Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Say My Name	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 30143 -:- Recommendations : 10 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: Sorry this is a bit later than usual, guys! This chapter really made me work for it. I hope it's not terrible... I've spent so much time with it, I don't even know anymore. And a big thank you to my reviewers, both old and new, for your incredibly kind (and motivating) words. I couldn't have done it without you!
There is a good amount of smut in this chapter (if the title wasn't already enough of a giveaway), but I have a feeling you might have been expecting it. In fact, I've decided this will be my last smut/lemon warning. From here on out you can just assume I will throw in some sexy times on occasion to keep things spicy :)
Chapter 11: Love On Top
When Harry’s eyes snapped open Christmas morning, he had no idea what could have woken him so early. The house was preternaturally quiet, and Harry guessed the previous night’s festivities were to blame. He wondered if he was the only one who wouldn’t be entering Christmas morning hung over. Luckily, they made a potion for that, though he doubted there was enough to go around. He chuckled at the thought of the Weasleys half-heartedly squabbling over the supply.
Harry himself was grateful that he had ended the evening with his wits about him, considering what had happened with Ginny. He shuddered to think how things would have unfolded if he had been out of his skull on elven wine. He didn’t think even under the influence of alcohol he would have had a desire to be with her, but he wouldn’t have been able to fend off her advances or help her to see reason so easily, in all likelihood. His stomach twisted at the thought of what could have been.
He had promised not to tell anyone, and he was happy to keep that promise when it came to the Weasleys. Keeping it from Draco, on the other hand, he felt a bit squeamish about. This was the kind of thing you were supposed to tell your significant other, right, even if you promised not to? Because even though nothing happened, the act of not telling made it into a kind of secret. And that was bad, right?
Or would it simply upset Draco more to know it? Would it make him unjustifiably jealous or distrustful? It wasn’t like Draco needed any more reasons to dislike Ginny.
He wished he could ask Hermione’s advice. She would have good insight. But he wasn’t allowed to talk about it. He felt a surge of anger towards Ginny for putting him in this position in the first place. What had she been thinking?
She wasn’t.
Harry heaved a sigh and then got himself out of bed. He would just have to decide about all of this later, after the festivities, after he finally saw Draco again and had his way with him a few times. Maybe then his head would be clearer.
He got dressed quietly so as not to disturb Ron, who was tangled in the covers of his bed, snoring softly. He tread carefully down the stairs, trying to avoid the ones that creaked, and made his way into the kitchen.
Molly was the only Weasley who had beaten him out of bed. She was working away silently, baking bread and preparing enough sausages and eggs to feed an army. She looked up as Harry came in.
“Good morning, Harry, dear. Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” said Harry. “And I think I’ll probably be feeling better than most this morning.”
Molly chuckled, though it was a bit forced. “Yes, I daresay most of us let it all hang loose last night, didn’t we?” Harry couldn’t mistake the melancholy in her voice, and as he got closer he saw that her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening. Harry knew she must have been thinking about Fred.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Oh, I think I’ve got it under control here.”
“I don’t mind helping,” said Harry. “Honestly.”
“Would you just… talk to me? About anything. I could use the company.”
Harry smiled at her. “Of course.”
Eventually the other Weasleys started trickling in, some, like Arthur and Charlie, looking no worse for wear, and others, like George, looking as though they hadn’t slept at all. They all joined Harry at the table, chiming into his conversation with Molly, though the energy of the whole group was subdued. George didn’t say much at all, staring into his cup of tea and occasionally rubbing at his puffy eyes. When Ginny finally entered she avoided Harry’s gaze altogether and sat at the other end of the table.
Things perked up a bit with the arrival of Andromeda and Teddy, loaded down with Christmas packages, the baby sporting an adorable little wool hat and matching mittens. Harry scooped him up from Andromeda immediately, giving kisses all over his face and making him giggle.
“I missed you, Teddy,” he said softly, pulling off the boy’s mittens. “Look how big you’ve gotten already.”
Teddy smiled and grabbed at his face, and Harry laughed. Some things never change.
Breakfast was served, and Andromeda situated herself next to Harry so they could catch up. She wanted to hear all about the apprenticeship that he was starting next term.
Harry had decided to go with the master duelist. He thought it was most in line with his talents, but also that he could learn a great deal. A close second had been the Diaphone Thickett Foundation, which focused on Muggleborn rights and helping those of Muggle parentage integrate effectively into wizarding society. It was a worthy cause, and he liked the sound of the kind of work they did, but he was still uneasy about getting too politically involved, and had decided against taking an internship there.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about teaching,” Harry said. “I don’t know if I would want to be a professor, or just take private clients, but I think the work could be interesting.”
“That’s wonderful, Harry,” Andromeda said with a smile.
“We’ll see,” Harry said. “I’m trying on the possibility. I don’t want to commit myself to anything yet.”
Andromeda nodded her understanding. “And on another subject, what’s this I hear about you and Draco Malfoy?”
Harry flushed red. “We’re, um… involved.”
“Yes, I know,” she said.
Harry shrugged. “It’s going well so far.”
“Harry’s been getting letters from him every day since he got here,” George said, giving Harry a wink. “They’re madly in love. It’s quite disturbing.”
Harry blushed redder, aware that half the table was looking at him. “I’m leaving for Malfoy Manor this afternoon for a visit, actually,” he said, turning to Andromeda. “Any advice on dealing with Narcissa?”
Andromeda gave him a sad smile. “It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken,” she said. “But she was always intense when I knew her. A force of nature. If she’s the same person now that she was when we were young, well… I suppose my advice would be stand your ground, if you can. And if you can’t, and you get knocked over, don’t take it personally.”
Harry laughed. “You’re making me even more nervous than I was before.”
Andromeda laughed with him. “I don’t mean to. She loves fiercely, Narcissa. None more so than her son. If you love him, and are good to him, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Harry nodded. That was helpful advice after all.
The family gathered in the sitting room for presents, which, as always, was a chaotic affair. It was made even more so this year with Teddy, now able to crawl, getting into anything within reach. Harry tried to keep the boy on his lap, but it was no use. The presents, the people, the pretty lights on the Christmas tree, were all just too interesting.
Being the only baby, Teddy without question raked in the biggest haul of presents, from toys to clothes to books, not to mention his own tiny Weasley jumper. Harry did quite well himself, though, with new Seeker gloves from Ron, books on teaching and advanced Defense from Hermione, a selection of products from George’s joke shop, and many others. He pulled on his own Weasley jumper (green, to match his eyes, as always) and gave Molly an extra-long hug, knowing how hard the holiday had been for her.
He was grateful to the Weasleys for accepting him as a part of their family, but he had to admit that by the afternoon, most of his mind was on getting himself to Malfoy Manor and seeing Draco again. He was glad when all the present opening was done and he could sneak upstairs to pack and freshen up, so that he was presentable for Christmas dinner with Narcissa.
All packed, he bid warm goodbyes to nearly everyone in the house (Ginny, he was luckily able to avoid), ignoring lascivious eyebrow raises from George and Ron, and giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll see you for New Years’, yeah?” he said. They were hoping to plan a fun night in the city with some of their friends.
“We’ll see you then, mate,” said Ron with a grin. “Now go. Your Slytherin lover awaits.”
Harry rolled his eyes, one last time, for good measure. Then he walked into the cool afternoon to Apparate to the Malfoy estate.
He appeared just a few yards from the main gates, and he took a moment to stare up at the imposing behemoth that was Malfoy Manor, unable to repress a brief flashback to the last time he had walked this path. He had not been alone, then. Ron and Hermione had been his fellow prisoners, and Fenrir Greyback…
He forced himself back to the present, taking in a few lungfuls of chilly winter air to quell his racing heart.
Everything is different now, he reminded himself.
The gates opened for him, and he stepped through them, making his way down the hedge-lined walk to the manor’s immense front doors. To his left he heard the rhythmic wail of a peacock, and he turned to see a whole group of them, white as the snow, waddling about with their large tails trailing behind them like the lacy trains of wedding gowns. He smiled. He had forgotten about the peacocks. They were a leftover from Lucius' legacy, Draco had explained.
When he reached the steps the doors opened before him, and the tiny figure of a house elf appeared, female, if Harry could guess, although one couldn’t always tell.
“Mr. Harry Potter, sir,” the elf said in a squeaky voice. “You is being welcomed to Malfoy Manor.”
“Thank you,” said Harry, with a nod of his head. He followed the elf inside, happy to step into the warmth of the grand foyer, while the doors closed smoothly and slowly behind him of their own accord.
“Pipsy is taking your coat, sir,” she said, reaching out with her tiny arms. Harry gave it to her, thanking her again. “The master and mistress of the house is having tea in the south wing,” the elf went on. “I is taking Mr. Harry Potter there, sir.”
Harry looked all around him as he followed the elf through the house, taking in what he could. It looked very different than the last time he had been there: cleaner, perhaps, and most certainly lighter. The oppressive atmosphere that the presence of Death Eaters had laid upon the manor had obviously been lifted. Still, it was deathly silent, so much so that Harry couldn’t help wincing as his footfalls vibrated conspicuously in the stillness. Though Draco sometimes had a tendency to exaggerate, in this instance Harry could see that the descriptions in his letters had been quite accurate.
Pipsy was leading him towards the back of the house and eventually stopped outside a parlor who’s large French doors were open wide. Harry stopped with her, taking in the sight of Draco and his mother, both seated on lounges in front of a low table, sipping tea and talking quietly, each of their blond heads glowing a little in the fading afternoon light.
“Master Draco, Mistress Narcissa,” Pipsy said, bowing low as she entered the room. “Mr. Harry Potter is being here.”
They both stood quickly but gracefully as Harry entered the room. Narcissa approached him first, Draco not far behind. Harry made himself focus on Narcissa for the moment, though he was dying to get another good look at the man he had been missing for the past week.
“Mr. Potter,” Narcissa said in that dignified voice he recognized immediately. “Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry replied, taking her outstretched hand and giving it a light kiss, as he knew he was supposed to do. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
“Please, won’t you join us for tea?”
“Thank you,” Harry said. He glanced at Draco, finally, who had the slightest of smiles on his face. His eyes, though, were intense, and bored into Harry’s, conveying what he could not with the rest of his polite features. Harry flushed and reminded himself that it would be bad form to give Draco an enthusiastic snog in front of his mother.
He sat down, and was fussed over a bit by Pipsy, who poured his tea, lacing it with milk and sugar when he gave her consent, and offering him a multitude of pastries and finger sandwiches from the large tiered platter in the center of the table. Aware that both of the Malfoys were staring at him, he thanked the elf quietly and hoped they would soon feel permission to resume their conversation. Instead, though, Narcissa spoke directly to him.
“I hope your holiday has been pleasant so far, Mr. Potter.”
“You can call me Harry, Mrs. Malfoy. And yes, it was, thank you. Last night the Weasleys threw a party for some friends and neighbors, and then this morning we all exchanged gifts as usual.”
“Do all of the Weasley children attend Christmas at the Burrow? I imagine it must be quite crowded.”
Harry smiled. “It is. And loud. And this year we had Teddy and Andromeda, too, of course, and Teddy was crawling everywhere and getting into all sorts of trouble.” Harry bit his tongue immediately as he saw the look that crossed Narcissa’s face. It was brief, and he almost missed it, but it had definitely been there. Pain, sorrow even. He mentally kicked himself for not bringing up Andromeda more tactfully.
Five minutes in and she already hates me, he thought.
“I understand Teddy is your godson,” Narcissa said. “You were close with his father?”
“Yes, Remus was my teacher for a year. Draco’s too.” Harry glanced at Draco again, whose features were schooled into those of a calm spectator. He wasn’t going to get much help with this, it seemed. “But he was also a very close friend of my parents, and he helped me through some difficult times.”
“It must have been good for you, to have people in your life who knew your parents well.”
“Yes, it made a big difference.” Of course, all of the Marauders were dead now, but he didn’t point that out. He took a sip of his tea.
“Draco told me that you are to start apprenticing with a master duelist this term. Is that what you want to do, become a duelist?”
“Probably not exactly that,” said Harry, feeling increasingly like he was sitting for a job interview. “But I never learned formally, and I thought it would be good for me. And I’m considering teaching Defense as a profession, and this duelist also does that. He takes on private clients.”
“You want to become a teacher.”
“Maybe,” said Harry. “I’m exploring the option.”
Narcissa nodded. “Rumor has it you were set to become an Auror, but Draco tells me that isn’t true.”
Harry repressed a sigh. He felt as if he was walking on constantly shaking ground, unable to get a firm conversational footing. He wondered if this was just how Narcissa was and couldn’t help it, or if she was doing it on purpose. He remembered Andromeda’s advice, and steeled himself to answer. “Before the war I thought I wanted to be an Auror, and I was taking the classes for it. But now that the war is over I’ve changed my mind.”
“You would rather teach than fight.” Harry could not tell from Narcissa’s expression or tone of voice if she approved or not, and Harry decided to simply be honest.
“Yes. I’m a bit tired of fighting.”
“We all are, I think. Those of us who are sane, anyway.”
Harry couldn’t quite stifle his surprise. “I agree,” he said. He then immediately asked about their holiday, hoping to turn the attention away from himself. Another glance Draco’s way found the blond fighting a smile. Harry wished he could reach out and take Draco’s hand, touch him in some way. But he resisted.
Finally, the tea came to a close and Narcissa suggested that Draco show Harry to his rooms.
“I hope you will find it all to your liking,” she said.
“Thank you, and thanks for the tea.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Potter.”
Not wanting to correct her on his name a second time, Harry followed Draco out of the parlor, and waited until they were well out of earshot before saying, “Does your mother hate me? I can’t tell.”
Draco burst out laughing. “No, she doesn’t hate you. She’s not the warmest person, but she’ll be more expressive once you get to know her.”
“I feel like I kept saying the wrong thing, like it was a test that I was failing.”
Draco gave Harry a warm smile and took his hand as they made their way up a staircase lined with elegant green carpet.
“It was a test, but you didn’t fail.”
“Oh,” said Harry.
“My mother, despite her aristocratic upbringing, actually prefers honesty and forthrightness. You gave her both, so she is happy.”
Harry thought about that for a moment. “Well, that’s good, I guess.”
Draco laughed again, and squeezed his hand. “She rarely complains in front of most people, but those who know her well know her disdain for how disingenuous purebloods can be. It was always a point of contention between her and her mother.”
“If that’s true, then she would get along very well with Andromeda, I would think.”
Draco paused and turned to Harry. “They did, when they were girls. They were very close. But then Andromeda went off and married a Muggleborn, while my mother did the ‘right thing’ and married a pureblood. It divided them, though I think my mother would have preferred that it didn’t. But she…” Draco stared down at their entwined fingers for a moment. “She loved my father, and he didn’t approve of my aunt and… I think she regrets it now, though she would never say.” He gave Harry a wry smile. “She likes forthrightness from others, but she’s not always forthright herself, especially when it comes to painful things, or things she is ashamed of.”
“I think that’s true of all of us,” Harry said.
“So it is,” Draco agreed. “Come on, your room is this way. It’s right next to mine.”
Harry had to admit that he had been hoping for different sleeping arrangements, namely ones that had him in Draco’s bed for the whole week. But perhaps Narcissa was insisting on this, and the last thing he wanted to do was get on her bad side.
Draco led him into a suite of rooms that was decorated in a blue and green color scheme. The furniture was mostly tasteful antiques in dark wood, with a large canopy bed with thick down bedding.
Harry looked around the space. “It’s… a very nice room,” he said. “The bed looks comfortable.” He turned to Draco, who was watching him with what might have been amusement, or perhaps affection.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
“What’s not to like?” replied Harry.
“There is… another option.”
“Oh?” Harry raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence.
“You could stay with me.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile. “I was hoping you would say that.”
“I know.”
“Your mother won’t mind?”
Draco shook his head. “It’s not really up to her. Technically, it’s my house. My rules.”
Harry chuckled. “Maybe so, but I’d like to keep your mother happy, if I can. Life will be easier for both of us, and…” He bit his lip. “I want her to approve of me.”
Draco took a step towards Harry. “She already does. She knows what we are, what we have. She won’t interfere.” He cupped Harry’s cheek with his hand, and Harry felt tension crackling, jumping from Draco’s skin onto his, tension that had been building from a week apart.
“Good,” said Harry. “That’s good.” His eyes flitted to Draco’s mouth automatically, and saw the lips form a small smirk.
Draco leaned in, close enough that their noses were touching and their lips were just a hair’s breadth from brushing together. Harry’s heart pounded away in his chest and he breathed in Draco’s breath, tasting it, savoring the moment as the humming energy between them reached a fever pitch.
Incredible, he thought, that I can feel like this and he hasn’t even kissed me yet.
And then Draco closed the gap. It was such a small space, but it made all the difference. The light pressure of those soft lips had Harry opening himself to Draco without hesitation, and Draco delved slowly in, taking his time. Harry massaged his tongue against Draco’s, and let a small but needy moan escape him.
That soft sound seemed to trigger something in Draco, because he moaned in return, pulling Harry to him so they were flush against each other, one hand on the small of Harry’s back and the other gripping almost painfully into his dark hair. Harry was happy to follow suit, running his hands greedily over the defined muscles of Draco’s back and down to his perfect arse. He squeezed, pressing Draco even closer to him and grinding their trouser-clad erections together. Draco moaned louder.
“Feel how just how much I missed you,” he said breathlessly into Harry’s ear, rutting his cock against Harry’s again.
Harry, his head now dizzy with lust, barely managed a reply. “Feel me, too.”
Draco’s hands were sneaking up the edge of Harry’s shirt. “Merlin, Harry,” he said. “I want you, right now. I thought I could wait, but…”
“How much time do we have?”
Draco spared a glance at the grandfather clock. “Twenty, maybe thirty minutes, before my mother has Pipsy fetch us for hors d’oeuvres and aperitifs.”
Harry tried not to get sidetracked by how ridiculously pretentious that all sounded. “Plenty of time,” he said, reaching for the belt of Draco’s trousers.
“The way I’m feeling, I’m not sure I’ll last more than a few minutes,” Draco admitted breathlessly, tugging at the fabric of Harry’s shirt. “I had a whole… evening planned for us after dinner, where I was going to… to take my time, but…” He pulled Harry’s shirt off, his gray eyes raking the expanse of Harry’s bare torso. “Fuck, look at you. I can’t possibly… I have to have you. Right now.”
“Yes,” said Harry.
That was all that needed to be said. They were halfway out of their clothes already but Draco finished the job with a wave of his wand, leaving both of them exposed and panting. Draco practically tackled Harry onto the guest bed, but Harry came along willingly, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin. They released a collective moan as Draco ground into Harry and Harry bucked lustfully in response, increasing the friction.
This won’t take long at all, Harry thought ruefully, as he felt the sweet fire of climax already beginning to build deep within him.
Draco had conjured some lube with his wand and was using a hand to stroke them both, while simultaneously plundering Harry’s mouth with his tongue. He couldn’t keep up the multi-tasking for long, though, as the intense pleasure seemed to paralyze him. He stilled over Harry, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open. Harry drank it in, the knowledge of how much Draco wanted this, wanted him, taking him to new heights.
Harry added his own hand to the mix, exploring all of Draco’s erogenous zones before stroking his fingers along that rock hard cock. “Come for me, Draco,” he said. “I want to see you.” Draco opened his eyes, locking gazes with Harry, just as Harry reached down to give the blond’s bollocks a gentle squeeze.
“Harry!” he cried, erupting all over Harry’s tanned torso, gray eyes never leaving green. With just a few more strokes Harry was releasing, too, and he kept his eyes open, making sure Draco could see the all the pleasure he had given him.
Finally spent, Draco collapsed on top of Harry, the sticky layer of their combined cum gluing their abdomens together. Harry, too busy trying to catch his breath, couldn't find it in him to care.
“I told you I wouldn’t last long,” Draco said with a laugh. He lifted his head and gave Harry a couple of soft kisses. “I was too worked up.”
“Me, too,” said Harry. He glanced at the clock. “Five minutes from start to finish.”
“A record?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know. How long did that first time in the classroom take?”
“No idea.” Draco rolled off Harry, reaching for his wand to clean them off. “I was too busy being amazed it was happening at all to keep track of the time.”
Harry laughed, then sat up and launched himself off the bed with a satisfied groan.
“Hey, where are you going?” Draco asked.
“We still have a few minutes before dinner,” Harry said, looking back at him with a grin. “I thought I’d give you your Christmas present.”
That turned Draco’s pout into a smile, as Harry knew it would. Harry crossed the room to where Draco had banished their clothing, laughing to himself as he saw that Draco had managed to get them to fold and stack themselves neatly, even in the throes of lust. Harry began dressing himself.
“You can’t stay naked and still give me my present?” the Slytherin asked. “That would be two presents in one.”
Harry laughed and tossed Draco’s clothes at him. “I don’t want you to be distracted by other things when you open it.”
“Must be a good one, then,” said Draco.
“I hope so.” In truth, Harry wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing or not. It seemed like quite a good idea at the time. He’d been jumping out of his skin for the past two weeks with anticipation. But Draco was sometimes hard to predict.
He fished the two shrunk packages out of his pocket and enlarged them, setting the one that was meant for Narcissa on the small table where his clothes had been moments before. The larger of the two packages he brought to Draco, his heart sputtering nervously as he handed it over.
Draco, now dressed as well, took it and looked at it, as if trying to guess what it was, but then tore off the paper with a flourish, revealing a box of high quality French butter caramels. He looked down at it and licked his lips.
“These are my favorite,” he said, running fingers over the top of the box. “They’re hard to find. They don’t make that many batches.”
“I know,” said Harry. “But that’s just a small token, really. The other present is inside.”
Furrowing his brow in confusion, Draco lifted the lid off the box to see that there was a folded piece of parchment resting lightly atop the caramels. He lifted it out, setting the box aside and unfolding the parchment slowly. Harry’s heart thudded away in his chest as Draco began to read, his eyes growing wider with each dart across the page. Finally, he reached the bottom of the letter and stopped, only to stare at the signature for quite a long time. Then his face lifted, and his hand lowered, and he stared at Harry in disbelief.
“You did this?” he asked.
“I had help from Slughorn, of course,” said Harry. “But it was my idea in the first place.” He wished Draco would give him some sign, positive or negative, that would indicate how he felt at that moment. But all he could read in the blond’s features was shock.
“How…?” Draco looked back at the letter again. “I can’t believe you thought of this.”
“I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds,” Harry said nervously. “But I’ve heard that one of the hardest things about starting a career as a potions master is getting published early on, even though you need the exposure and credentials to build your business or get a job. I thought this would give you a leg up on the competition.” Draco gaped at him. “I didn’t do much, honestly,” Harry said. “I just submitted our paper, with the cover letter, which Slughorn helped me write.”
“Harry… this is… this is Potions Quarterly. This is… everyone who is anyone in the potions world wants their research published by them.”
“I know.”
“They’re putting us in the January issue. It’s the most important issue of the year.”
“I know.”
“People will… important people, Harry, will read our paper. They’ll brew our potion.”
“I know.”
Draco stood up abruptly and walked over to Harry, planting a firm kiss on his lips. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Ever.”
Harry finally let himself smile. “I’m glad you like it. I was nervous.”
Draco shook his head, looking down at the letter again. “I can’t believe it.” His brow suddenly furrowed. “This is only addressed to me, though. Why is it not to both of us?”
“I listed you as the primary author on the paper. I’m just an assistant. You’ll get all the credit.”
Draco gave him an incredulous look. “Why would you do that?”
Harry shrugged. “You did most of the work. I just helped. And it makes no difference for my career. Plus, I know the kind of attention my name garners. I didn’t want it to overshadow your work unfairly.”
“It wouldn’t have,” Draco replied. “We should share this. We both did it.”
Harry shook his head. “No. I want it to be yours alone.”
Draco continued to stare at him. “Why?”
Harry stared back, unsure how to explain. “Because…” he began. He looked at Draco some more, and then he knew. “Because… I love you.”
Draco’s eyes widened just a fraction, but otherwise his expression didn’t change. He continued staring at Harry as though the Gryffindor had started speaking Mermish.
There was a popping sound as Pipsy appeared suddenly in the room. Harry turned automatically to look at her. “Master Draco and Mr. Harry Potter, sirs. The mistress of the house requests your presence in the east wing parlor. You is expected there at once.”
“Thank you, Pipsy,” Draco said flatly, and the house elf bowed low before popping out of existence again.
Harry turned back to Draco to find that the shocked expression had been replaced by one of pure wonder. Harry smiled, and pressed his lips to Draco’s chastely. He was enjoying the fact that he had rendered Draco practically speechless. That alone was quite a feat. “Come on, then,” he said. “It won’t do to keep your mother waiting, will it?” He grabbed Narcissa’s gift from the table and put it into his pocket, then made for the door. He could hear Draco following behind him, and he smiled.
Narcissa was waiting for them where Pipsy had said, her back ramrod straight as she perched poised on one of the silk-upholstered loveseats. She had a glass of sparkling wine in her hand, and stood immediately as they entered the room.
“Have a drink,” she said. “Dinner will be served in half an hour.”
“What would you prefer, Harry?” Draco asked him. “Wine or firewhiskey?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Draco poured both of them two fingers of Ogden’s finest, handing Harry his glass. Then Draco joined him on the loveseat where Harry already sat, sitting much closer to him than he had during tea, close enough that their arms brushed occasionally.
Narcissa looked between the two of them briefly, her face impassive. “How did you like your accommodations, Mr. Potter?”
“Please, call me Harry,” he replied, remembering Draco’s advice about how Narcissa liked forthrightness. “I really would prefer it.”
“Very well… Harry,” Narcissa said. “So, was the room to your taste?”
“I like it very much,” said Harry, equivocating, but Draco jumped in.
“We’ve decided Harry will be staying with me in my room, Mother,” Draco said, and he stared at her as if issuing her a challenge.
Harry tensed. There was a beat of silence, in which Narcissa stared at her son, her face blank but her eyes piercing, reminding Harry remarkably of Draco for a moment.
“Very well,” she said, and then, strangely, she gave her son a small smile, as if she were proud of him. Draco nodded at her, and Harry realized that there was much about their relationship that he didn’t understand.
Narcissa encouraged Harry to eat the food that had been laid out for them, while she asked him and Draco about Hogwarts, what they and their friends were studying, and what the next term would bring. Harry, now a little less nervous and quite hungry, helped himself to canapés, crudité, and mild olives while he listened to Draco tell his mother about their Potions project and slowly sipped his firewhiskey.
“You’ll never believe what Harry gave me for Christmas,” Draco said, and Harry blushed under Narcissa’s careful gaze as Draco explained that their paper was going to be published.
Narcissa absorbed that stoically. “How very… creative,” she said finally.
For some odd reason, Harry wanted to burst out laughing. Narcissa was the most difficult to read person Harry had ever encountered in his life, and somehow, in that moment, he found it inexplicably hilarious.
It’s brilliant, he thought. There’s no real way to please her, or to make her like you, so you’re better off just being honest, and being yourself. It was oddly liberating. He felt himself relax a little more.
Another elf, a male named Loxie, announced that dinner was ready, and the three of them made their way into the dining room, where the places were set with more silverware and goblets than Harry had ever seen in his life.
Harry had grown accustomed to the Weasley method of dining over the years, which involved a lot of food all served at once, sometimes followed by a pudding course. The Malfoys, however, clearly preferred to dine in the French style, with multiple courses and wine that paired with each dish. Harry found it all a bit overwhelming, though quite delicious, and simply tried his best to use the correct fork and knife for each course, watching Draco surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was doing it right.
Conversation was still a bit stiff. There were clearly some subjects that were to be avoided, the war and the aftermath being the biggest and the most glaring. Their talk centered mostly around Hogwarts, Draco’s apprenticeship, Narcissa’s business dealings (as she was currently in charge of the Malfoy estate and its investments), and the latest pureblood gossip. Harry didn’t contribute much, but he made a point of listening, and reacting appropriately, and eating as slowly and gracefully as Narcissa and Draco did.
They finished their main course of quail with rosemary glaze and mushroom risotto and their plates were cleared magically by the elves, making way for the salad and cheese course.
Narcissa picked up her glass of wine, and sat back in her chair a little, looking as relaxed as Harry had seen her that night. She looked at Harry for a moment, her exquisite, austere face the picture of thoughtfulness as she asked with steady confidence, “How is my sister?”
Harry stared at her a moment, a hand frozen halfway to his own wine glass. He dropped his hand in his lap and cleared his throat. “She’s well, overall, I think,” he said. “She works hard, raising Teddy, and I think it’s draining for her, sometimes. Losing her husband and her daughter took its toll, of course.”
“I can imagine,” Narcissa replied softly.
Harry’s eyes flitted to Draco for a moment, unsure, but then he decided to take a chance. Narcissa had brought up the subject, after all. “I think she’s looking to reconnect with the family she still has,” he said. “She’s lost so much already, like we all have. I think she would welcome a correspondence with you, if you… were so inclined.”
He had surprised Narcissa, it seemed, if the delicate arch of her brow was any indication. But she did not seem upset. “You think she would?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ve thought about writing to her many times,” she said, and Harry was surprised that she was sharing this. “But time, and family, and our choices… have divided us.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Harry said, before he could overthink it. “Things are different now. The world is different. If there is ever a time for fresh starts, it’s now. I mean, look at me and Draco.”
He did finally let himself look at Draco now, to find that the blond was watching him closely, but with a small smile. He turned back to Narcissa, who was also considering him intensely.
“Indeed,” she said finally.
The conversation moved on, but Harry couldn’t help feeling that he might have planted a seed, one that could grow into something interesting.
Dessert finally came, a rich chocolate mousse, served with coffee, and Harry thought it might be time to give Narcissa her gift, though he was quite nervous to do so.
He took the package out of his pocket, unshrunk it, and placed it on the table.
“I brought you something,” he said to her. “I gave Draco his present already, of course, but I wanted to give you one as well.”
Again, it seemed he had surprised her. “How considerate,” she said. She took the gift and unwrapped it, while Draco and Harry watched in silence. She weighed the black velvet box in her palm for a moment, before opening the top to reveal what was inside.
She stared at the necklace silently for a good ten seconds. It was a Black family heirloom, one of the many that Harry had inherited: a large emerald and amethyst pendant on a woven white gold chain. The appraiser he had hired to take a look at the piece had valued it at over 50,000 galleons. Still, Harry had no qualms about giving it to Narcissa. It felt more like it belonged to her than to him in the first place.
“This was my grandmother’s,” she said. “I remember it.”
“Yes,” said Harry. “That’s what I was told. I thought you might… well… I wanted to return it to you.”
She looked up at him, her face as unreadable as ever. “Thank you,” she said in a flat voice. “That’s quite generous.”
“I have a number of heirlooms that I’ve found while cleaning out the house,” Harry went on, deciding to go for broke. “I hope you will feel free to go through them at some point, and take whatever you want. I’ve told Andromeda the same.”
Narcissa stared at him. “You don’t wish to keep any for yourself?”
Harry wasn’t sure what to say. Had he offended her? “I don’t think of them as mine,” he said honestly. “I would rather you and Andromeda have what you want. I’ll keep and find a way to display the rest, but I really don’t… um… my godfather was not particularly attached to any of it, I don’t think, so I don’t have much attachment to them either.”
“Very well,” Narcissa said, after a long silence. “Perhaps over the summer I will have an opportunity to take a look.”
“Great,” said Harry.
“Thank you for the necklace. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for having me here. Dinner was delicious.”
Narcissa nodded, and dessert was finished in silence. Harry was reeling, wondering if he had just done something very stupid. And the way Draco was looking at him, with his eyes narrowed slightly and his mouth set in a thin line, had Harry worried.
Harry and Draco were able to excuse themselves shortly after, and Draco led Harry to his rooms, a suite complete with a massive bathroom and a bedroom done tastefully but unsurprisingly in Slytherin colors of green and silver. The elves, Harry saw, had already brought up his trunk and hung up his clothes. He turned to Draco, unable to stand the silence any longer.
“Was I…” Harry began. “Did I do the right thing, giving your mother that necklace?”
“It was perfect, Harry,” Draco said. “I know she’s not very… effusive. But knowing her as I do I could tell she was quite moved by it.”
“Good,” breathed Harry. “I wasn’t sure. And you were giving me a look…”
Draco’s face closed off slightly. “What sort of look?”
“I don’t know. Like I’d done something wrong.”
Draco huffed a small laugh. “Merlin, Harry, no. That’s not it. It’s just that I’m… nervous.”
“About what?” Harry’s pulse began racing for an entirely different reason. He had dropped a bit of a bomb on Draco right before dinner by saying “I love you.” He had thought it would be appreciated, perhaps even reciprocated. It had felt right at the time. Now he found himself terrified that he had misstepped, and Draco was trying to find a nice way to tell him so.
“About giving you your Christmas present.”
Harry blinked. “Oh.”
“Yours was just so good, so thoughtful. And after what you did for my mother… I don’t think mine lives up-“
“Draco, don’t be ridiculous. It’s not a competition.”
Draco raised his eyebrows, giving Harry a sardonic smirk. “No? Are you sure?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes. Whatever it is that you got me, I’ll appreciate it.”
Draco let out a slow breath. “You say that now…”
“Why don’t you just give me the present, and I’ll prove it to you.”
Draco gave Harry a mild glare for his impatience, but finally nodded. “All right. But if you hate it-”
“Sweet Circe, Draco. I’m not going to hate it.”
“If you hate it,” Draco pressed, “you have to let me know, so that I can return it and get you something else.”
Harry felt his jaw clench. “You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that?”
Draco grinned, nervousness seemingly forgotten for a moment. “Yes, but you love me, so…”
“Yes, you annoying, insecure bastard. I love you. Now give me my fucking present.”
Draco laughed, and Harry grinned at him. “It’s in the other room. Come with me.”
He led Harry out of the bedroom and into another part of the suite, a small sitting room with comfy looking chairs by a fireplace and shelves of books lining the walls. Draco walked to a corner of the room, where something stood large and somewhat out of place, hidden under a blue sheet. Without further ado, Draco pulled the sheet off to reveal a silver birdcage.
Inside was a large owl with distinctive feathers speckled black, white, and gray. It stared at Harry with piercing, intelligent light green eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” said Harry. “This is for me?”
“His name is Orion,” Draco said. “I was going to give you the chance to name him but then it just came to me, and it suited him.”
“I like it,” said Harry. “Will you let him out, so I can get a good look at him?”
Draco did, and Orion immediately flew the short distance to land on Harry’s outstretched arm. He was heavier than Hedwig had been, gripping Harry securely with his talons. The wizard and the owl stared at each other for a moment or two.
“Do you like him?” Draco asked.
“Yes, very much so.”
“I wasn’t sure… you had mentioned that you needed to get a new owl, but you hadn’t yet and I didn’t know why. So I asked Granger, and she told me about your old owl, and how she died, and that you were close, and how you probably hadn’t replaced her because it would make you sad. But I thought, if someone bought one for you, that was really different from your old owl, and it was a gift, then it could be a happy experience instead of a sad one…”
Harry had never heard Draco babble nervously like this before. “He’s wonderful, Draco. Thank you.” His fingers stroked lightly across the bird’s back, and Orion closed his eyes, as though enjoying it.
Draco took a deep breath as if he was going to say more, but then simply sighed heavily. “Good,” he said.
“You really thought I wouldn’t like it?” Harry asked.
“I… well, an owl is a personal thing. I thought perhaps getting you one would be presumptuous, or that it might upset you.”
“I’m the opposite of upset. This was very thoughtful. Especially since you went so far as to ask Hermione’s advice for my sake. That was brave of you.”
Draco blushed. “Granger is… more tolerable than I realized she would be.”
Harry laughed, and petted the owl some more. “You know,” he said, after a minute, “Hedwig was the first proper present I ever really received. Hagrid gave her to me for my eleventh birthday. I mean, I’m sure I received real presents when I was small, from my parents, but I don’t remember those. And the Dursleys never gave me anything, no surprise there. So I think of Hedwig as my first real birthday present. It’s fitting that my second owl should be a gift as well, don’t you think?” He looked at Draco, only to find the Slytherin looking back at him with a sad, almost pained expression. “What?” asked Harry. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, Harry,” Draco said softly. “It’s just… when you say things like that, it makes me…”
“What? Sad? That’s not my intention.”
“Yes, sad, but also…” He took a deep breath. “You looking like that, like you’re just grateful for the little that life has handed you, it makes me want to give you more. It makes me want to give you everything. I think…”
Harry and Draco stared at each other. Orion, seeming to sense the change in atmosphere, spread his wings and took off to a corner of the room, where there was an owl perch with room for him and Archimedes both. They both watched the owl briefly, and then Draco turned back to Harry.
“It’s all right, Draco,” Harry said. “You give me plenty.”
“I think I would give you my own beating heart right out of my chest if you needed it,” Draco said.
It was as if Draco had sucked the breath out of Harry’s lungs in that moment. Winded, dizzy, he tried to find some way to respond. But he found he could barely stay upright as Draco drew closer to him.
“In other words,” the blond said, when they were only inches apart, “I love you too.”
Harry made himself take a shaky breath, but he only had a moment to relish the sweet oxygen before Draco’s lips descended upon him and he was breathless all over again. Draco coaxed Harry’s mouth open with his tongue, and Harry complied with a soft moan. It was really starting to get good when Draco broke the kiss suddenly.
“Get in the bedroom and get naked,” he commanded. “There’s so much I want to do to you.”
Harry didn’t hesitate.
***
Harry was not sure he’d ever had a holiday more relaxing than staying at the manor with Draco. Every morning started out quite deliciously, with them waking up naked together, sometimes fooling around, if they felt like it, or otherwise just talking idly until they mustered the energy to get up for breakfast. Most of their days were spent just the two of them, as Narcissa had work to do in her study or out of the manor. Sometimes they stayed close to home, playing chess or gobstones, or walking about the grounds, or flying on the professional-sized Quidditch pitch that lay just outside the back gardens. But other days they ventured out, to Muggle London, mostly, where they wouldn’t be hassled by reporters. They showed each other their favorite London spots, ate their fair share of curries, kebabs, and toasties, and went to the cinema and the zoo.
They were always back in time for dinner, though, so that Narcissa could spend time with them and hear about their day. It was slow going, but Harry thought he actually might be putting a crack in Narcissa’s stony exterior. She had readily taken to calling him “Harry” rather than “Mr. Potter,” and by mid-week was inviting him to call her by her first name as well.
The nights, though, were something else altogether. There was plenty of sex, of course, which was brilliant as always, but that wasn’t what made those winter nights special. Rather it was that in the safe and secluded blanket of darkness it was easier for Harry and Draco both to lay bare that which they sometimes hid by the light of day. Embarrassing secrets, painful memories, and sweet confessions were whispered into the air, unheard by anyone but the two of them, absorbed, accepted, and tucked away for safekeeping.
It usually began with a shy question, hesitant, nearly not asked at all. But the darkness was freedom, and the bedfellow trustworthy, and so the question would eventually be asked, albeit softly, almost unheard.
“When did you realize you were in love with me?”
Harry had smiled into his pillow when Draco had asked that. He could tell, just by the tone, that Draco had been wanting to ask it for a while. He thought a moment before answering.
“That’s hard to say,” he said. “Because by the time I realized it, I was already in it.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“I don’t think there was a moment when I said, ‘Aha! I’m in love with Draco!’ Just, one day, I knew I was.”
“So there wasn’t one thing I did, or said, that made you fall in love with me?”
“It deepened over time. It was a lot of little moments that built to something,” Harry said. “As for where it began… if I’m being honest, I think I’ve been at least a little bit in love with you since after the first time we were together. You know, after the Quidditch match.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Draco’s voice was dry, but Harry could tell he was smiling.
“Maybe that seems a little early to you. We weren’t even dating then. But I’m pretty sure it’s the truth.”
Draco laughed sardonically.
“What?” Harry asked.
“Just… you think that’s early?”
“You don’t?”
Draco didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Harry waited patiently.
“Since just October… that just seems like not very long to me.”
“Well…” Harry wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’ve wanted you since 4^th year,” said Draco. Harry went perfectly still beside him, hardly daring to breathe. “I don’t think you could call it ‘love,’ what I felt back then, considering how dysfunctional our… acquaintanceship was at the time. But I wanted you. I thought about you all the time.”
Harry swallowed. “Really?”
“Really. Why do you think I taunted you so much? Because when I did, you took notice. When I did, then you were paying attention to me. And I liked it, when you looked at me, or talked to me, even if it was with hatred. It made me feel… it’s hard to describe. You made me feel… worthy, I suppose. Even though I was your opponent, your rival, I was obviously a worthy one, because you focused your attention on me.”
Harry thought about that for a minute or two.
“I realize it sounds crazy,” Draco said into the silence.
“Actually, I was thinking it makes a sort of twisted sense.”
“’Twisted’ being the operative word.”
Harry turned over and gave Draco a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, well, a lot of things were twisted and tangled up back then.”
“You’re telling me.”
“So, you wanted me, during the Triwizard tournament, and during 5^th year, when I was acting like a lunatic half the time.”
“Yes.”
“And 6^th year, when I was stalking you. You must have liked that.”
“I did, and I didn’t. I liked the attention, as always. But that year… well… let’s just say I had put sexual interest down at the bottom of my list of priorities.”
“Yeah…”
“And I didn’t like that you might destroy my plans. Not that I wanted to actually succeed, but if I let you, or anyone else, stop them, then my mother would die.”
“I know, Draco.” Harry wanted to move quickly off that subject. “So, when did attraction turn into love, then?”
He heard and felt Draco shift beside him. “When Greyback brought you here. I don’t know… again, I’m not sure you could call it ‘love,’ but… when I saw you three, I was terrified. I was distraught. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I didn’t want him to get you. At the time I told myself it was just because I thought of you as our last hope. I wanted him destroyed and I knew you were the one who had to do it. But later, towards the end of the Battle, when Hagrid carried you out of the forest and everyone thought you were dead…”
Draco stopped there, and Harry laid a hand on Draco’s bare chest, running his fingers lightly over his skin. “Go on,” he said softly, after a minute.
“I remember pain, an unexpected, powerful pain in my chest, and I remember thinking, ‘I could have loved him. It would have been so easy to love him.’ And then you weren’t dead, and you killed the Dark Lord, and suddenly the world was a different place. There were new possibilities. Even before I had my trial, I felt lighter, clearer. And you testified for me and my mother, and we were free. And that’s when I started to fantasize. I couldn’t let go of that thought, that feeling I had when I thought that any chance to be with you was lost. Of course, I still didn’t really believe I had a chance with you. But I let myself fantasize about it.”
“I didn’t realize… I wish I had known you were going through all that.”
“Would it really have been better for you to know then, Harry?” Draco asked. “Wouldn’t it have just been confusing?”
Harry sighed. “I don’t know.”
“I think it would have been. I wasn’t the same person I am now.”
“Neither was I.”
“I used to wish it had all been different. I used to wish you had taken my hand that first day on the Hogwarts Express. But now… now I’ve accepted it. The good, and the bad. I think it probably all had to happen the way it happened.”
That was hard for Harry to agree with, only because so many people had died, and he often wished he could go back and change that. But then, when he let himself take the long view, he realized that if any one small thing had been different, it might have changed the outcome of the war. The only thing to do, really, was to be grateful and move on.
“Well, we’re here now,” he said.
“Exactly,” Draco replied. “We’re here now.”
***
Some confessions weren’t so sweet, like the night Harry decided to tell Draco what had happened with Ginny on Christmas Eve.
It was New Years’. Harry had managed to see his tentative plans with Ron and Hermione through, and he, Draco, and a whole group of 8^th years went into Muggle London for the parade and the fireworks. It had been a wild night, full of drinking, dancing, and general revelry. All of the 8^th years who attended, which included, of course, their closest friends, but also a couple of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, ended up getting along quite well, the divisions between their houses crumbling as they enjoyed the festivities. Draco had given Harry a snog to remember as the clock struck midnight and the year 1999 officially began, and they certainly weren’t the only ones who were clearly mad for each other. Harry kept having to throw things at the back of Ron’s head to get him to watch the fireworks, rather than simply stare at Hermione all night.
Harry and Draco finally Apparated home, completely knackered, and made to fall into bed.
“Will you resent me if I say I’m too tired for sex?” Draco asked as he stripped down to his pants.
“No,” Harry said, laughing. “I’d just fall asleep halfway through anyway. We’ll make it count in the morning.”
“Mm,” Draco agreed, sliding under the covers.
“Even without sex this is much better than how I spent my Christmas Eve,” said Harry.
“I hope so,” replied Draco, turning out the lamps with a flick of his wand. “With only Ronald to keep you company.”
And that’s when Harry’s stomach writhed unpleasantly, remembering that it hadn’t been Ron who had tried to keep him company. He had nearly forgotten about the incident with Ginny, but now it sat there, between them, begging to be told.
Things had been going so well. Harry and Draco were closer than ever. He didn’t want to ruin it, but on the other hand, people who loved each other told each other the truth.
“About that night,” Harry said, before he could stop himself. “There’s something I should mention.”
Draco went still beside him. “What sort of something?”
“It’s not a big deal, really, but… Ginny sort of… tried to… come onto me. She was drunk.”
Draco snorted. “Why am I not surprised? I knew she wasn’t over you. This was at the party?”
“No, after. Ron was with Hermione, and I had gone to bed, and she came to my room.”
“What did she do?” Draco asked, his voice growing tighter.
Harry really didn’t want to tell this part, but he wasn’t sure of any way around it, without being dishonest. “She… took off her clothes, and tried to… you know.”
“No,” Draco said, his voice dangerously soft. “I don’t know.”
“She tried to… seduce me. Like, talk me into sleeping with her.”
“What sort of things did she say?”
“Do you really… are you sure you want to know this much detail? Suffice it to say I made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t interested. I told her to stop, and she stopped.” Eventually.
“What did she say?”
Harry sighed. “She just started reminiscing about the old times, about our relationship…”
“About sex, you mean.”
“Yes.”
“The sex you used to have, together. She was reminiscing about that.”
“Yes,” said Harry, feeling more defeated by the minute.
“And then what did she do?”
“I eventually got her to stop coming onto me, by telling her that I loved you, and that I didn’t want her. And then she got really upset, but not at me. She started crying, I think because she realized how… messed up she was, I guess, about everything. The breakup, but also Fred’s death, and the war. She just kind of cried for a while. Then she left.”
There was a tense silence.
“Did you… comfort her?” Draco asked.
“I tried,” said Harry. “I couldn’t do much, really.”
“Did you hold her, while she was crying?”
Harry chewed on his bottom lip, knowing Draco wouldn’t like his answer. “Yes.”
“While she was naked.”
“I put a blanket around her, so she wasn’t really naked.”
“What were you wearing?”
“Draco…”
“Were you naked?”
“No.”
“What were you wearing?”
“Underwear.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
Another tense silence. Harry waited, his heart going double-time in his chest.
“Well, at least you didn’t fuck her. That’s something.”
“Draco…”
“I tried not to think about it, you know. I tried not to think about the fact that you were with her, in her house, for a whole week.”
“I don’t love her, Draco. There was nothing sexual about the way I comforted her. It was the same way I would have comforted Hermione. Like comforting a sister.”
Draco snorted. “I hardly think the two of you had a brother-sister relationship, Harry.”
“All right, bad example, or bad wording. It doesn’t matter. It was platonic. And at the end, she told me that she had finally realized that I didn’t love her anymore and that we would never be together again. She left with no illusions, because I was clear with her.”
Draco exhaled a shaky breath.
“You trust me, don’t you? You believe me, don’t you?” Harry turned fully towards Draco, though he could barely see the blond’s features in the darkness.
“Yes to both, Harry,” Draco said, after a minute. “But I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t like it either,” said Harry. “And I was pretty angry about it afterwards, to tell you the truth, especially since Ginny made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“Because I love you, and you are more important to me than she is. Being able to tell you the truth, being able to tell you anything and everything, is more important to me than any promise I might make to her. I want us to be able to share everything, Draco, the good and the bad. I never want to feel like there’s something I can’t say to you, or you to me. I want you to know all of me, and me all of you. That’s what I want. That’s how much I love you.”
The silence seemed to go on forever. Finally, though, Draco spoke. “Good answer.”
Harry finally felt like he could breathe again. “I’m sorry, Draco.”
“It’s not your fault, Harry. It’s hers.”
Something in Draco’s tone had Harry nervous for a different reason. “Please don’t…”
“What? Do you think I’m going to do something to her?”
Harry didn’t answer.
“I’m sorely tempted,” Draco confessed. “But from now on, I will simply ignore her. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist.”
Harry exhaled. “I can live with that.”
“Good. Now come here.”
Harry slid closer to Draco, to find that they were now face to face. Draco kissed him, then let his lips travel down Harry’s neck and then back up again. “Now,” he said softly, once his mouth had reached Harry’s ear. “What are you going to do to show me how much you love me?”
Harry smiled. It seemed neither of them were too tired anymore. And besides, some things were more important than sleep.
***
The rest of the holiday break passed far too quickly for Harry’s liking. He had started getting used to spending every night with Draco, and he had immensely enjoyed the time he could spend free of cares, worries, work, or the outside world. Though they had ventured off the Malfoy estate more than a few times, the past week had still felt like their own little personal bubble. Harry was sad to leave it behind, and already looking ahead to Easter break, when he could have Draco all to himself in Grimmauld.
The night before they had to return to the bustle of Hogwarts, Harry decided to take advantage off the last few moments of true peace and solitude and have himself a nice long bath. Draco’s tub, no surprise, was enormous, and came equipped with all sorts of taps that emitted delicious-smelling soaps and shampoos. Harry lay back in the sudsy water, thinking about the next term and the fact that his apprenticeship would be starting in a couple of weeks. He wondered what this master duelist would be like in person. He’d seemed knowledgeable, if not a bit arrogant, in his letters, but sometimes it was hard to tell through writing alone.
He heard the bathroom door open, and he opened his eyes. “Draco?”
“Who else would it be?” the blond’s dry voice came from behind him. He heard footsteps, and then Draco came into view, wearing a very luxurious looking white bathrobe.
“Could have been Pipsy,” said Harry with a relaxed smile.
Draco snorted. “Our house elves never barge into the bathroom unannounced. They’re too well-trained.”
Harry simply gazed up at him, too relaxed to concern himself with trivial things like a house elf’s training. “Enjoying the view?”
“I was actually thinking I’d join you.”
Harry sat up. “By all means.”
Draco removed his robe. He was completely naked underneath, and Harry got a nice long look before scooting forwards and making room for Draco to step in behind him. Draco sank into the water, which Harry had charmed to stay the perfect temperature, and sighed contentedly. Harry leaned back, resting the back of his head in the crook of Draco’s neck.
They remained that way for a good while, neither of them speaking. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed against Draco further. Draco leaned down and kissed the side of Harry’s head, then ran his nose up and down the Gryffindor’s neck, inhaling his scent. Harry smiled to himself, and looked at both their arms, which were resting side by side on either edge of the tub. Harry had never given much thought to how tanned he was until he saw his skin next to Draco’s lily-white complexion. It was a nice contrast, he thought.
“It’s our last night,” Draco said, pulling Harry out of his contemplation.
“It’s our last night here,” Harry corrected him lazily. “We’ll still be together at Hogwarts.”
“Yes, but it will be different. We won’t have as much time.”
Harry couldn’t argue with that. He had been thinking much the same thing.
“This was an indulgence. I recognize that,” said Draco. “But still, I wish we could have more.”
“There’s always Easter,” said Harry. “And after Hogwarts.” They hadn’t talked at all about their living situation post-graduation. The relationship had been too new, and the end of the spring term too far away, for them to really contemplate it. But a lot had changed in the past week.
“It feels so far away,” said Draco.
“I know.”
Draco ran his fingers up and down Harry’s forearms lightly, making him shiver. “I was thinking…” he began.
Harry opened his eyes when Draco didn’t finish. “What? What were you thinking?”
“I want to do something different tonight.”
“All right.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Harry sat up abruptly and turned around, wanting to get a good look at his boyfriend’s face. Draco had his usual calm mask in place, but Harry knew him well enough now to know that the expression hid his nervousness. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. I’ve thought about it all week.”
“You have?”
“Yes. You haven’t?”
Harry tilted his head. “I think about it on occasion. But I didn’t have any expectations or anything.”
“Well… what do you think?”
Harry smiled a slow smile. “Do you even have to ask?”
“Apparently I do.”
Harry leaned in and kissed Draco, taking his time. He could feel himself hardening at the prospect of Draco’s request, and an exploring hand found that Draco was doing the same. Harry repositioned himself, with his legs on either side of Draco’s, straddling him. Their cocks brushed lightly together in the warm water, and Harry kissed Draco more deeply, enjoying the way the blond was starting to pant with anticipation.
Harry nibbled at Draco’s earlobe and said, his voice soft and husky. “Of course I want to fuck you, Draco. You have no idea.”
Draco groaned in response and pulled Harry’s face back for a kiss. Things were already heating up, and Harry decided it was time to get out of the bath.
“Bedroom,” he said against Draco’s lips.
Draco nodded in agreement, and Harry stood, water dripping from his body. He stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying himself quickly. Draco was doing the same, and Harry took a moment while the blond’s back was turned to give him a nice hard smack on his beautiful arse. Draco jumped and turned to look at him, his eyes blazing.
“Oh,” he said. “Two can play that game.”
Laughing, Harry dodged Draco’s first attempt and made for the bedroom, Draco not far behind. The problem was that he had nowhere to run, and Draco tackled him stomach-first onto the bed with ease, giving Harry two stinging slaps to the arse that had him hissing in a mix of pain and pleasure. Draco grabbed Harry by the hips and turned him over on his back. He was straddling Harry around the torso, his large, erect cock standing out prominently in front of Harry’s face.
“I win. That was easy,” the blond said with a smirk.
“And I think I know what you want for your prize,” Harry said with a lascivious grin, sliding himself underneath Draco until his tongue was perfectly positioned to give the underside of his cock a nice, long lick. Draco groaned.
“Yes,” he said, as Harry took Draco fully into his mouth. “Yes, Harry.”
Harry grabbed Draco’s arse with both hands and pulled him closer. As he worked Draco’s cock with his mouth, his fingers began exploring around Draco’s entrance.
“Here,” Draco said breathlessly, handing Harry a bottle of lube from the nightstand. “Prepare me. I like when you do it.”
Harry nodded, lubing up and setting to work, dipping one finger inside Draco, followed not too long after by a second finger, all the while letting Draco gently fuck his mouth.
Harry enjoyed the feeling of Draco slowly opening up for him. He fingered Draco frequently, and they had been working on stretching him over the past few weeks, having gotten as far as three fingers. Still, Harry knew that a cock was larger than three fingers, and that Draco would need plenty of preparation and to take things slow.
Harry brushed over Draco’s prostate once, then twice, and Draco moaned loudly. “Keep doing that and I’ll come,” he said.
Harry released Draco from his mouth and smiled up at him, “Go ahead and come. I can get you hard again.” He knew from experience.
But Draco shook his head. “I want you inside me.”
Harry stared up at him. “Now?”
Draco moved off Harry, lying on his stomach and his arse exposed to Harry. “Keep preparing me. I’m almost ready.”
Harry did, enjoying the sight of Draco writhing on the bed as he inserted three fingers this time. He’d never gotten to see his fingers actually move in and out of Draco like this, and it was incredibly erotic, especially knowing what came next.
He started teasing Draco with his erection, running it along the smooth globes of Draco’s arse and delving into the gap between the two cheeks. He moaned with pleasure and anticipation, and heard Draco do the same.
“Turn over,” Harry said. “I want to be able to look at you for this.”
Draco rolled over onto his back, giving Harry a view of his flushed cheeks and glowing gray eyes. Harry continued to finger him, but leaned over Draco for a kiss.
“This is new to me,” he reminded Draco. “I want to do it right. You’ll have to guide me.”
Draco stared up at him for a moment. “I’ve never done this either,” he said finally.
Harry froze. He hadn’t realized that. Of course, that was because Draco hadn’t told him. Harry had just assumed, based on the way Draco had seemed experienced on all other matters with gay sex, that he would be experienced with this also.
“Don’t stop,” Draco said, his voice shaky. “Please, Harry. I want this.”
Harry nodded, though his nervousness was increasing by the minute. He had been worried enough about doing this right when he thought Draco at least had done it before. Now they were just two young men, figuring it out as they went. “We’ll just… go slow,” he said, as much to himself as to Draco. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Draco nodded. “I’m ready, Harry.”
Harry reached for the bottle again, lubing up his own throbbing cock and groaning at the touch. He was nervous, true, but he also wanted this just as much as Draco did. Lifting Draco’s legs, Harry positioned himself at Draco’s entrance, took a deep breath, and pushed forward, ever so slightly, feeling the head enter that first ring of muscle. He felt Draco tense briefly and then relax, and Harry pushed a little farther, running a hand soothingly up and down Draco’s thigh.
“Keep going, Harry.” Draco’s voice was husky with want, and it spurred Harry forward. He eased himself farther inside with a groan. It was so tight, so good.
Don’t come, he told himself over and over, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Whatever you do, don’t fucking come.
He was in Draco to the hilt, and though all he wanted to do was move, he made himself stay still. He knew this was important. Draco needed time to adjust. He opened his eyes, looking at Draco for confirmation that he was all right. Their eyes locked, and it pulled at something deep within Harry, sweet and painful all at once.
“Move, Harry. You can move.”
He did, slowly at first, watching Draco carefully, feeling him out. But as he felt Draco opening for him further, he began moving faster, moaning at how good it felt, and how beautiful Draco looked beneath him. He was managing to find Draco’s prostate every few thrusts, and it had the blond crying out, eyes open in blissful shock. Harry had to rein himself in so he wouldn’t come at that sight alone.
“Harry… fuck… so good… please.”
Draco made to reach for his own cock, but Harry got there first, stroking it gently so as to prolong Draco’s pleasure for as long as possible, though Harry wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out himself. He had said they would go slow, but he was pounding away into Draco now, too aroused by the way Draco cried his name to fully control himself.
“Draco,” he said, as he felt the fire building within him. “Draco, you are so fucking perfect.”
Draco only groaned Harry’s name in response.
“Fuck. I’m going to…” Harry tightened his grip around Draco’s cock, and slowed down his thrusts just a little to find that sweet spot inside Draco again. “Come with me, Draco. Please. I’m going to-“
Draco threw his head back and came, clenching around Harry so hard that it milked his orgasm from him instantaneously. He groaned as he felt himself filling Draco, and he collapsed on top of him, still inside.
“Gods,” Harry said, breathing heavily, “That was…”
Draco moaned underneath him, and Harry pulled out slowly, lazily peppering Draco’s neck and face with light kisses as he did. He reached for his wand and cleaned them off, and heard Draco giggle uncharacteristically.
“It tickles,” he said, as Harry flopped down next to him.
Harry looked over at him, watching as the smile faded slowly from his face, his features smoothing into calmness. There was a glisten in his eyes, though, that made Harry’s heart clench.
“Are you all right?” he asked the blond.
Draco closed his eyes and nodded, but Harry wasn’t totally convinced.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He had been trying so hard to watch for signs of discomfort, but maybe he was more wrapped up in his own pleasure than he realized, and had missed something.
“No,” said Draco, his voice throaty. “I’ll be sore tomorrow, but you didn’t hurt me.”
Harry rolled over on his side to face his boyfriend. “Look at me,” he said gently.
Draco did, and Harry saw the moisture was still there, threatening to spill over. Harry stroked a hand across Draco’s cheek. “If it was too much, too soon, we don’t have to do it again. We won’t until you’re ready.”
“It wasn’t,” said Draco, after a few seconds. “It was… you were… it was everything, Harry. It was everything.”
Harry wasn’t entirely sure what Draco meant by that. “I love you,” he said.
Draco smiled at him. “It was perfect.”
LLHati: Thanks! Writing these characters like they’re real people is the goal! I also totally find Draco relatable now more than I did before. Writing this has completely changed my perspective on him as a character.
djaddict: Glad you enjoyed it! Those were my favorite parts to write as well.
At this point I just feel bad for Ginny. Poor girl has a lot to sort out.
Dedicated_Reader: Lol I happen to really enjoy writing filler. It’s where all the good emotional meat is! My biggest concern is always that no one else will find it interesting, so I’m glad you enjoyed it!
inferi05: Thank you, and welcome to the fold! I hope this satisfied your expectations!
smn: Thank you so much! Your review was a great motivator for me to finish this chapter. I wish I could produce more than a chapter a week, but I can only write so fast! I hope you will stick with it to the end anyway :)
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