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Harry Potter and the Prince of Ice	By : Neverwood Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Anal, Angst, Fingering, H/C, HJ, M/M, Oral, Rim, Solo, Spank. I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. I do not recieve money for this in any way. For entertainment purposes only.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
Author's Note: Hello everyone! I've been meaning to get back to this story for some time now, but hadn't been able to for reasons I will explain briefly. I had originally had huge plans for this fic. It was going to be a grand, sweeping story about dragon shifters who had their own secret society within the Wizarding World that Harry and Draco would be a part of. I quickly realized that this was a bit over my head, but couldn't figure out how to dial it down into a manageable story that was still faithful to what I had already written as well as the general fire/ice idea I'd had. After a few months I had a breakthrough, but still took a little more time to A. get back in the writing groove and B. get the details in order so that I could do my story justice. Now I'm back in it, and I'm looking forward to telling this story that, while different from my original idea, I still feel like is a good, wholesome Drarry story.
That being said, I would still like to profusely apologize for my absence. As a fanfiction reader myself, I know how frustrating it is when an author seemingly disappears without a trace, leaving a story unfinished and their readers unfulfilled. I am very sorry for putting anyone through that, when you all have been so amazing and so lovely. I have always and will always appreciate the support you guys have given, which was way, way more than I had expected when I started actually publishing these little ideas of mine. My plans as of right now are to finish this fic and then start working on smaller stories while I also work on larger (but doable) ones. I cannot promise a regular update schedule, as I no longer have chapters pre-written, but I will try to do better.
Normal disclaimer about not owning Harry Potter and not receiving money for a fanfic (is that a thing?) applies.
Without further ado, here is the long-awaited Chapter 14.

Chapter 14: You Say Planning, I Say Plotting

Harry sat in his room, staring out the window. It was yet again raining, though it was a light drizzle that would only last a day. He had a book of offensive spells laying open on his lap, but he wasn't reading. He was staring out at the street, watching people as they passed by. He felt a bit like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in that moment, so much so that he began to hum 'Out There'. The weather and his listless activity allowed his thoughts to drift and settle.

After those revelations, he and Draco had backed off of serious subjects. They both needed to assimilate to their new view of each other, or rather their reinforced view. They had chatted about this and that for a while, then parted easily. Draco had mentioned writing to his mother, which was allowed due to their being family, although the guard at Azkaban would read the letter before handing it over. Whether Draco had any plans to talk to his father he hadn't said, and Harry was not curious or cruel enough to ask. He wouldn't blame Draco if he never spoke to Lucius again.

Prompted from their discussion, Harry wondered what Draco's childhood had been like. He imagined, as he had upon meeting Draco for the first time, that it was similar to Dudley's. Although many would (and had) envied Draco his privileged life, Harry had seen first-hand how destructive it could be. Dudley had been a right prat his entire life, thanks to the encouraged belief that he was better than everyone. It took an attack from a Dementor for him to become a decent human being. He believed Draco had been told something similar growing up, although he surmised that there would be pureblood ideation behind it rather than simple prejudice. Harry was sure that although his experience with the Dursleys gave him more insight than most, he did not truly understand the hardships Draco had faced. He wasn't sure, even if Draco explained everything in minute detail, that he ever would.

His thoughts wandered to Draco's assessment of his choices and the power therein, of the situation he currently found himself in in regards to Lippershey. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, noting the time before resuming his people watching. It was almost ten o' clock. He had an hour to figure out what to do. He supposed it came down simply to two questions: was going worth the risk of potentially putting everyone in danger, not mention going against the new Minister? Although he hadn't analyzed that part yet, he knew he should. Dingleberry didn't seem the type to take this king of slight lightly. Also, Arthur's warning from what seemed to be a lifetime ago still held true. Harry had bested the Ministry, had made a fool of them both in Voldemort's return and his defeat. Even at the party it had been evident, though he had been too busy focusing on Draco to truly note it at the time. How many eyes had followed him in anger, in jealousy, in cold-hearted malice? How many times in the past had he met an Auror, only to have that person spew insults at him? It was far from the majority, but Harry was not a naive fool anymore. Whether their opinions mattered to him personally, which they sometimes did, they mattered to his safety. An Auror who sought revenge for being upstaged by a mere boy could be just as deadly as a Death Eater. And it wasn't only the Aurors, although they were the ones Harry saw most often. In every branch of the Ministry there were those who would whisper about him, and although it was a rare occurrence of juvenile behavior, it still affected Harry to still be the target of such negative emotion. He could only imagine how difficult life would be if the Minister decided to go against him, and his life would be an absolute nightmare if he did so publicly.

The second question was whether he, as a man with morals and responsibilities, could afford not to go. Like it or not, he was in a position of power. Until the legend died down to obscurity, something which might not happen in his lifetime, he always would have power of some kind. Although it unnerved and displeased him, he needed to be realistic and put others first. This information, whatever it was, was important enough that Dingleberry didn't want him to have it. At least, that was Harry's interpretation. It was equally likely that Lippershey was crazy and Dingleberry was protecting him, but Harry's (in)famous gut feeling said the information, whatever it was, was legitimate, and that Dingleberry's motivation was primarily fear. Under this assumption, could Harry, in good conscience, refuse? Could he stand idly by while a threat may be lurking in their midst?

No. No, he could not. He realized, with a heavy sigh, that this was never truly in question. He would always have gone, if only because his conscience wouldn't let him do otherwise. He had simply not wanted to. He had wanted to stay in this house, with Draco, and live as close to a peaceful life as he could manage. The very thought was like a siren's song, and Harry groaned out loud as he realized that peace and home were only part of the equation. The draw, the enticement, was Draco. And wasn't that a scary thought?

Harry reluctantly got up. He shoved thoughts of how enticing Draco was away. He needed Draco's opinion, his advice on how to proceed. Harry, as Draco had so helpfully pointed out, was no strategist. Harry was a Point, a front-runner. He sped ahead and achieved the goal, and left the planning and plotting to others. He realized now how near-sighted that was, and how trusting. He would need to start being able to make truly well-thought decisions. Power in the hands of a fool was like playing Russian roulette. Sooner or later, someone would get hurt, and there was no telling who it would be. And although he couldn't imagine saying it even a few months before, he could think of no one better to learn from than his own personal jailbird.

He made his way to Draco's door, but as he raised his fist to knock he felt an unexpected hesitation. He was reluctant to knock, and he couldn't figure out why. He knew he looked like an idiot, standing outside the door, fist raised but not knocking. He just...couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't until he felt a familiar twist in his stomach that the truth dawned on him.

Surely, I'm not...nervous? What nonsense!

But his body told the tale, refusing to budge despite having no reason not to. He was about to go back to his room and seriously question his sanity when the door opened. Draco and he stared at each other several moments, neither knowing what to say. Finally Draco broke the string contest, pointedly looking at Harry's raised hand with an inquiring brow raised. Harry quickly lowered his hand to his side, flushing with embarrassment.

“Hi.” Harry said, his voice high. He cleared his throat. “I was, um...coming to see you.”

Draco visibly regained his equilibrium, leaning against the door frame with a smirk. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Harry said. He refused to acknowledge Draco's interpretation, or how it made him feel. “I need your advice.”

Draco's smirked intensified. “A lot of lube, start small, and take your time.”

Harry had thought he knew where this conversation was going, but now he had no idea. “Um...what?”

Draco's seductive pose broke as he seemed surprised by something. “Do you really...? How could you not...?” He did something Harry had never seen cool, calm, composed Draco do before. He facepalmed. “Oh, Merlin. We really will need to take this slow.”

Harry flushed. “There is no this. This is not a thing.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Sure. What did you actually want to ask about?”

“Lippershey.” Harry said. “I've decided that I'm going to go, but I don't want to do it half-cocked. If I'm going to do this, whatever this is, I want to do it right. No more martyring.”

Draco said nothing for several moments. His gaze went over Harry, assessing. This time, however, Harry did not feel as though Draco were undressing him with his eyes. Instead, Draco seemed to be looking at him, right through to his soul. He nodded softly, obviously approving of what he saw. He seemed very thoughtful as well.

“I see.” Draco said. He stepped back into his own room. Harry followed, shutting the door behind him out of habit. Draco went to sit at his desk, and Harry sat nearby on the bed. If he had sat a little closer, their knees would have been touching. He shifted unconsciously at the thought, but focused as Draco began to speak.

“Well, more than anything you should be prepared for Lippershey to ambush you. As a Ministry ex-employee, he is going to have resources regardless of which department he was from. Obviously, you'll take your wand with you everywhere, but the Antidote to Common Poisons and a Blood Replenishing Potion would not go amiss. Since we don't know which department he was part of, you might also take the Antidote to Uncommon Poisons as well.”

Draco stopped and looked at Harry to get his input. Harry's response was to blink.

“Um, I suppose I could pick some up before I go.”

“Before we go,” Draco corrected. “Which brings me to my next point. Safety in numbers. He clearly expects you to come alone, so that is absolutely the last thing you should do.”

Harry nodded. “Makes sense. But what if he insists on talking to only me?”

Draco shrugged. “You have the advantage, use it. Whatever he wants to tell you, it was important enough to reach out to you personally, and to risk being detected by the Ministry. He clearly wants, maybe needs, to tell you whatever it is.”

“So I can make him tell both of us by threatening not to listen.” Harry surmised.

Draco's eyes gleamed. He was glad that Harry was already showing promise as a strategist. He hastily reminded himself that it was early days yet, plenty of time for Harry's Gryffindor nature to come back to bite him. “Exactly.”

Harry grinned at Draco's expression, but became confused when Draco walked over to his dresser and began rooting around in it. He laughed as a familiar pentagon came flying towards his head. Draco smiled in response as he retook his seat.

“Cheers.” He said before biting the head off the Chocolate Frog.

Draco grimaced. “You're barbaric.”

Harry shrugged. “Kids always bite the heads off animal crackers before eating the body.”

“Charming.” Draco deadpanned. “The last thing I'll mention, since home field advantage won't be possible, is secrecy. The Minister sticking his nose in this is not good news, even if he is a nitwit. You don't become Minister by being a good little choir boy. Unless, of course, you half-murder a serial killer when you're a baby.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't comment, much to Draco's disappointment. He continued, “That means that, despite his questionable intelligence and abysmal fashion sense, he has to have some sort of ability to play the game. Whether that's greasing the right hands, stabbing the right people in the back, or otherwise unsavory method remains to be seen. You have to play into the role he assigns you. He showed his hand at the party, though I doubt he realizes it. He wants you to be the political equivalent of a trophy wife. A thoughtless, brainless celebrity whose name and fame he can play on. As such, he won't want to believe that you two are on different sides of anything. He's going to give you an out. Take it. You'll probably have to suffer some embarrassment, but you must do so. Better a little humiliation now than a lot of pain later.”

Harry shook his head, amazed at how quickly things had gotten complicated. “Okay. Um, I think I can do that. Maybe.”

Draco smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry, I'll be with you. But just in case I can't be, I'll train you on what to do.” He reached out hesitantly, pausing before putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. He looked him in the eyes to ensure Harry knew what he was about to say, he meant. “I think you're selling yourself short. You can be brilliant, in your own way. You've just never had to try before, because you had others to fall back on. Ron, who could strategize for you if need be and who encouraged you to let things lie. More than that, though, I think you let Hermione be the brains and never stopped to think that you could use your own instead.”

Harry was embarrassed at having been caught out about his lackluster efforts. “I know, I thought of that not long after the final battle. Hindsight and all that.”

Draco nodded, then patted his shoulder before taking his hand back. Harry almost reached up, his skin feeling cool now that Draco's warmth had been rescinded. Luckily, he caught himself.

“So,” Harry said, standing. “Shall we go to Slug and Jiggers?”

Draco stood as well, smoothing out the folds in his clothing. “I suppose. It's probably about time to leave.”

Harry looked at his watch. “Actually, it's only just past ten. So if there's something you need to take care of, I can wait.”

Harry looked up and froze. Draco's expression had changed drastically, going from easy acceptance to predatory. He gulped without meaning to, and the feline grin on Draco's face only widened in response.

“There is something that has been nagging at me for a while, now that you mention it.” Draco said. He moved toward Harry, who took a step backward. He had forgotten that he had been standing just to the side of the bed, and the backs of his legs immediately hit it. Had he not had such good balance, he would've plopped backwards onto it. Draco, however, did not stop. He stepped forward again, his foot between Harry's. He leaned forward so that their torsos met, then their hips, then their legs. They were pressed together, calf to collarbone. Harry tried to remain standing, but Draco kept leaning forward, bending him backwards. He finally landed back on the bed, but had no time to recover before Draco was there, above him. He was leaning on his elbows, which were on either side of Harry's head. Although he expected Draco to swoop in and steal a kiss, he was surprised as Draco did nothing. Actually, that wasn't strictly true. Draco was looking down at him, his eyes roving his face. It honestly made Harry uncomfortable, and he fought not to squirm. It felt different than the other times Draco had looked at him, really looked at him. This time, as Draco looked at his features as though he meant to memorize them, Harry felt...treasured.

After several moments of this, Harry couldn't take it anymore. Gathering his courage, he leaned up and connected their mouths. His inexperience and the unusual height difference made it a bit awkward at first, but it was worth it to see Draco's eyes go wide. Soon though, they closed, and Harry's did the same as they both sank into the kiss. It started as just the lips, Draco seeming to understand that Harry wanted to take his time. That first initial movement had been rougher than he'd intended, and he'd softened it considerably. There was hardly any movement between them, just lips moving against each other and each man getting acquainted. Although Harry hadn't realized it yet, he was tuning in to Draco's preferences. What he liked, what he responded to, what made him break that cool reserve. Not that Draco was stoic, but Harry was a man of fire and passion, and he was determined to draw out a response.

Harry got lost in kissing Draco, but not so much that he didn't realize that he needed more. He opened his lips, and just the tip of his tongue poked out. Draco ceased moving as he felt Harry's tongue touch his lips, not wanting to scare him off what was proving to be one of the most intense moments he'd ever experienced on a bed. He briefly thought that if Harry could undo him with just a few butterfly kisses, he might not survive the sex. Though he'd be damned if he wouldn't try.

Harry's tongue moved forward, pressing against Draco's closed lips. Draco opened to let it in, eagerly wanting that tongue within his mouth, but Harry surprised him by licking at his bottom lip instead. It felt more erotic than it should, and left a wet sheen on his lip. Harry licked again, and Draco closed his eyes and breathed a sigh as Harry's teeth gently latched on. He'd always had sensitive lips, though few of his lovers had taken the time to notice. None of them had explored like Harry did. They, like he, had been chasing orgasms and thinking of foreplay as a means to an end. Never had he so enjoyed simply being with a person. The orgasms he and Harry shared had been amazing, but this slow, deep exploration of mouths was sending him to the moon.

Harry, also, was being affected. He and Ginny hadn't gotten very far, so to Harry it was almost like the first time. He probed deeper with his tongue, finally entering Draco's mouth. The taste was intoxicating, spicy and fresh, cool and refreshing with a hint of a spark. Harry began to kiss Draco more earnestly, wanting to absorb the other man. He plunged his tongue, wanting to saturate himself in every inch of that mouth. Although Draco had let him take the lead at first, he had quickly begun to reciprocate, and soon the two were imitating with their tongues and mouths what they wanted to do with their bodies.

Draco felt the flames of desire burning brighter, and allowed himself to sink down onto Harry. A broken moan was shared between their mouths, but who made it neither could say. Draco's hips moved gently but insistently between Harry's legs, brushing their lengths gently against one another through their clothes. Harry's hands reached up to his back, fists bunching in the cloth of his shirt. Although it was not possible, Harry seemed to want them to be even closer. Draco groaned at the thought, and his hips jerked a little.

Harry gasped, feeling like all the heat of a volcano was centered between his legs. One of his hands let go of Draco's shirt and reached up into his hair. He hardly realized he was doing it, his body dictating his movements on its own. He was not complaining, rather the opposite. Still, he parted his and Draco's mouths, which made a wet sound that was distinctly sexual in nature.

“Can we just...” Harry started, but moaned as Draco's hips continued to move against him. Had he been drunk at that moment, he couldn't swear he wouldn't spread his legs and let Draco take him. Even sober, the thought was appealing. However, he could feel that there was a pace to be set here and he needed to be the one to do it.

“What?” Draco asked, his voice low and breathless from excitement. “What do want, baby? What do you need?”

The endearment and the sentiment lit Harry's insides. It was both sweet and sensual, and it hit Harry's system like crack. He realized, with a bit of unease, that he could quite easily become addicted to Draco Malfoy. “Just...I don't want to go too fast.”

Draco chuckled, a sound full of wicked intent. “Harry, I've made you cum twice. In your pants, but still. Don't you think we're past the kissing stage?”

But Harry shook his head, which caused Draco to take him more seriously. “No, it wasn't like this. This is...different.”

For a moment, each man was lost in how true that statement was. They each privately acknowledged that this, whatever this was, was not like anything either had experienced before. No sex Draco had had, neither relationsip Harry had been in, could compare. This was something else.

“You're right.” Draco said. “I know, I know I need to go slow. You're a virgin, you have almost no experience, but I just can't...” He rolled his hips down with a groan, which Harry answered with his own and a twist that was almost enough to make Draco lose himself again. It took several deep breaths before he could regain his train of thought. “You just...you drive me crazy. I see you, looking at me like that, and I just want to mess you up in the worst way.”

Harry's pupils dilated, and he licked his lips. Draco sank down and plunged his tongue into Harrry's mouth, but this time a little rougher. He wanted to show Harry how he affected him, so he let his grip on himself slip the tiniest bit and plundered Harry's mouth like he was in a desert and Harry was an oasis. As Harry eagerly responded, albeit clumsily, Draco realized that Harry was not opposed to making out with him. He lifted his hips a bit, keeping their groins out of contact, and put even more into the kiss. He was rewarded as Harry's hands resumed their grasping, pulling his torso down. Draco let Harry take control, easing back a bit in order to see how Harry dealt with taking the reigns. He was surprised and insanely aroused to find that Harry was not dominant, at least not normally. Passionate, yes, but Draco could tell by the way that Harry's hands pulled at him, and by the way his tongue sought out Draco's own, that he wanted Draco to take control back. So Draco obliged, moving his arms so that he could hold Harry's head in place while he went at Harry's mouth like he wanted to devour it. His cock throbbed, wanting to simply grind and spend itself, but Draco ignored it. Harry was what was important. Harry was different.

Harry couldn't believe how amazing this felt compared to his past experiences. He felt as if he was adrift in a sea of arousal, excitement, and satisfaction. He felt as though the entire world had shrank into this room, and only he and Draco remained. He couldn't control himself, his hands grasping like a baby's as he held Draco to him, needing him closer and closer until there was no telling where Draco ended and Harry began. He felt the white-hot flame of desire burning in his gut, felt it running urgently through his cock, which twitched and throbbed in his pants. He almost wished he hadn't stopped Draco from frotting with him, but he knew he wanted to take this slow. He wanted to draw out every moment, every sensation, and savor it like a fine wine.

Draco backed off again and Harry, thinking it was like before when Draco had suddenly gone softer and less insistent, used his leverage to bring Draco back and hold him there. He felt as well as heard Draco's groan as it traveled through his chest, which Harry had pressed to his. He wanted Draco to moan, to beg, to scream in ecstasy. He wanted to watch as Draco lost every ounce of that cool composure and reveled in the pleasure Harry was giving him. He wanted to undo Draco, and watch him unravel beneath his hands.

“Merlin, Harry, stop.” Draco said. Harry reluctantly let him go, and Draco stood up and turned away from him. Harry felt cold, and bereft.

“Draco?” Harry said, uncertainty replacing wanton confidence. “Is there...did I do something wrong?”

Draco barked a laugh and wiped his face with his hands. “No, no. Merlin, Harry, if you'd been any more right I would've lost my damn mind.”

Harry grinned, clearly remembering wanting just that. “And that's a bad thing?”

Draco looked over his shoulder at him before turning around, his erection pointing at Harry like a compass pointing to erotic promise. “No, but I don't think you're ready to go much further and I don't think I could resist pushing you further if we kept at it.”

“Oh.” Harry said, trying not to look at Draco's cock but not being able to look away either. “Do you want, er, help?”

Draco groaned again, his eyes falling shut again. He actually reached down and grabbed himself, as if he simply couldn't resist. “Merlin, Harry, don't say things like that unless you're willing to follow through.”

Harry blushed. “Sorry.” He muttered, feeling like the worst kind of tease.

Draco noticed, and came over to cup his chin and press a light kiss on his lips, to reassure rather than arouse. “No worries, love. Take it as a compliment, because I promise that's how I meant it.”

Harry nodded, his eyes fixated on Draco's lips. He leaned in, fully prepared to do it all over again, but Draco stepped back. Harry looked a bit bewildered, as if he couldn't remember why they weren't on the bed together anymore.

“You need to go. Get dressed, fix your hair as best you're able, and make yourself like nice.”

Harry nodded dumbly, not hearing what Draco had said but responding to the tone. He got up, and his own erection was making quite the salute. Harry saw Draco swallow hard as he stared at it as if looking at his favorite treat.

“Go to your room, Harry.” Draco said hoarsely.

Harry turned to do so, but stopped. If he stayed, he could probably convince Draco to get back to bed. Did he want that, though, truly? Was he ready? He didn't think so, but his body was so turned on he couldn't think straight enough to truly tell one way or the other.

Arms came around his waist and he felt Draco press into him from behind. A very distinctive bulge pressed against the small of his back, and Harry instinctively arched into it in order to get it lower. Draco growled in response and nipped his ear, but obliged and moved his hips lower. He drew his cock up and down Harry's ass crack, and had they not been fully clothed the pre-cum Draco spurted from the contact would've painted Harry's skin.

“Go,” Draco whispered into his ear, nibbling at Harry's lobe. Harry felt that that was a hot spot for him, and his knees went a little shaky. “While I can still let you.”

Again, Harry had to seriously consider it. Regardless of his questionable sexuality, the pleasure he received from Draco was making him want to simply hand his body over and let Draco have his way with him. This was reinforced as Draco ground his cock against him again, and Harry whimpered as he felt his crack part a little at the pressure.

Draco pushed him forward, gently but insistently. Harry took the hint, and didn't dare to look back as he left the room. He went into his own and immediately dropped his trousers and fisted his cock. It took an embarrassingly few strokes before he came, crying out Draco's name as he collapsed onto the floor.

Draco had done much the same, reach into his pants to grasp his erection before he'd even taken his pants down. It had taken an extraordinary amount of willpower to send Harry to his own room, and not fling him onto the bed and take that which seemed, if only for a moment, to be on offer. Draco's fist was a blur as he re-imagined the past few moments to include him taking Harry standing up, then moving them to the bed so he could really pound into his ass. He heard Harry shout his name in what was unmistakably climax, and hearing the sound that would haunt his dreams for many nights to come sent him over the edge as well. He almost passed out from the pleasure, and stumbled backward till he fell on the bed. It took several minutes for his breathing and heart to lower from alarming rates and for him to have enough brain power to wipe off his hand, let alone clean up and get changed. He noted, with chagrin, that just the those kisses and the thought of more with Harry had been enough to bring him to the most powerful orgasm he'd had to date.

“Bloody hell.” Draco breathed. “What am I going to do with you, Harry Potter?”
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Harry Potter and the Prince of Ice