Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Under the Manor	By : WillGirl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13318 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I make no claims to Harry Potter, either books or movies, and all rights belong to JKR. No money or other recompense is being made from this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
DELETED SCENE: I don’t really think this part makes sense with the character progression. I don’t think it would happen. That’s why it’s not actually in the story. But this website is all about fulfilling fantasies, isn’t it? And not necessarily just the ones that are plausible. So since it occurred to me that some people might not be satisfied with the denouement (especially after waiting for it for so long) if it didn’t contain a rather particular sort of climax, if you know what I mean, I wrote up this little side bit. It’s not really in the story...but if you want, in your head, it can be. Enjoy.

Harry leaned in, very slowly, so that Draco could stop him if he wanted to. The other man made no move to move at all; just lay there impassively until Harry kissed him. The passivity lasted just long enough for Harry to begin to worry that he had misjudged everything, but then Draco responded, just a little: he arched his head up into the kiss, and then his lips parted, and Harry plunged in for one last taste of that burning Malfoy ice.

“I want to say goodbye,” Harry whispered. “So we can both, finally, be done.”

Draco chewed his lip, and would not meet Harry’s eye, and Harry waited patiently, not saying anything else. Then the pale head nodded with a sharp jerk, and cool hands placed themselves on either side of Harry’s face and drew him down again.

Harry sank into the kiss and eventually found his hands, seemingly of their own volition, fumbling at the bedcovers. Draco sat up so that he could draw them back, and Harry slipped onto the bed on top of him. He straddled the thinner man, his knees splayed to either side of Draco’s waist, and snogged him until they neither one could breathe.

Draco pressed him back, Harry rising only reluctantly. If this was Malfoy’s idea of a sick joke, letting Harry make a fool out of himself by getting all aroused, and then calling the whole thing off...

“The door,” Draco rasped. “You should probably lock it.”

“Oh,” said Harry, “right.” He felt his face turn very, very red.

“Although I doubt anyone will come in while you’re here,” Draco murmured, while Harry fumbled frantically for his wand. “They’d worry about interrupting you while you were torturing me for information, or something,” Draco continued with a smirk. “And then they’d have to decide whether to get the Great Harry Potter in trouble for overstepping the bounds of his duty, or just keep mum...”

Harry rolled his eyes, and sealed the door, and shoved his wand back into the pocket of his coat. He pulled the privacy curtains around the immobile, insensate patient in the far bed, just for propriety’s sake, and then cast a quick Muffliato over their corner of the room. Then Harry shucked his coat, dropping it heedlessly over the side of the bed, and shut Draco up with another kiss. “Shut-up,” he told him afterward. Malfoy just chuckled and helped Harry with the rest of his clothes.

Draco was very pale and tired, and he moved slowly, and seemed content to let Harry do most of the work, but he showed enough interest to tug at a few buttons and pull at a few folds. That was interest enough to convince Harry that the convalescing man had the energy for this, so long as Harry took care not to tax him overly.

Harry had realized that as delightful as it was to be helpless, sometimes it was fun to be in charge, too, so he had no problem with that arrangement. He kissed and nipped his way down Malfoy’s pale, scarred chest (trying to ignore the fact that he could probably have counted his ribs), making the other man groan and shiver.

“Potter...” Draco gasped, and Harry slid upwards to capture Draco’s mouth with his own. The other man’s tongue swiped against Harry’s cheeks probingly, hungrily, and Harry gasped into the kiss. Then Malfoy’s icy fingers were tangled hard in Harry’s hair, and his scalp stung because Draco was trembling, the constant tremors running through his limbs pulling at Harry’s roots.

Harry squirmed, pressing himself down on the skinny, scarred form beneath. He shoved starched sheets aside and ran his hands down pale, firm legs, feeling the lithe muscles shiver under his touch. Harry curled his hands around Draco’s disquietingly skinny waist, then slid inwards, his fingers inching between their naked torsos. Draco groaned and rubbed himself against Harry, the contact making Harry’s groin ache impatiently.

Harry slid down lower, leaving a trail of kisses behind him as he moved. Draco gasped when he lost his grasp on Harry, then gasped harder when Harry’s warm, wet mouth encircled the head of his cock. Harry didn’t take the thick shaft into his mouth—didn’t want to risk that much stimulation so fast, when Draco was in this weakened state, and might not have been able to restrain himself through it—but he did lick and suck at the tip, running his tongue through the wet, salty slit and pursing his lips teasingly around the whole.

Draco was too distracted to notice Harry fumbling for his wand, and he yelped with shock when the cool, penetrating lubrication of the spell filled his arse. Harry chuckled around the cock between his lips, making Draco squirm, and tossed his wand in the rough direction of his puddled clothes. He could always find it later, if it rolled off.

Harry slipped a probing finger inside, and Draco’s back arched and his breathless inhalation was nearly a howl. Harry grinned and continued to suck and lick while he curled and thrust with his finger. He raised his eyes from his ministrations to watch Draco as best he could, enjoying the way the other man tossed and thrashed and gasped as Harry slipped in first another finger, and then a third.

Draco was whimpering, his lips pressed so tight against his teeth that they were almost bloodless, and his eyes tightly closed. The sheen of sweat on his forehead was more pronounced, his pale hair curling in his eyes. His fingers had clenched themselves in the pristine sheets, his hands curled into very tense fists that trembled violently. Harry could feel the muscles of Draco’s thighs shiver next to his head, straining and taut and as shaky as the rest of his pale, lithe body.

Harry smiled again, and slowly withdrew both mouth and fingers from their tasks.

He let Draco just lay there a moment, panting. His pale face was flushed, his tantalizing lips half-open and gasping, and his eyelids fluttered ceaselessly, revealing thin slivers of icy grey beneath his thick lashes. He was still tense, everywhere, and shaking in some combination of lust and potions. Harry gave him a minute to get his breath back, knowing that he probably needed it, just now.

Then Draco sat up suddenly, apparently with great effort but still quickly enough to catch Harry completely off-guard, and warm lips were pressed against his own and long fingers tangled in his hair. Harry pressed forward into the kiss, enjoying the icy-fire of Draco Malfoy on his tongue, and then he gasped.

The fingers of Draco’s other hand had dropped, and curled themselves around Harry’s cock. The hand felt very thin and fragile as it stroked the long shaft, and Harry wondered if it was just the unfamiliar lack of heavy rings on Draco’s fingers that made this different from before, or if Draco was actually as tentative and weakened as he felt. Whatever caused that strange sensation of frailty, it did nothing to impact the skill with which Draco brought Harry to full, brimming hardness.

His erection was stiff enough to make Harry gasp with pain, and he growled something insulting in Draco’s ear. The other man just laughed, a weak but still scornful ghost of a chuckle.

Harry placed his hands on Malfoy’s thin, scarred chest, and pushed. It was frighteningly easy to tackle Draco backwards onto the bed, the other man either not bothering to resist—which seemed unlike Draco—or simply incapable of summoning the strength with which to fight him. Harry curled his fingers around Malfoy’s sharply pronounced collarbones like they were handles, and pinned Draco down hard into the pillows. Draco gasped.

Harry bore down on him, licking and nipping and biting until Draco writhed, his long limbs twining helplessly around Harry from where he lay trapped beneath the other’s broader, shorter body. Harry eased backwards, sliding down along Draco’s skinny torso, until their cocks bumped and twitched at each other. Harry shoved low, grinding their desperate erections together, and both men whimpered.

Then Harry kissed Draco’s shoulder—because that was the part nearest his face, and he had to kiss something—and slipped a hand down next to their cocks. He fumbled around the half-familiar anatomy, but finally had to stop and sit up to see what he was doing. Clearly he just hadn’t fucked enough men to be able to line things up by feel.

For some reason that thought made Harry grin, and he had to actually bite his lips to keep from giggling, like a kid caught passing naughty notes in class.

But now that he was looking, it didn’t take Harry long at all to line things up. He guided his stiff, aching cock towards the wet, inviting hole in Malfoy’s arse, moaning aloud at the first brush of contact between the head of his cock and that round ring of muscles he was slowly, so slowly, beginning to breach.

Draco shuddered beneath him, and Harry trembled with restraint, fighting the heavy thudding of his heartbeat that was urging him to just thrust, to drive his way forward, stab right through Malfoy’s skinny body to the mattress beneath, spear him on his Harry’s cock, thrust and dig and stab until he screamed, until he couldn’t move...

Harry took a deep breath, pulled himself back under control, and eased his way inside. He moved in short, shaky jerks, slipping from one tight, clenching ring of muscles to the next. Draco moaned, his whole body arching in response to Harry’s penetration. They gasped together, Draco’s legs curling around Harry, holding him tightly. Sharp, cool fingers bit into Harry’s shoulders, fingers that were strangely thin and almost ethereal without their customary heavy weight of enchanted silver.

Harry had his own hands wrapped around Draco’s thin hips, his fingers dug in hard enough to feel the bones beneath the thin caul of pale, malnourished flesh. Harry knew his own perceptions might be somewhat slanted, due to his excessive exposure to Weasleys raised on a steady diet of Molly’s cooking and constant roughhousing and activity—knew this because he knew that he was not nearly as thin or underfed as Mrs. Weasley was always lamenting him to be—but even he could tell that Draco was far, far too thin for comfort.

“You need to eat better,” he told the trembling man spread wide beneath him.

“Shut-up, mother,” Draco sneered. Sharp teeth nipped at Harry’s ear, making him twitch.

“Wow,” Harry smirked, “I knew you pure-bloods were sketchy and all, but thinking about your mum right now, Malfoy...”

“I’ll murder you in your sleep, Potter,” Draco snapped breathlessly.

Harry laughed. The sound sent really delightful vibrations running through him, all the way down to the tip of his cock, and both he and Draco groaned.

“Just shut-up and fuck me,” Malfoy ordered.

Harry did.

The tight, trembling tunnel of Draco’s arse, clenched tight around Harry’s throbbing cock, pulsed and narrowed, tugging against Harry’s long shaft as he buried it deep, then pulled back only to drive forward again. Draco gasped and shuddered, moving with and against Harry, and his fingers seemed to be everywhere.

Harry dug deep, thrusting as far back as he could, his balls tight against Draco’s ass. Draco keened, his head flung back and the pale arch of his neck gulping with his wordless shriek. Harry moaned and did it again, driving hard and deep, making Draco writhe.

It wasn’t until Harry noticed the tears on Malfoy’s face that he realized his own eyes were weeping, too.

They thrust together, gasping breathlessly, their fingers tight enough to leave bruises on one another’s arms. Harry curled a hand around Draco’s straining cock, making the other man twitch and writhe, and he pumped his fingers in time with the thrusts he was stabbing into Draco’s thin arse. Draco gave a shriek and thrashed suddenly, arching up against Harry. Thick, hot white bliss spilled over Harry’s fingers and slicked his stomach, and Draco’s whole body convulsed beneath Harry. Malfoy’s sharp nails pricked Harry’s shoulders, nearly drawing blood, and his arse clenched suddenly tight and hard around Harry’s erection.

A raw, keening cry burst from Harry’s lips, and he came as well, shoving and pushing hard into Draco’s arse until every last drop was drained.

They collapsed together, Harry limp and sated, and Draco trembling and twitching.

They lay there for a moment, just breathing, just being. Then, eventually, without a word, Harry rolled off of Malfoy with a groan, his slack cock coming free with a wet tug. Draco shivered and pushed pale hair out of his eyes with a hand that shook. Harry rocked off the bed and scrambled around on the floor until he found his wand, lying wedged between his discarded trainers.

Harry cleaned them both up, the cold feeling of the cleaning charm against his hot skin making him shiver. Then with another groan he bent over for his clothes, and for Draco’s. He tossed the other man the pale nightdress that St. Mungo’s assigned their patients, and the silky gray boxers that were all he had been wearing beneath it. Draco sat for a minute, trembling, while Harry slithered into his own pants and trousers. Then, resources marshaled, Malfoy made it to his feet and started struggling his way into the clothes.

Harry’s wordless offer of assistance was shrugged off, but not brusquely, so Harry turned his attention to the bed instead. He treated it to a slightly more complex cleaning charm than he had used for their bodies, and tugged the rumpled sheets back into place. The bed still didn’t look as starched and pristine as it had before Harry had come in, but it was clean, and neat enough that no one should suspect that anything had happened, other than that their patient had perhaps had a bad dream.

Draco sank back onto the bed very heavily, and this time he allowed Harry to help him; he was still shaking, although not as badly as before, when Harry helped guide his legs back onto the bed, and pull the sheets up over him. Draco smiled slightly, his lips thin but not quite drawn, and sank back tiredly into the pillows.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

Harry smoothed pale hair off a paler forehead, and smiled. Draco rolled his eyes but without rancor. “You can shove off now,” he said quietly. “I’m about ready for a nap, I think.”

Harry laced his fingers together with Draco’s and gave the thin, slightly-trembling hand a squeeze.
- 14
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- 16
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Under the Manor