Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

19 Years and 5 Minutes Later	By : TheMightyFlynn Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58416 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters related to that series; they are JK Rowling's. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-19 Years and 5 Minutes Later
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-Ch. 36
- 37-Ch. 37
- 38-Ch. 38
- 39-Ch. 39
- 40-Ch. 40
- 41-Ch. 41
- 42-Ch. 42
- 43-Ch. 43
- 44-Ch. 44
- 45-Ch. 45
- 46-Ch. 46
- 47-Ch. 47
- 48-Ch. 48
- 49-Ch. 49
- 50-Ch. 50
- 51-Epilogue
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: Sorry this was late! Draco was giving me atttude :)
HopingForKarma: Thanks! An appropriate comment for your username. :) That's not where I see the story going, because it annoys me too.
As always, guys, if you want a question answered straight away, feel free to track me downon DA, LJ or Ao3. Same username as on here :)
Everything ached. From the tips of Harry’s hair right down to the soles of his feet; everything ached. Holding as still as he possibly could, he lamented the fact that he had to breathe to stay alive, as even the movement of his chest was a burden right at that moment. Running his tongue along the roof of his mouth proved to be a bad idea, as it only emphasised the fact that he had had way too much to drink the night before: fuzzy, foul-tasting and gross, it was almost enough to force him out of the soft bed so he could spend an hour or so brushing his teeth. Judging solely from the softness of the bed he was lying on, he assumed that he had somehow made it to one of the bedrooms in Grimmauld the night before; although how, he had no idea. The last thing he remembered clearly was deciding that the bottles of Ogden’s looked quite good and he desperately hoped that he hadn’t managed to consume all three. It had been many years since he had indulged himself in this idiotic way and he was in the process of silently declaring that he never would again when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He knew that there had been no one in the house the night before when he had arrived and the only person he could think of who could possibly be after him that morning was Ginny. Cringing a little as the door opened quietly, he held his breath, hoping whoever it was would just leave him to his fate.
“Aren’t you awake yet?”
The force of will it took to prevent himself from frowning at what sounded like Draco’s voice was surprising to Harry, but he managed it, as he knew it would just hurt more. What the hell Draco was doing in Grimmauld Place the morning after Harry’s worst ever bender was a complete mystery to him, especially considering the Fidelius charm that was still hiding the place. The footsteps moved towards him and something hard was placed down on what Harry assumed was a bedside table.
“You aren’t even going to respond to me this morning?”
Harry did frown this time and immediately regretted it as his head throbbed in time to his pulse. Letting out a soft moan, he buried his head in under the pillow. Yes, his body ached, but not in that way, so he knew that whatever Draco was doing there, it had not involved sex. His body thrummed at the idea of sex – or maybe it was just the idea of sex with Draco – telling him that no matter how shit he felt, an orgasm was still an orgasm. The knowledge that activating the pleasure centres of the brain could help with pain management flittered uselessly through his mind and he silently cursed his Auror mentor for informing him of that little titbit. He was not begging for sex to relieve a bit of his hangover, no matter how appealing the idea was to his mushy-feeling mind. The fact that he always experienced a bit of vertigo when hung-over didn’t even have time to factor into his thought process, because he had dismissed the idea before it could take hold. He groaned again, more in objection to his body’s poor timing than anything else and moved the pillow a little so his voice wasn’t muffled.
“If you want sex–” he paused, his eyes watering behind his closed lids. Sweet Merlin, his breath was rancid! “You’ll have to do all the work. I’m not moving.”
The quiet laugh he received in response sent a shiver of pleasure up Harry’s spine. It was surprisingly deep and melodious and he could just imagine how it would light up Draco’s face in the same way his smile did; softening his pointed features. It was very tempting to open his eyes and see if he was right, but he repressed the urge. There was no way he was going to give away the fact that he had been wondering if it was possible for the two of them to have something more than what they currently did and he knew that he had the tendency to be a lot more honest than he really should when hung-over. It was one of the things about him that the rest of the Auror locker room had found incredibly useful over the years: if something big was coming up, they always tried to get him a bit sloshed the night before.
The fact that it had been less than a month since the first time he had been with Draco had been playing on Harry’s mind every time these thoughts crossed his mind and it gave him pause each time. Since it had only been three weeks, he had to wonder if what he was feeling towards Draco was simply relief over finally discovering his true sexuality. Then again, he reconsidered – as he always did when he was having this debate with himself – he had done more with Draco in less than a month than he had with anyone else before. He had been more open, more honest, more... everything with Draco than he had been with anyone, including the woman he had thought himself in love with for 19 years. He frowned again and focussed all his energy on listening to whatever it was Draco was doing in the room when he realised that he was about to start a cycle of questions he couldn’t answer yet again. The footsteps moved across the room and Harry’s frown deepened, despite the throbbing in his head.
“Stay under the pillow; this might hurt.” The words were followed swiftly by the sound of the curtains being thrown open and the window sliding up. Harry snuggled further down beneath both the pillow and covers, receiving an amused sound in response. “The others thought you may have expired in here, all by yourself. It would be a bit of a disappointment for the rest of the world, you know. For you to survive everything you’ve survived only to be brought down by the discovery of your sexuality and the fact that your wife is apparently a bitch. I could have told you that back in school, by the way. Neither of the others was game enough to risk coming in and waking you, so they sent me. Not that I’d ever tell either Granger or Astoria that they lacked the backbone to do anything... You are never to repeat that, by the way.”
Hermione? And was that nerves Harry could hear beneath the obviously feigned disinterest in Draco’s voice? This was at least close to the longest string of words he thought he had ever heard Draco utter at one time since the trials; it was almost only one breath. Years spent listening to the different cadences of various people’s voices had rendered Harry a fairly accurate judge of the tone of someone’s voice, even if he couldn’t read people’s faces as well as he should be able to after nearly 20 years of Auror work. He didn’t think he had heard this level of nerves from Draco since the trials, but he couldn’t seem to work out why he was so nervous. Biting back a sigh as he realised that it was time to come out from under the pillow, he took a deep breath and slowly slid out from his warm cocoon. A quick twitch of his hand in the direction of the bed curtains closed the ones behind him so he could see without his eyes watering in pain.
“Draco?” He blinked, trying to bring him into focus in the still too-bright light and without his glasses.
“Take the hangover potion; we’ve been waiting for you.”
Yes, Harry decided, it was definitely nerves he was hearing. “Wait,” he paused again, surprised at how gruff his voice sounded. “What’s going on?”
Harry blinked rapidly again as the black-and-white-clad, vaguely Draco-shaped blob sighed and moved back towards the bed. The blob leant over towards the bedside table and Harry found his glasses being waved before his nose, followed swiftly by the hangover potion. Draco stayed standing near the bedside table, his left hand twitching by his side as he stared down at Harry. Taking stock as he sat up properly, Harry blinked rapidly again as he felt the potion taking an almost immediate effect, not only clearing his headache, but also flooding his mouth with peppermint. A small noise from Draco had Harry glancing up to see that he was now watching him with his arms crossed across his chest, a slightly impatient look on his face. Harry took a few seconds to mourn the loss of the apparent good humour that Draco had had a few minutes ago before sighing in satisfaction.
“Thank you.” When the only response he received was the arch of an incredibly pale eyebrow, he smiled a little. “I assume you brewed that?”
Draco merely stood almost-glaring at him for a nearly a full minute, according to the clock that was slowly ticking on the bedside table. Looking at him, Harry realised that he had lost none of the ability to annoy him with that look of smug superiority that he seemed to have perfected over the years. His grey eyes had turned stormy in the tiny amount of time between him entering the room and Harry sitting up, which Harry considered a real loss, especially considering what they had probably looked like before he lost the tone of amusement. He had absolutely no idea why Draco’s eyes seemed to fascinate him so much, but he was still slightly too dizzy to want to work it out just yet. The silence was beginning to make Harry uncomfortable and fidgety, but the second he made the decision to move and just ignore Draco, he spoke.
“What do you remember about last night?”
The harsh tone of voice had Harry wishing nearly immediately for the silence to return. He had a brief moment of panic that he had done something incredibly embarrassing, but if he had, then why would Draco have stuck around? Clamping down on the sudden urge to lash out at him in irritation, Harry scanned his memory for anything past the Ogden’s bottles, but had to admit that there was simply nothing there.
“I remember arriving at Grimmauld, but that’s it, really. I don’t remember anything beyond that. Why?”
“Nothing? You don’t remember sending me a note at 10pm, demanding my presence here?”
Harry could feel his eyes widening. Maybe this was why Draco was so pissy this morning? But then, if he was angry about Harry sending him a note asking him to come to Grimmauld, why had he been in such a good mood earlier? Why had that good mood changed the second Harry had sat up? And why was Hermione apparently here?
“What am I missing? What have I done?”
“Done?” It sounded very much like Draco was scoffing at him, but Harry had no idea why. Nerves fluttered through his stomach as Draco stepped closer, his eyes flashing. “Why me Potter?”
Completely stumped as to why the conversation – if that was what you could call this – had gone in this direction, all Harry could do was frown in confusion. “What?”
“You hate me; you always have. Why would that change in the matter of three weeks? It can’t be because of the sex; you can do that without any kind of feelings, or with someone you hate. Why would you change your mind about me when you have clearly felt nothing but contempt for me practically your entire life?”
Draco stopped at the side of the bed, his hands now by his sides, clenching sporadically. Staring up into Draco’s face, Harry knew that anyone who came across him at that moment could have read that expression: fear, bordering on terror. Draco was scared, although of what, Harry couldn’t tell. Did he want to know how Harry had fantasised about him in school? Did he want Harry to lie and say that it was a recent thing? Had he not been listening when Harry had told him how much he wanted him before? Since he had absolutely nothing to go off, Harry decided to stick with the absolute truth, as it had always been the best option for him so far.
“I want you.”
“No, no, no!” The vulnerability that now entered Draco’s eyes was almost heartbreaking for Harry, as he was so used to seeing him so self-assured. Realisation dawned in the back of Harry’s mind just before Draco continued. “Wanting sex is completely different to wanting the person you’re having sex with. I need to know, before we go any further with this, that this isn’t just about the sex for you. Because...”
The words trailed off as Draco spun around to face the door. Harry’s fingers twitched with the need to touch him, but he resisted, knowing that if he did, he would probably find himself jinxed. He knew he was seeing the proof that this was more to Draco than simple sex; more than revenge. Draco obviously had some kind of feelings for him, or else he wouldn’t have been reacting like this.
“There are only two types of completely honest people in this world, Potter: the very young and the very drunk. Someone as drunk as you were last night doesn’t lie. You should have contacted either Granger or Weasley last night; they are the logical ones for you to want to speak to after what happened. Not only did you get in touch with me instead of either of them, but you also kept confirming that...” He trailed off again, his hands clenched by his sides and his entire body so tense Harry could see him trembling.
“Draco,” Harry began in a tone that he hoped was soothing, as he really didn’t like the idea of having to dodge spells being shot at him in his current condition.
“No,” Draco spun around again, allowing Harry to see the spots of colour on his cheeks as he glared at him. “Look, for the past thirteen years, my only concern has been keeping Astoria and Scorpius safe. I haven’t allowed myself to form an emotional attachment to any man in that time, because of the risk that they would run to the press with tales that they had ‘scored the head of the Malfoy fortune.’ Each and every one of them has been planned and researched down to the finest point. Then you came along and fucked everything up! It wasn’t supposed to happen with you; not in that bathroom, not ever. You were a risk I couldn’t take. I need to know what this is to you because...” He threw his hands in the air, a hopeless look on his face. “I’m in. As fucking stupid as the idea is – because I know exactly what’s coming over the next few months – I want to see this through.”
Watching as Draco stared at him, Harry had to wonder if this was actually real. Maybe he was dreaming, because it seemed that Draco Malfoy was... What? Asking him out? No, this was more than a date. Declaring his intentions? As pretentious as it sounded, that phrase seemed to fit with what Draco was proposing; a formal arrangement that would see the two of them in something that very much resembled a relationship. Or perhaps something a little more, like a real relationship. Harry smiled, the idea sending a warm feeling through his stomach.
“If you choose to mock me right now, Potter, I swear –”
“No, no mocking,” Harry was quick to respond, raising his hands in a placating gesture as he slid out of the bed. “But there are things you have to take into consideration when it comes to me. I can’t avoid publicity or the press and neither can anyone attached to me. Because of that, my kids have to come first. I put their safety before Ginny’s and I will put them before yours as well. Lily’s only ten years old and still at home, so she’ll cop the brunt of what’s about to come until the boys come home for Christmas. In some respects, it’ll be even worse for you if this gets out–”
“‘Gets out’? Already ashamed are you?”
Anger welled in Harry’s chest at the ridiculous assumption Draco had apparently just jumped to. Clenching his hands by his sides, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly before meeting the bloody idiot’s eyes. That proved to be a mistake as Draco was sneering at him and appeared to be about to leave, causing the burning anger to rise in Harry’s chest again.
“For fuck’s sake, Malfoy, how fucking dense are you? You already know how much I want you – how much I want this – so I can’t see why you’d be pissed off at me right now.” Harry closed the distance between them in a few – still slightly unstable – steps and stood nose-to-nose with Draco, whose eyes flashed with something unidentifiable as Harry continued to let his frustration loose. “I have never felt like this for anyone before. Is that what you want to hear? Yes, you will come second to my kids, but that’s it! I’ll probably wind up third or even fourth on your priority list after your son, your wife and then your fucking money! You are the biggest, most arrogant arse I have ever met! Astoria really does have my sympathy for having to put up with you for the past–”
His words were cut off again, but this time it was because Draco had grasped hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him into a harsh kiss. Harry tried to pull back, but Draco’s arms wound around his waist, pulling him closer as he shoved his tongue into Harry’s mouth. He knew he could easily overpower Draco – skinny runt that he was – but really, wasn’t this what he had been craving? Draco willingly coming to him, willingly discussing what he felt? Well, he reconsidered, Draco snarking at him, then being yelled at, at least. The kiss was broken the second Harry began to relax.
“I just thought I’d shut you up before you said something we’d both regret.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have regretted it, believe me.”
“Now, now, Potter, there’s no need for such dramatics. Shower and get changed – there are fresh clothes on the bedside – then come downstairs. We’ve been waiting hours for you to wake up; don’t make us wait any longer, please.”
With a quick squeeze of Harry’s arse, Draco turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Harry staring open-mouthed after him. What the fuck was that? Had he just been played? Was that declaration all Draco had wanted out of him? Why did his life have to be so bloody confusing? Shaking his head, he turned and made his way slowly into the en suite, his thoughts more confused now than they had been in quite a while.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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19 Years and 5 Minutes Later