn’t notice as he struggled to comprehend the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. There was a moments silence before the melodramatic Slytherin began to freak out.
“Merlin’s pants oh my god I can’t believe that just happened can I get out of here I need to-“ he cut off and struggled to stand up, extracting Harry’s hand from his pants and reaching for the doorknob, seemingly forgetting that it would do him no good. Harry rolled his eyes and reached up to grab the silly Slytherins hands and pull him back down, and the blond fell to the floor with a hmphf and looked as Harry sullenly through mussed up strands of hair, a blush staining his white cheeks pink.
“Don’t worry about it.” Harry implored, looking into the stormy grey eyes, using all of his willpower not to chuckle as the sight before him. “It happens to everyone.” he assured.
“I don’t see it happening to you.” The blond stated grumpily, bringing his knees up to his chest between the hands that Harry was still holding.
“If it wasn’t for me hardly being able to finish a wank due to one interruption or other, I’d probably have already come just from watching you.” Harry stated honestly, sending out a silent apology to those he had spent many a time cursing at mentally for their impeccable bad timing.
Draco looked up at him with an unsure expression, embarrassment fading from his features. “Really?” he questioned.
“Totally,” Harry assured, nodding for extra effect. “It was the hottest think I’ve ever seen.”
Draco put his knees down again, tilting his head slightly with a small smirk, all embarrassment apparently gone. “Well, I am pretty fucking sexy.” He agreed.
“Yes you are.” Harry smirked.
A pause.
“Fuck me.”
Another pause.
“What?!” Harry exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden statement. Draco rolled his eyes.
“I thought it was quite simple, Harry, I said that I want you to f-.” Harry placed his hand over the Slytherin’s mouth before he could continue.
“Yes, I am well aware of what you said, Draco,” the Gryffindor said. “I’m just- It’s all a bit sudden, don’tcha think?”
Draco cocked his head again, looking into Harry’s eyes. “Might as well, mighten we? As good a time as any. Anyway,” he tore one of his hands from Harry’s and placed in on the obvious tent in his cotton trousers. “I think that you’re more that up for it.” He winked. Devilish bastard. Thinking he’d won, Draco leaned forwards to claim the Gryffindor’s lips in another searing kiss when he found a tanned, calloused hand stopping him from moving and further. The smile slipped slightly.
“It’s just-“ Harry didn’t quite know how to put this. “Is this really how we want our first time to be? Locked in a broom cupboard?”
“Harry. It’s me and you, it’s never going to be conventional and romantic.” Draco said, one eyebrow raised. Harry acknowledges this with a tip of his head and the mumbled something incoherent, a slight blush staining his face.
“What was that?” Draco questioned, leaning forwards slightly. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Harry looked away, embarrassed. Draco gave a short laugh, obviously having no qualms about laughing in the face of the others embarrassment. Figures, Harry thought.
“Don’t you worry about that,” The blond assured. “I know plenty.” Harry shivered in excitement. “Now, is there anything here that I can use...” Draco muttered, standing up and perusing the ramshackle shelves behind them. Harry leaned back on his hands, staring up at his former rival with a mixture of excitement, nervousness and awe.
“Ah-ha! This will do...” Draco kneeled down again, a small bottle clenched in his hand. Harry gave a questioning look. “Wand polishing oil. It’ll do as good as anything else, I suppose.” That cocky smirk was back again, but it now held an entirely different meaning. Harry felt his cock twitch in anticipation.
Moving the bottle to clench it between his teeth, Draco shucked his silk bottoms and threw them behind him; they caught on one of the shelves. Harry then found himself face to face with a very naked Draco Malfoy.
Swallowing his excitement, Harry spoke. “I see you perked up quickly.” He nodded towards Draco’s hard-again dick.
“I’m gifted.” Draco muttered with a grin, moving forwards to push Harry backwards gently until he was lying on the ground, hands behind his head and he looked up at the blond astride him. “No need to worry, Mr. Potter, I have everything under control.” the Slytherin said affirmatively, looking down in delight when Harry hips bucked slightly against his will.
Draco unscrewed the bottle cap and poured a generous amount into his palm, rubbing it around both hands and putting the bottle on the floor next to him. Grinning down at the Gryffindor below him, the Slytherin slowly began to trail his hands down his stomach, heading towards the all important goal. Harry started at the glistening trails left behind, just visible in the sparse light. Draco threw his head back as those hands reached his groin; one wrapping around his throbbing erection and the other reaching down to cup the balls that hung beneath them, a breathy moan escaping him.
Harry counted back from ten to stop himself from coming from this sight alone.
A few tugs on his cock seemed to suffice as Draco spread his legs wider and reached back to the cleft of his arse, rubbing his fingers sensually but ensuring that Harry couldn’t see exactly what was happening. The blond bit his lip and looked down as he did so and Harry had to physically grab his dick to stop it from exploding. He didn’t miss the victorious smirk the Slytherin threw down at him.
“Hurry the fuck up Draco or this show’ll be over before we know it.” Harry hissed through clenched teeth. The blond just smiled, moving his legs further apart and lowering himself closer to Harry’s tented lap. This also gave Harry the perfect view of what lay waiting for him.
Draco must have deemed the rubbing to be enough as he slipped one slick finger past the ring of furled skin that Harry could see, the digit disappearing almost entirely as the blond gasped loudly into the darkness. He moved it in and out a few times before adding another, and another, and Harry was watching, mesmerised and drooling, as the slender Slytherin finger fucked himself above the Gryffindor. He could see that Draco was getting close; his panting was getting faster and louder and a string of pearly pre-cum was connecting his dick to Harry’s pyjama bottoms. The brunet reached up to grab a pale arm, bringing the blonde’s attention back to the boy below him.
“Don’t forget me!” Harry stated, a cheeky grin working its way onto his face. The blond shook his head for a moment.
“Sorry,” he said, looking entirely unapologetic. “I just get carried away sometimes.” He grinned, moving backwards and bringing the cotton trousers Harry had been wearing with him, before throwing them to join his own. He crawled forwards again and Harry felt his mouth go dry at the sexy Slytherin making his way towards him. A short, passionate kiss was exchanged before Harry watched Draco move back and grasp the Gryffindor’s aching cock. He’d managed to compose himself and so, thankfully, didn’t come immediately at the contact, but he still had to think of Umbridge bellydancing in a mankini to stave off his impending orgasm. He closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself, and when he opened them again Draco had positioned himself over Harry’s cock and was slowly lowering down on it.
The heat was incredible. Harry had never felt anything like it and threw his head back as much as he was able, eyes rolling back. His head snapped back however when he felt Draco sitting fully on his lap and heard a small noise of discomfort. Looking up at the blonde’s face, Harry saw the pain etched into the features. He reached up one hand to stroke a cheek softly.
“Take it at your own pace. Don’t hurt yourself to please me.” He said softly, moving his hand back to behind his head as visions of Umbridge flickered through his mind again. Draco gave a small smile and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before they snapped open and he moved on his knees, hands on Harry’s chest as the blond lifted himself up.
Trying to breathe through the scent of sex and the swirling thoughts of Draco fucking Malfoy is riding me oh my god was becoming increasingly difficult, Harry found. He concentrated on breathing deeply to stave off his looming orgasm as he moved his hands to rest them on Draco’s hips, guiding him as he rode the Gryffindor below him.
“Ugh,” the Slytherin groaned, slamming back down onto Harry with a new force. “So good. Wanted this for so long. Harry.” He ground out in a pleasure filled whisper, grey eyes looking into green.
“You’re so good Draco. So sexy. Tight.” Harry had no control over what he was saying now, and anything in his mind came pouring out of his mouth. “So hot and beautiful- ugh – amazing,” he groaned, moving one of his hands forward to grasp the blonde’s bouncing cock, gripping it tightly as the Slytherin squealed in pleasure. “Ngh- gonna- I’m gonna cum, Draco-“ Harry had barely finished his sentence before his orgasm burst through him; his back arches and his released poured out of him and into Draco, coating his insides with a whitewash of fluid before he collapsed back to the floor, pasting heavily.
Not to be forgotten, Draco whined and Harry moved his hand once more, twisting his wrist and flicking his thumb over the swollen head of Draco’s prick until the blond let out a cry and warm liquid sprayed over Harry’s fingers and chest, followed by a bedraggled looking blond who snuck his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, the Gryffindor still inside him. There was silence but for the panting breaths of the new lovers.
“Draco Malfoy, the snuggling type?” Harry said, “I never would have guessed.” He wrapped his arms around the slender of the two regardless.
“Fuck off, Potter.” Harry could feel the smirk pressed against his neck and gripped the blond tighter, shifting slightly so that he slipped out of the placid Slytherin. They both gasped quietly at the sensation.
Feeling sticky, Harry made to move to find a rag of some sort in the cupboard to wipe himself off when he found his path blocked by a shiny, sticky blond. “No. Sleep.” Harry didn’t dare argue. He lay his head back against the cold stone floor and pulled Draco to him once more, as they each fell asleep listening to the other’s breathing.
...

“Is this where you locked them up, Peeves? A yes or no will suffice.” A calm, clear voice broke through Harry’s slumber. He stirred slightly against the warm body entangled with his, smiling slightly at memories of the previous night.
“Yes, Headmistress.” Came another voice, this one higher and mischievous.
“You may leave now.” The first voice spoke again. Harry suddenly became fully conscious and his eyes snapped open at the realisation that Professor McGonagall was about to walk in on him and Draco sleeping together- naked! He started shaking the blond beside him awake and sat up, looking around for his pyjama bottoms. He saw they hanging off the top shelf with Draco’s and was about to stand up to get them when said Slytherin sat up and looked at Harry with sleep confused eyes.
At the same time, Harry heard a powerful voice chanting ‘Alohamora!’ through the wood of the door and his eyes widened, as his Draco’s.
The door opened.
McGonagall hit the floor with a thud.
“How many detentions do you think we’ll get?”
“Hundreds.”
- 1
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