Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Endurance	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29171 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty-One
- 32-Thirty-Two
- 33-Thirty-Three
- 34-Thirty-Four
- 35-Thirty-Five
- 36-Thirty-Six
- 37-Thirty-Seven
- 38-Thirty-Eight
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author’s Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I appreciate your comments and support so please enjoy this chapter. I will try my best to update more frequently. As always, reviews are welcome.

Fourteen

The two men watched as Harry went sprinting down the hill to meet his best friends. Dumbledore smiled broadly, turning to glance over at Snape; the dark haired man was also smiling, though his was far more contained than Dumbledore’s. Snape was glad for Harry but couldn’t help remembering when he was bringing Harry’s seemingly lifeless body up that very hill, not so long ago…

“It’s nice to see him happy,” Snape whispered low enough so Elisha would not hear. She was near them but not too close. Snape noticed her nervous agitation, how she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as if trying to get a better look at what was happening in the distance.

“It is a relief, yes,” Dumbledore said with equal quietness. “Though the boy has been improving with you.”

“I suppose he has,” Snape mumbled, wanting to say more but refraining himself in the presence of his daughter.

But she was ignoring the two men entirely, now beginning to worry herself about how she would be introduced, what she would say, if the new arrivals would like her at all… Suddenly, as though she could control herself no longer, she stepped forward and with a brisk pace, began walking toward the reunited group, leaving the two men behind. Snape and Dumbledore watched her go without saying a word to her.

When she was enough out of earshot, Snape said, “I think he is doing well because of her.”

Dumbledore sighed slightly.

“Yes, she might be part of the reason. Social interaction is a very important part of recovery. But don’t discredit yourself, Severus. You have given the boy a safe, caring environment. He is very comfortable with you,” Dumbledore said.

“I’m trying,” Snape said, with a small frown.

Dumbledore could not help but smile a little.

“You always seem to think you should be doing more, my dear man,” said Dumbledore. “But you fail to realize the full impact of your kind heart.”

Snape scoffed and scowled.

“Are you certain you aren’t mixing me up with Promfrey?”

Dumbledore chuckled.

“Come now, Severus. Even Elisha has improved!”

Snape’s face was impassive. He did not respond.

“You seem stressed,” Dumbledore said.

“A bit,” Snape said dully. “Harry’s first Occulmency lesson did not go well… How am I supposed to continue to teach him with those other two here?”

“I’m sure they will understand if you pull Harry away for an evening or two during the week to continue training. Tell me, Severus, what happened in his lesson?”

“He collapsed. His mind is too tired from his experiences these past few months... I’m not sure if now is the right time to force him to close his psyche.”

“And why not?”

“Because he still needs to recover and accept his situation before he can shut it off entirely. Certainly, he has improved but there is much left to complete before his mind is in a healthy enough state to handle Occulmency.”

“I agree,” Dumbledore responded, sensing Snape’s growing agitation. The dark haired man was now pacing back and forth, his hands clamped together tightly. “But we cannot wait much longer for his mind to settle. He has to learn to close it soon.”

“Why soon?”

“I believe that when he learns to close his mind, he will be able to fully recover from this summer’s trauma. And when he is fully recovered, we can continue to train to defeat Voldemort.”

“He’s going to learn to defeat the Dark Lord by forcing himself to not remember these events?”

“Of course he has to remember them—”

“You’re essentially advocating that he represses everything,” Snape hissed.

Dumbledore sighed.

“What do you think is the best course of action then?” the old man asked.

“That we take our time with Occulmency. That we don’t spring it on him like this. That we don’t demand he perform high level magic that most adults can’t do themselves!" Snape paused from where he was pacing and said, “While he is at Hogwarts, he is in no mortal danger from the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord himself is weakened after what happened at the Ministry. He is focusing on his recovery and frankly, he has a way to go before he is at his full strength again.”

There was a long pause between the two men where the only sounds were the distant whooping and happy yelps coming from the reunited teenagers.

“I see your point, Severus,” Dumbledore said eventually. “And if you see it fit to wait, then wait.”

Snape nodded curtly.

“There’s something else,” Snape said, his voice as stiff as his back.

“Yes?”

“The other two. Where are they staying?”

Dumbledore chuckled.

“Do not fret about them,” said the old man. “They will spend their time in their usual dorms. Harry, however, will continue to stay with you.”

“Good,” Snape said, huffing disagreeably as he was annoyed by the emergence of more teenagers on his campus.

The two men fell back into silence.

In the distance, the trio made their way back up to the castle together, their outlines illuminated by the redness of the setting sun. Harry walked in between Ron and Hermione, the two flanking his sides. They were chatting animatedly, joking with Harry, all three glowing with happiness at being in each other’s presence. They made their way up the main hill slowly, taking time to savor their steps, to drink in the fact that they were reunited. Harry saw, as they emerged at the top, that Elisha was strolling to meet them.

“So,” Ron said quietly to Harry, glancing over at Elisha’s thin frame. “Who is that, mate?”

She was walking with gusto, her back very straight and stiff, as if trying to make a good impression. Harry heard a slight tinkle of apprehension in Ron’s voice. He wondered how exactly he should begin to explain this but before he could get the words out properly, Elisha had made her way to them.

All three teenagers stopped, as did Elisha. A faint red flush crept up in her cheeks. She was smiling at Harry, but he could see it was forced; she was nervous and he could tell by the way she clenched her fists together, nails digging into her palms.

“Hey, well, uh,” Harry started, feeling foolish at his inability to articulate himself. “Ron, Hermione, this is Elisha. Elisha, these are my two best friends.”

Handshakes went around the teenagers. Elisha was still smiling nervously but she did not say anything.

“Er, shall we head back up then?” Harry asked after a long pause, now feeling rather nervous himself.

The others murmured their agreement and in a sudden silence, walked back together to the castle. Elisha was keeping close to Harry, while Ron and Hermione kept a few paces behind them. Elisha glanced at Harry apologetically, but the boy could only smile back. He wondered what Dumbledore had in store for them and soon found out when they all reached the Headmaster and a tight-lipped Snape.

“Welcome!” Dumbledore said gracefully as the group piled before him. “How lovely to see you all reunited.”

He beamed at Ron and Hermione.

“I trust you had a good journey?”

“Oh yes,” Hermione said, grinning. Ron nodded next to her, looking temporarily dumbstruck that the Headmaster was addressing him so personally.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said softly, “Now do not worry about your possessions, Miss Granger and Mister Weasley. They will be brought to the castle for you.”

“Thank you,” the two murmured.

Dumbledore smiled again; he glanced at the group and saw Elisha’s awkward frame huddled next to Harry.

“And you’ve met Elisha. Fantastic!” the old man said. Snape’s lips were plastered tighter together at this statement. The teenagers nodded, Ron and Hermione eyeing Snape curiously. Dumbledore noted their looks but did not respond to them. “Shall we have dinner then?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ron muttered, rubbing his flat belly.

Dumbledore and Snape swept quickly back into the dining hall. Harry saw briefly that Elisha was frowning at her father, her hands still clamped together, but this time in annoyance. He followed the Headmaster and Snape into the dining hall. Like last year at Christmas, the hall was devoid of the four usual house tables. Instead, one smaller table was in the middle of the cavernous hall, awaiting its guests. Harry had almost forgotten about the grandeur of the Great Hall, not having seen it since he was brought back to Hogwarts.

Snape and Dumbledore sat down at the furthest edge of the long table. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Elisha took seats opposite them. The table was glittering with golden goblets, plates, forks and knives. Almost as soon as they touched the wooden benches, food sprang out before them on large platters—all types of dishes; roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, plenty of vegetables, soups, a variety of puddings, fruit desserts and tarts. Ron groaned in satisfaction as he began shoveling food onto his plate and then into his mouth. Hermione snorted in disapproval.

Harry grinned as he served himself and Elisha. She thanked him quietly and when she picked up her fork, he saw her hands trembling. He took an opportunity to lean over to Elisha while Hermione scolded Ron for eating like a pig.

“You okay?” Harry asked softly, moving toward Elisha under the pretense of grabbing a jug of pumpkin juice.

She nodded but Harry placed a comforting hand on her elbow anyway.

“Don’t worry,” Harry whispered. “They’re really friendly.”

“Thanks,” she said, a small smile on her face.

Harry glanced over at Snape and saw he and Dumbledore were engaged in a rather clipped conversation. Snape was eating a limited amount, while Dumbledore happily gathered the copious amount of food laid before him. Harry caught Snape’s eye and he noted a slight, friendly twinkle in those black orbs. Harry smiled and turned back to his friends.

Ron and Hermione were absorbed in eating as much as they could as quickly as they could, though Hermione was far more dignified than Ron. Like her father, Elisha had not touched much of the food. Perhaps, Harry thought, they were both nervous but where Snape looked contemptuous, Elisha looked worried.

“You know,” Harry said to Ron, finally breaking the silence, “you think you’d be used to this kind of cooking, since your mum is brilliant in the kitchen.”

Ron said something unintelligible as he swallowed a huge spoonful of potatoes.

“Yea but,” he said, chewing wildly, “she never makes this much.”

The trio laughed and Elisha smiled nervously.

“So Elisha,” Hermione said, ignoring Ron as he continued to inhale food at an inhuman pace, “what brings you here over the summer?”

Elisha, who was about to take a bite of some tart, immediately put her fork and knife down, seemingly caught off guard at being addressed. She cleared her throat.

“Training,” she said tersely in a small voice.

Hermione smiled kindly.

“Extra training always sounds good to me!” she said.

Ron laughed.

“Of course it does! You practically live in the library.”

Hermione glowered at him, but Harry knew there was affection buried somewhere beneath her stare.

“At least I have my priorities right,” she said with finality.

Ron frowned. “And what? Harry and I don’t?”

Harry snorted into his goblet of pumpkin juice. Of course he and Ron didn’t, he thought gleefully, a sudden image of wrongdoing coming into his mind. The boys grinned at each other.

“Oh dear,” Hermione said in mock disapproval.

Ron rolled his eyes and also turned to Elisha.

“So what house are you in?” he asked her as he piled more chicken onto his plate. “I don’t reckon I’ve seen you around in ours.”

Elisha cleared her throat again. The faint blush that had left her was now back.

“I actually… I’ve never been sorted.”

“Never?” Ron asked. “How is that—”

“She’s obviously been home schooled or goes to a different institution,” Hermione said in an exasperated voice. “Honestly Ron, Hogwarts isn’t the only wizarding school that exists.”

“Of course I know that!”

“I wish I went to Durmstrang,” Elisha said quietly. Harry was happy she was beginning to participate though he wasn’t sure how he felt about her choice of school. “But I’ve been home schooled.”

“Oh!” Hermione said breathlessly, now sitting forward in her chair. “You don’t find many witches and wizards who are home schooled now-a-days. What’s it like?”

Elisha shrugged.

“Rather dull. I suppose there isn’t the same structure that you’d get at a school.”

But Ron looked gleeful.

“Yea but no tests—”

He stopped at the look on Hermione’s face. Elisha laughed softly. Harry was grinning too.

“You two haven’t changed at all,” said the boy affectionately, “still bickering.”

“Oy it’s not that bad, is it?” Ron asked sheepishly.

“It’s funny,” Elisha said.

Ron smiled ruefully.

“I’m glad someone here can appreciate me,” he said.

The four proceeded to finish their meal merrily and when they were full to the brim with delicious food, the plates cleaned themselves automatically, returning to their gleaming golden sheen. Ron muttered something about wanting to lie down and Dumbledore suggested they get to bed for the evening.

Everyone stood and made their way into the main corridor, Snape and Dumbledore in the lead. Ron and Hermione had left after and were standing by a staircase, waiting for Harry. They were glancing at Harry expectantly; he knew they wanted to be somewhere more private now that the meal was over.

Harry turned to Elisha before they left the dining area.

“Would you mind if I went with them for a little while?” Harry whispered to her.

“Of course not!” she whispered back. “Spend ages with them. You haven’t seen them in so long.”

Harry smiled, feeling slightly guilty that he was leaving Elisha alone. They had, after all, been attached to each other for days now.

“Thank you,” he said to her.

They parted at the staircase. Dumbledore told them the password to Gryffindor tower, bid them a good night and promptly pulled Snape away with him. Elisha waved farewell to the trio and followed in her father and Dumbledore’s footsteps as they wove down the dark corridor, presumably to Snape’s quarters.

“Let’s go,” Ron said happily.

The three trudged up the main staircase, past portrait after portrait that peered at them curiously, past suits of armor that creaked as they walked away, up three more sets of huge stairs until they reached the portrait of the fat lady. She did not look surprised to see them. Perhaps Dumbledore had informed her students were staying over the summer.

“Password?” she asked, smoothing a wrinkle in her violet dress.

“Corpulus Magnus,” the three said.

The portrait swung forward to reveal the entrance to the tower. Harry walked in first, sighing as he imbibed the scene around him, the familiar circular room, the squishy armchairs, the cozy fire burning in the grate, a heavy moon peering in from the windows. The three promptly sat down in three armchairs by the fire.

“So… what’s been going on with you, mate?” Ron said, leaning forward to face Harry.

Harry sighed. He could feel his heart starting to beat a little faster. Should he just spill everything now or wait?

“Before I even go into that,” he finally said, keeping his voice even, “what have you guys been up to? Anything interesting?”

“Eh, the usual,” Ron said, “Hung out at home. Bothered Fred and George. Annoyed mum… Hermione came over last week though, which was nice.”

“Yes it was,” she said, getting comfortable in her chair and pulling her knees to her chest. “Before I was there I spent the holiday with my parents. They took me to France again, we spent three weeks in Paris.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry said quietly. His heart was hammering faster now. He had hoped they would talk longer, as to give him some time to figure out what’d he say himself.

“It was,” Hermione said. Harry noted she looked worried. “But Harry… why are you here? Dumbledore has never let you come here early before. You didn’t answer our letters...”

“And what’s the deal with Elisha?” Ron asked. “And Snape?”

Harry decided to tackle Ron’s questions first; they seemed easier.

“Elisha is—” Harry started but stopped and regrouped his thoughts. He let out a long breath and said, “Let me preface what I’m about to tell you with that she’s ruddy brilliant and really nice—but… ershesSnapesdaughter.”

Harry said the end so quickly he wasn’t surprised that Ron and Hermione looked confused.

“Come again?” Ron asked, laughing.

“She…” Harry sighed. “She’s Snape’s daughter.”

The silence was absolute. Ron looked floored, Hermione merely thoughtful.

“What the hell!” Ron barked, aghast. “How’s that possible?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked slowly. He couldn’t help but be amused at the horrified look on Ron’s face.

“How is it possible that Snape produced someone that good looking?” Ron said.

All three of them laughed.

“She is very pretty,” Harry agreed. He privately thought Snape was rather good-looking too, a rugged type of handsome and Harry suddenly remembered Snape’s sinewy muscles, his thin, lithe body… The boy stopped the thought as soon as it came and felt disgusted with himself.

“She looks nothing like him!” Ron muttered, almost to himself. He seemed outraged. “Fuck. And you say she’s nice?”

“Very,” Harry said, forcing himself back to the present moment. “As… as a matter of fact, Snape is too.”

Another silence.

“That’ll take more explaining,” Ron said, smiling.

“You know, Harry,” Hermione interjected. “Elisha does look a lot like someone.”

“You think she looks like Snape?” Harry asked uncertainly. He tried to see the resemblance, but it was only in her eyes.

“Well they do have similar eyes,” Hermione said slowly, echoing Harry’s thought. “But actually… I was going to say, she looks a lot like you.”

“Me?” Harry asked.

“How do you figure that?” Ron said.

“Well,” Hermione said slowly, looking at Harry so seriously it made him feel worried. “I noticed at dinner, when you two were sitting next to each other. You two have the same bone structure, the same cheekbones. You have similar foreheads... I mean you even have the same kind of hair—”

“Hair? If that’s the case, Harry and I might as well look alike,” Ron laughed.

Hermione frowned.

“I’m not sure about your theory, Hermione,” Harry said. “I mean, yeah… we’re both pale—”

“And bloody thin,” Ron said helpfully.

“Just a thought,” Hermione said.

“So who’s Snape’s wife then?” Ron asked, real curiosity coloring his voice now.

“Dunno,” Harry said. “He’s never mentioned one and I’ve never seen a ring on his hand… Elisha hasn’t mentioned her mother.”

“Odd,” Hermione said.

“I suppose but maybe they’re divorced or something?” Harry asked.

“It’s a possibility,” said Hermione cryptically.

“And she’s never been to a school?” Ron asked.

Harry paused; he realized then how very little he knew about Elisha.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Well she should consider herself lucky,” Ron said, his hands on his knees. “No exams ever? I’m jealous.”

Harry laughed but Hermione pursed her lips together. She reminded Harry of Snape at the dinner table—

“And Snape’s nice you say?” Ron asked, a mocking tone in his voice. “I guess that means pigs can fly now.”

Hermione scowled.

“No, he really is,” Harry said apprehensively. “He…um, he’s taken good care of me this summer.”

“You’re living with Snape?” Ron whispered, leaning forward so much now he was in danger of falling off his seat. “You’re not staying in the towers?”

“No,” Harry said, looking away from Ron’s confused eyes. “I… Snape… Snape’s helped me a lot.”

“Helped you with what?” Hermione asked sharply.

Harry took a deep breath, letting the air completely fill his lungs before speaking again. He decided now was better than never to tell them.

“Promise you won’t freak out?” Harry whispered.

The two nodded, looking apprehensive and worried.

“The reason why I’m here,” Harry said in a voice so small he barely heard himself, “is because…” He took another deep breath. “Because my uncle assaulted me in July… He—he almost killed me.”

Harry was not looking at his two best friends. He was staring into the smoldering fire pit, but the sounds of their breath hitching in shock, in anger, did not escape his ears.

“Fuck!” Ron screamed, jumping up so quickly that Hermione shrieked. “We’ll fucking kill him Harry!”

“No,” Harry said firmly. He too stood. His whole body was shaking visibly with his confession. “No. He’s been dealt with. I don’t have to worry about him again… Forgive me, I-I don’t want to go into the details of what happened…”

Hermione had stood from her seat and closed the space between her and Harry. She hugged him closely to her, wrapping her arms tightly around his thin chest, over his slightly protruding ribs, over his rapidly beating heart.

“You never have to tell us anything you don’t want to,” she said softly. “You know that.”

Harry squeezed her back.

“I know… thanks, Hermione.”

She let go of him. He felt a pang in his heart when he saw tears flooding her eyes.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she said.

Harry looked away again; he feared he would begin to cry himself. He wanted to remain as composed as possible for his friends, especially since he hadn’t planned on telling them any of this tonight. He wanted them to know he was doing better.

“It’s…it’s fine. It’s over. I’m trying to move on and Snape has helped with that. He… he was the one who found me, apparently. He’s the reason I’m here right now.”

Ron swore again.

“I guess this means we can’t treat him like shit anymore,” the redhead said weakly, trying to bring humor into the conversation.

Harry smiled back feebly.

“Nope, not anymore,” he said quietly.

The three took their seats again. Harry was fumbling with his fingers, trying to find something to do as silence took over again.

“So how long have you been here?” Ron finally asked.

“About a month, maybe longer.”

“Blimey,” Ron whispered, his head in his hands now. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I wanted it to be face to face,” Harry said.

“Don’t apologize!” Hermione said, looking aghast. “You’re okay, that’s all we can ask for.”

“Exactly,” Ron said quietly, now rubbing his tired eyes.

Harry took another calming breath. He stared into the fire but when he glanced back up, minutes later, it was to find Ron and Hermione glancing back at him. They both gave him strong, caring looks, looks of solidarity, two looks that told Harry they would always be by his side.

*

Days mulled past in contemplative silence. The trio were constantly attached to each other but the conversation from nights before did not come up again. Harry was grateful neither Ron nor Hermione pushed him to continue; he knew they probably wanted to, but refrained. He did not tell them about the cutting, or the fact that Snape had caught him doing so; he didn’t tell them about the strange connection he and Elisha had, or even stranger, the dreams he had been having about Malfoy. Harry thought there would be a time to possibly confess those things, but he didn’t want to put too much on his friends at once.

The night of their conversation, Harry stumbled back very late into Snape’s quarters after Ron and Hermione had gone to bed. He saw neither Snape nor Elisha that night. He didn’t see them the next day either. Snape emerged a few days after, looking worn down and stressed but Harry merely had peeks of him. It was at the end of that week when Harry saw him clearly in the morning, seated at his dining room table, pouring over piles of papers and books. Snape made him breakfast in silence and Harry did not press him further. He had not seen Snape this stressed in a while.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent all waking moments together. The other two also voiced an interest in spending time with Elisha, but as Harry could not figure out where she was, they couldn’t involve her in their plans. But Elisha emerged at the end of that week too. Harry and Snape were having a quiet after-dinner tea in his kitchen when Elisha walked in, her black hair waving about her pale skin.

Harry examined her face closely for the first time since Hermione mentioned they looked similar. He wished he could see what Hermione saw, but he didn’t. He just saw a tired girl, none of the same cheekbones or forehead they supposedly shared. It seemed Hermione was wrong for once.

“Hey,” Harry said, standing up. Snape was peering at the two from his open book.

She smiled at Harry softly and was about to walk out when Harry piped up, “Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure,” she said.

“See you later,” Harry said to Snape. The man nodded and watched as the two departed from the kitchen and out of his quarters.

“How have you been?” Harry asked Elisha as she closed her father’s front door behind her.

“Well enough,” she said, looking at Harry. “Busy with Dumbledore, really.”

“So your training is going well?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said, sighing. “It drains me though. I’m sorry that I haven’t been present.”

“Don’t apologize,” Harry said. “Though Ron and Hermione do want to get to know you.”

“Do they?” Elisha asked. She stopped walking now and looked at Harry curiously. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, taken aback.

“I just… I mean… I—” she fumbled with the words, blushing.

“Did you think they wouldn’t want to be your friend?” Harry asked her.

“Honestly, I didn’t see why they would want to be.”

Harry gaped at her.

“How can you say that? You’re wonderful,” he said, holding her shoulder kindly.

She looked away; she reminded Harry briefly of himself for a moment.

“I don’t have a lot of friends,” she whispered, fidgeting with a button on her blouse.

“I know,” Harry said softly. “But there are two people here who would love the chance to get to know you.”

“I…I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.” Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Do you want to come hang out with us for a little while? They’re up in the tower, but we can leave whenever you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Then I’d really like that. I’d like that a lot.”

The two left together in pursuit of Gryffindor tower.

Later that evening, after (Harry thought) a lovely time where Elisha, Ron and Hermione bonded, Harry stumbled into bed. He pulled the sheets up to his chin, snuggling against the soft fabric, reveling in how much his arms ached, how heavy his eyelids felt. He fell asleep almost immediately.

For the first time in days, he was back in his old dream with Draco.

They were seated across each other again. He stared into Draco’s eyes. The blonde’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, and unblinkingly, he stood from his seat, towering over Harry’s form. Draco’s hands rested on Harry’s shoulders, soft fingers touching the delicate skin of Harry’s neck. Harry glanced up at Draco and his breath hitched.

Draco was leaning in now and Harry was fighting desperately with himself to stay asleep. He could feel his brain working in overdrive to force him to wake, to force him to realize that this was not real, but Harry was pummeling his subconscious to keep going, to see if Draco’s lips would finally connect with his—

They were so close. Draco’s mouth was centimeters from Harry’s; Harry could see a slight crack in those lips and was seized with an urge to run his tongue over it, to soothe it, to taste it. Harry felt blood rushing to his groin again, felt his whole body shaking, sweat erupting from every pore. Suddenly, the blonde’s mouth moved from before his and Harry gasped, hips bucking up when he felt feather-light lips press against his neck. Draco’s hands were firmly on Harry, holding him down.

Stay asleep, Harry willed himself. It doesn’t matter if this is real or not.

The lips were moving up his neck slowly, teasingly, biting and sucking in intervals. Harry’s hands found Draco’s chest, fumbling to pull his shirt open but the moment Harry made contact with the blonde, their bodies were pulled away.

Draco stood before him again, his face impassive but his eyes… They were glittering with lust, lust and something more, but Harry did not know what else they held.

“No touching,” Draco whispered. “Only I touch you.”

Oh my God, Harry thought, trembling. Yes, yes, yes!

He successfully stayed asleep until the dream completed itself, until he and Draco had explored each other’s bodies. The blonde remained fully clothed but by the end, Harry was naked on the floor and writhing at Draco’s touch, squirming and crying out as he came by Draco’s hand. The boy remembered the labored sound of Draco’s breathing, the intensity in his gaze, the sounds bursting from his lips as he watched Harry release for him, Harry screaming Draco’s name…

Harry woke the next morning for the first time with a faint, sleepy smile. He did not bother to think of the implications of the dream, the fact that he let it go so far. He didn’t once fathom how he would deal with the real Draco when Hogwarts started in a just a few more days.

TBC
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Endurance