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Harry Potter and the Prince of Ice	By : Neverwood Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6228 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Anal, Angst, Fingering, H/C, HJ, M/M, Oral, Rim, Solo, Spank. I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. I do not recieve money for this in any way. For entertainment purposes only.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Author's Note: Hello, my lovelies. As a form of apology for changing my update schedule for the worse, I am posting yet another new chapter this week. I will not be posting two chapters every two weeks, unless I have a surplus of written material, which doesn't happen often. I was simply lucky enough to have a surge of creativity and drive.
Censored version on Fanfiction. Uncensored version on Adult fanfiction.
All disclaimers for previous chapters apply.
Now, I specifically recommended reading this Author's Note because I have a small anouncement. For those who don't know, Fanfiction chapters have to be changed/updated every ninety days or else they expire. I'm not sure what happens when they expire, but I would like to prevent that from happening. So, very soon I will be updating all of my previous chapters. I WILL NOT change the overall story or any plot points. I am simply going in and fixing mistakes or inconsistencies (removing the bit where I said Pansy would never be friends with Harry, for instance). If you would please point out any mistakes you believe I have made, that would be absolutely appreciated. I cannot promise to take all advice given to me, but I will give it all my utmost attention and any critiques will get the respect they deserve.

Chapter Ten: Happy Anniversary

Things had settled down at Grimmauld Place, though very few would say that there was nothing special. After all, who wouldn't be surprised to see the Prince of Slytherin and the Savior laughing over a spot of tea, or trading friendly insults during a shared meal? But for Harry and Draco, this was their version of a normal life. It lasted for six days this time before another incident sent them spiraling again.

Harry woke up eagerly. Today was a special day, although he wasn't sure how special Draco would think it would be. Still, Harry felt the need to celebrate. He checked his watch, six am. He briefly debated whether or not to try to go back to sleep, but quickly decided against it when he felt excitement thrumming through his veins. Instead, he acted with his typical impulsivity and recklessness and charged, pajamas and all, into Draco's bedroom.

Draco was, as per usual, fast asleep. Until Harry leaped onto his bed and began jumping on it like a madman. Draco awoke rather quickly, and Harry fell off the bed as he was hit with a Stunning jinx. Harry groaned, and suddenly saw a very surprised, concerned, and sleepy Draco's head appear over the edge.

“Harry?” Draco said, voice still heavy with sleep. “Are you okay?”

Draco got out of bed and helped Harry up. Harry dusted himself off, a little less enthusiastic but still excited.

“I'm fine, I've had much worse. Though I won't wake you up that way again.” Harry grinned. “Happy anniversary!”

Draco gave him that look he hated, the one where it was clear Draco was unsure of Harry's sanity. “Harry, we don't have an anniversary. How hard did you hit your head?”

Harry laughed, dodging Draco as he tried to check Harry's head for wounds. “No, silly git. You've been here for a month.”

Draco gave a rueful smile. “Ah, yes. So I have. And this is cause for celebration?”

Harry crossed his arms. A sign of deliberate stubbornness, Draco had learned. “Yes.”

Draco smiled. “Well, then. What shall we do today?”

He had to stop himself from laughing as Harry looked suddenly lost. “Um...well, I thought it would be harder to convince you to celebrate. I was rather focused on that part.”

Draco tsked. “Seeing only the battle, not the victory. How typical. Let's see...how does a Gryffindor-Slytherin truce party sound?”

Harry's brow furrowed. “A Gryffindor...”

“...Slytherin truce party. If our last few interactions are to be believed, my friends and yours are ready to bury the hatchet. Might as well make it official.”

Harry broke out into a wide, bright smile before catching Draco up in a hug, again acting solely on impulse. “That's a wonderful idea, Draco.” He suddenly pulled back and away, which Draco was opposed to but couldn't logically argue against. “I'll let Ron and Hermione know. And they'll bring Seamus and Dean, maybe George...”

Harry rattled on as he left the room, his mind already on the Floo calls he would make. If he'd looked back at Draco, he would've seen one of the softest smiles ever to grace the Slytherin's face.

…

The Boar's Feast was a suggestion made by Seamus. According to Harry, Seamus had had a short fling with the proprietor of the Three Broomsticks, and she had introduced him to it. Draco later learned from Pansy that Madame Rosmerta had been Seamus's one attempt at being straight while he and Dean had been 'separated', after one month of which he all but ran back into Dean's arms. The on-again, off-again couple were notorious for finding the best places, although Harry swore Draco was better at it when Draco had looked very bitter upon that revelation.

Which lead to Harry and Draco showing up a few minutes late, joining the crowd that had mostly already arrived at the large, open room reserved for them. It was clearly designed for parties, a large open space taking up half the room, the other half filled with dining tables and buffet tables laden with rich and aromatic food. Draco was reluctantly dragged away by Blaise and Gregory, and Harry drifted over to where Ron and Hermione were standing.

“Harry!” Hermione said, going to hug him as soon as she laid eyes on him. Harry smiled as a familiar feeling, much like that of coming home, came over him. He hugged her tight before releasing her.

“Hey, that's my girlfriend. You better watch it.” Ron said jokingly, lightly hitting Harry on the arm.

“I think she'd curse me if I tried.” Harry said easily. “And I'd hate to have you throwing up slugs again.”

Ron pinked a little at the reminder of his botched magic, but took the teasing easily. The three friends chatted and got caught up on anything they might have missed in their brief visits or letters. Too soon, the idle chitchat turned to a subject Harry had known to expect, but had been hoping to avoid.

“Well,” Hermione had said in response to Ron complaining of boredom, “we'll have schoolwork to distract us when we go back this year. Won't we, Harry?”

It was clear that the question was rhetorical, but Harry wasn't as certain. “If I go back, we'll most likely spend all our time studying. We were gone last year, after all.”

Hermione's face hardened. She wasn't backing down so easy. “McGonnogal has created a special one-time program for Eighth Years. It was designed for those who could not study as well as they should last year, due to the tensions of the war. I believe we fall into that category.”

“We do.” Harry said, tension making his neck stiffen. “Doesn't mean we have to be in the program, though.”

“All Eighth Years are automatically enrolled.”

“And if I don't want to be an Eighth Year?”

“Look who I found!”

Harry and Hermione paid Ron no attention, too busy glaring at each other. Ron tried again, clapping in between their faces to get their attention. Harry and Hermione drew back, startled. Ron quickly stepped in the small space between them.

“'Mione, there's some haggis over on that other table. Didn't you say you wanted me to try some?”

Harry watched Ron lead Hermione away, a little too happy to see his best friend being managed.

“The first time Weasley is ever happy to see me, and it's because you're fighting with Granger. Am I in an alternate universe?”

Harry felt a smile before he even consciously decided to wear one. He turned towards Malfoy, putting his back to Ron and Hermione, who was still in a snit. “Oh, yes. Could you not already tell?”

Whatever reply Draco was about to make was cut off as an already-inebriated Seamus forced drinks into their hands before continuing on his mission to get everyone drunk. Dean followed close behind with napkins and apologies, before he had to disappear into the crowd behind his boyfriend.

“Charming.” Draco said dryly as he patted his suit where Seamus had spilled the drink. He then lifted his cup towards Harry. “Shall we?”

Harry bit his lip, hesitating. “Should we?”

He could see in Draco's eyes the moment he understood what he was asking. Last time they had gotten drunk together, things had gotten...complicated. Harry knew his answer when a wicked gleam winked to life in Draco's eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

Harry spent a few minutes seriously considering the question. Did he trust Draco? Yes, they were friends now, but did he really trust him? Seeing the light slowly dim in Draco's eyes, Harry took a deep breath and drew on his tried-and-true bravery in the face of danger.

“Yes.” He admitted softly. “I trust you.”

Draco gave him a soft smile in reward before downing his drink in one go. Harry followed suit, not wanting to lag behind Draco in anything.

The last sober thought he had was, But danger never looked so good.

…

This seems oddly familiar, Harry thought sarcastically as he and Draco all but fell through the door. He snorted in laughter at the thought, the sound of which caused an eruption of drunken giggles in Draco. Harry smiled down at the figure still slightly bent over.

“Wanna try the stairs?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, almost falling over in the process. “Made it last time, didn't I?”

It took much longer than normal, but the two did make it up the stairs with minimal damage. Harry stood on the landing, staring at his bedroom door.

“What's the matter?” Draco asked as he stood next to Harry, watching him intently.

“I don't want to go to my room.” Harry said, his voice so low that Draco almost couldn't hear it. He did, though, and his Slythein mind took the admission very encouragingly.

“Come to my room, then.” Draco said. He went and tried to open the door, forgetting that the thick wood tended to stick. He responded the resistance with a powerful shove, which opened the door. It also sent him flying inside, falling to the floor in a heap. Harry called his name in concern, following him inside automatically. However, he was too drunk to realize that Draco was already moving. He'd flipped himself back over and was about to stand when Harry tripped over his leg, falling on top of him. Draco grunted hard, the full weight of the Golden Boy hitting him right in the abdomen and knocking the wind out of him.

“Whoa.” Harry said, his sudden fall making him dizzy. He slowly leaned up into he could look into Draco's face. “You okay?”

“Peachy.” Draco muttered, still out of breath and in some pain. Without thinking, he moved Harry's hips so that he wasn't sitting on his stomach. His eyes widened as he realized his mistake, an expression that Harry mirrored almost perfectly as he realized not only where he was sitting, but what he was sitting on.

“Um, Draco?” Harry said, his voice small and unsure. Draco put a finger to his lips, shushing him.

“You think too much.” Draco said. “Just feel.”

Harry could've told Draco that he was not capable of thought at that point, but that would've required the ability to form words. Although the distinct ridge under Harry demanded his attention, he found himself caught up in Draco's eyes. If you had asked Harry a year ago what color Draco's eyes were, he would have said grey. Now, though, grey seemed so inadequate it was almost comical that he had ever considered the simple description. Draco's eyes were not simply grey. When he was angry, they were the cold steel of a sword ready to slice its opponent to bits. When he was excited, they were glittering oval diamonds. When he was sad, they were dull and lifeless rock that was too heavy to bear.

And sometimes, when he had a Harry sitting on his 'sword,' they were molten silver that sent white-hot heat through Harry's body, slowly melting him from the inside out.

“Harry.”

It took Harry a while to realize that Draco had said his name several times, trying to get his attention.

“Yes?”

“Either move or get off me, I can't...you're so...”

Harry's eyes widened. “You want me.”

Draco narrowed his. “Noticed that, did you?”

Harry blinked. “Well, yes, but...you...want...me.”

Draco groaned. “Bloody hell, Potter. Can you talk yourself through this later?”

Harry froze. “Don't call me Potter.”

Draco looked at him, suddenly a little more focused, and nodded.

Harry felt himself relax a little at the reassurance. He didn't want to explain, at least right now. While he was drunk and wouldn't remember, he wanted to feel. However, once the decision was made to go forward, another problem presented itself.

He had no bloody idea what to do.

Luckily, Draco did. Whether he had sensed Harry's capitulation or not, his hips began to move. The circular motion brought his cock against Harry's perenium again and again. Harry scooted a little further back, the sudden friction bringing a hiss from Draco, and suddenly Draco's undulations were hitting him right there. His cock, which hadn't quite been at full mast, filled to bursting as Draco grabbed him by the hips and ground against him. Harry opened his mouth, his breathing becoming fast and shallow. It was like a panic attack, but it felt so good that Harry found he never wanted it end. When Draco began tugging on his hips, he began making counter-movements. It doubled the pleasure, wringing moans of pained ecstasy from both of them.

“Oh, dear God.” Harry gasped. “It's...oh God...I can't...fuck!”

“Just enjoy.” Draco said, his voice breathy and needy. “You can worry about stamina later.”

Harry's hips made a sudden bucking motion at the thought of multiple future encounters, though his mind shied away from such thoughts. He focused instead on the physical pleasure, which had increased even more at the rough movement. He bucked again, and gasped as it brought him ever closer.

“Oh, yessssss.” Draco said. Harry felt electricity shoot through his veins at the sound. Although all of this was new and wonderful, Harry found that making Draco moan, sigh, and yell was what brought him the most pleasure. With the realization came a terror he put to the back of his mind, and a determination he used to go even harder and faster.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, Melin, Harry. Fuck yes, oh...”

Draco's moaning commentary suddenly broke off with a high, keening sound. Harry felt Draco's hips stutter, and knew from experience what that meant. The thought was so absolutely hot that it brought Harry to his own climax. He spurted into his pants, his eyes snapping shut as his body was overwhelmed. As the mist of completion began to fade, Harry suddenly felt horrifyingly sober. He looked into Draco's face, and wondered if he looked as bedraggled.

“Go ahead and run.” Draco said sleepily once he saw Harry's expression. “It's what you do.”

Harry felt extremely conflicted, but overall he could face cowardice a lot better than he could face what staying would mean. He got up and went to the door, feeling more and more lost as he did. He turned back to Draco.

“I'm sorry.” He said.

Draco looked neither pleased nor pissed.

“Oh, Harry Potter.” He said. “You are mine.”

Harry's eyes widened and his breath, which hadn't quite evened out, sped up again. Not able to confirm or deny the proclamation, he simply left.

He was absolutely certain that he would be staying up all night, unable to sleep. If he'd been awake, he would have been surprised at exactly how fast he fell sleep.
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Harry Potter and the Prince of Ice