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Sex Magic	By : velvetjules Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 90819 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
******
October came and went, and with it any illusion of warmth or sunshine. The weather turned blisteringly cold and windy, and Harry discovered the private pleasure of Draco wearing a scarf. Something he'd seen before, but he didn't remember ever before having the urge to bury his nose into the loosely-coiled fabric that would smell like him, and press his mouth to the warm skin underneath.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Sex Magic lessons remained much like the one with the stone. Control and transfiguration were the primary focus, with occasional branches into spell amplification. Harry and Draco had more successes than failures, but their results were as varied as the other students' in their intensity and completeness. Professor Mason assured everyone that each set of partners would find weaknesses and strengths within their shared magics, and that the lessons were designed to uncover them.
One lesson in particular had pairs of partners attempting to levitate themselves off of the ground by focusing on their breathing. Harry had silently amused himself with the memory of fairy dust and happy thoughts. The sound of Draco's breathing had been a steady, comforting presence in his mind, much louder than it should have been. He vividly recalled the sensation of dizziness and swirling open air beneath his folded legs as he gripped Draco's hands tighter.
One thing was clear from these lessons: they worked. The two of them were doing magic beyond what they could do alone.
Harry's mind whirled with possibilities of amplified protection charms for the upcoming war, and Draco came to class wearing a smug grin every time the death of a Muggle family was reported in the Prophet. It made Harry scowl and look away every time.
***
Another sleepless night, another night of Harry showing up at the Room of Requirement for a few hours of fruitless waiting. It had taken him three nights to realize that the reason he came here was hope that on the off chance Draco might show up. The last few weeks in Sex Magic had been interesting, sure. Enlightening, certainly. But in the mind of every teenage male enrolled in the class, it'd also been a complete buzzkill in the physical intimacy department.
Also, there was the matter of telling Draco about the manipulation of the Headmaster and Professors Mason and McGonagall. He needed to get Draco alone to do it, and Sex Magic was the only time they'd ever been able to have privacy together. Of course, Harry could always owl him, set up a meeting somewhere, but he preferred to believe that he'd confess once Sex Magic lessons got back around to being held in their booths. After all, that involved telling Draco later rather than sooner, which was much more appealing.
He wondered why Draco hadn't been driven here, as well. The other boy had been acting strangely lately. He hadn't been this open about his prejudice for Muggleborns since fourth year. It was becoming distressing. Harry found himself torn between punching him in the mouth and kissing him until he recanted his evil, Muggle-hating ways and begged for forgiveness. And that was truly distressing.
A sound outside of the booth alerted him to another person entering the room, and Harry immediately leapt to his feet. Drawing the flap at the front of the booth back, Harry stepped out into the dark and quiet of the room beyond, a small, hopeful smile on his face.
Draco stepped out of the shadows, smiling back at him.
"Draco," Harry said, his voice soft and almost tender.
Draco's smile turned nasty, and three more figures emerged from behind him, stepping forward into the light so that Harry could identify their faces. Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini all leered back at him.
"Told you he'd be here," Draco told them smugly.
Harry's jaw and fists clenched, and he fought the desire to surge forward and drive his knuckles into Draco's jaw. The Slytherins laughed maliciously, stepping up to give Draco thumps on the back.
"Congratulations, Malfoy," Blaise Zabini drawled. "You've tamed the Boy Who Lived."
Harry hexed him hard enough to leave him drooling for the next few hours.
"Not quite," he told them coldly, and stalked out of the room with rigid shoulders and wounded pride.
***
The next day's Sex Magic lesson was another exercise in control, which Harry found himself immensely lacking. He sat facing Draco, palms pressed together and fingers laced as they attempted to create a Silencing spell around them without their wands. Harry glared coldly across at Draco, his concentration nonexistent. He waited with the sixth sense that students have for the presence of Mason at his back to fade away before opening his mouth.
"You bastard," he seethed.
The corner of Draco's right eye flickered in a minute flinch before he smirked. "Still smarting, Potty?"
Harry crushed Draco's fingers beneath his, satisfied when the blond drew in a painful hiss of breath.
"It's not my fault you went and fell in love with me," Draco told him cruelly. "You were acting like an idiot. Someone had to snap you out of it."
Harry growled and lunged forward, using his grip on Draco's hands to push him onto his back. Draco made a surprised grunt when Harry's chest collided with his, and his eyes widened until they filled all of Harry's vision. Pressing his nose against the Slytherin's cheek, Harry leaned in until his mouth hovered an inch above the other boy's ear.
"Sooner or later, Malfoy, we're going to be back in that booth," he promised in a whisper made husky with repressed emotion. "And when that happens, I'm going to make you pay for last night."
Draco's body rippled with a little shudder where it was pressed against Harry. He took a deep breath and let it out in a laugh that wasn't nearly as confident as he probably would have liked.
"You wish, Potter," he said weakly.
Harry leaned back until he could see Draco's face, and grinned. He watched Draco's throat as he swallowed and had the sudden urge to lean forward and clamp his teeth over it.
He became aware of shouting, and felt a concussion like a pillow hitting him with great force against his left side. He rolled off of Draco and looked up to see Professor Mason waving her hand in front of her as though in pain. She met his eyes through what appeared to be a bubble of static electricity surrounding he and Draco, her expression one of slightly fearful awe.
Stretching out one hand, Harry's fingers brushed something solid. Blue tendrils snaked around his fingertips, and he traced the lines of crackling energy curiously. The barrier thrummed against his skin, and he had the absurd thought that he was looking at the physical manifestation of pure sexual frustration.
***
"Today, you will be working in your booths," Rosemary Mason announced on a blustery November Friday afternoon. "Next week you will be incorporating further methods of lovemaking into your studies, but for today you will pick up where you left off."
Harry's grin was nearly feral, and he was instantly on his feet and making for he and Draco's booth in the corner of the room. Upon reaching it, he drew back the flap and waiting for Draco to pass by him. When after several moments he remained alone, he turned and looked over his shoulder. Draco stood where he'd left him, staring back at him with a blank look on his face. Harry suspected that Draco thought he looked indifferent, but he would be wrong. Draco, like his father, could not keep emotion from showing in his eyes. And right now, they reflected fear.
Harry almost felt sorry for him, but then he remembered Zabini's mocking laughter and held the door flap open wider. Draco shook himself, squared his shoulders and stalked forward purposefully. He passed Harry without a flicker of hesitation, and into the darkness of the tent beyond. Harry followed, and let the door flap close behind him. When his eyes adjusted, he wasn't surprised by what he saw. He'd already had the destination in mind.
The musty smell of old wood and dust irritated his nose and the array of pickled and fermented things that lined the walls reflected the low light of a single, dust-caked lamp. Draco turned in the narrow aisle to face Harry, his expression confused and slightly anxious.
"This is one of your favorite fantasies, isn't it?" Harry asked him as he walked forward. "Fooling around in Snape's storeroom?"
"You did this for me?" Draco asked skeptically.
"No," Harry told him, and stopped directly in front of him. "For me."
With that he shoved Draco back into low wall of shelving. It rattled precariously, the jars tinkling as their contents sloshed around.
Harry stepped up to him and took his chin in hand, slamming their mouths together hard enough to hurt. He violated Draco's mouth, determined on the most passionately hard snogging Draco had ever had. He wondered for a moment that he shouldn't be doing this; that he should be telling Draco about Dumbledore and the others now that he finally had him alone. But Draco was breathing hard, breaths puffing against Harry's cheek, and he pushed those thoughts aside.
Snaking a hand up into Draco's hair, Harry tugged hard, and Draco made a noise of startled pain. The long curve of his throat lay exposed and Harry devoured it, sucking on his Adam's apple and nipping at his pulse.
Unable to slow down, Harry shoved a hand down between them and fondled Draco's cock through his pants. He'd meant to draw this out, but the noises Draco was making were hell on Harry's month-long celibacy, and that wish was short-lived. But he did intend on taking some measure of Draco's control away from him. Teach him a lesson about playing games. Glancing at a jar on the top shelf, Harry was struck by a sudden inspiration.
Leathery, shrivelled tentacles slithered out from the murky liquid of the jar. Harry tracked their progress as they crept down the lines of shelves before hovering over Draco's shoulders. Keeping Draco distracted with his hand on his cock, Harry brought one of Draco's hands up above his head and pinned it to the shelf there. The tentacles were quick to respond to Harry's will, and one wrapped itself tightly above Draco's wrist in the space of a blink. The other shot out and snatched the other hand from where it had laid on Harry's shoulder. Draco yelped, his eyes flying wide as his arms were hauled above his head.
"What the hell?" he demanded, looking above him at the wrinkled remains of some aquatic creature wrapped around his wrists.
"I believe there was talk of someone being 'tamed?' What better way than with restraints?" Harry asked, unbuttoning Draco's shirt as he spoke.
***
"Fuck you!" Draco howled.
He tugged at the tentacles that held him, but their grip proved strong for something that was likely centuries-dead. Potter's smug chuckle galled him, and he seemed to remember something about turning the tables. He quailed at the thought, remembering Blaise's attempt to deface him in public. But the Slytherin gossipline didn't extend here, behind closed doors. He could do whatever he liked here, and no one but he and Potter would know.
Draco relaxed, letting his hands go slack in his bonds and tilted his hips forward. Harry moaned low in his throat and dipped his head, laving Draco's collarbone with his tongue. Once they were done with his shirt, Harry's fingers continued their work on his buttons, dropping to the fly of his trousers and working them open. Draco gave a little moan of encouragement and pressed himself into Harry's hands. The darker boy jerked his head up, a look of stunned pleasure on his face at Draco's cooperation. Draco smiled and then leaned in for a kiss, watching Harry's eyes drift shut on a quiet groan.
Harry kissed him like a drowning man coming up for air. His hand was motionless in Draco's pants, what he'd been doing forgotten in the midst of their kiss. He was lost in him. There was power in this, Draco thought. He could make Harry do what he wanted by pretending to go along with him. By submitting.
Then Harry seemed to remember what he was supposed to be doing with his hands, and unbuttoned his own trousers, drawing out his cock and pressing it against Draco's. He wrapped one hand around both of them and stroked. Draco's breath hitched as sensation shuddered through him. He couldn't help the small spasm of his muscles that caused him to jerk on every upstroke, when Potter's fingers would glide over the moist head of his cock.
"Like that?" Harry asked, his voice just an octave too deep to be anything but sensual, and it made Draco's toes curl.
Harry brought the palm of his other hand up and rubbed it in small circles across the heads of their cocks. Draco rose up on his toes, whimpers escaping him on every exhale. He was dangerously close to begging Potter to stop, hurry up, do it harder, anything. But Potter kept up the maddening massage, even though it was clearly driving him insane too. He drew it out, watching Draco through half-closed lids as he bucked and gnawed at his lip, screwing his face up in contorted expressions as it all became too much. His muscles trembled like a fly-bitten horse, and he felt wetness on his cheeks.
"God, Potter, stop!" he ordered hoarsely.
Mercifully, he did, and gripped their shafts tighter, bringing them off together in a few well-timed strokes.
Every muscle in Draco's body felt languid. His mind felt heady and drunk, and when Harry allowed the tentacles holding his wrists to release, his arms dropped like lead weights onto the other boy's sweaty shoulders. He allowed Harry to take his weight, to ease them down onto the floor and position Draco's exhausted limbs more comfortably. His breathing slowed and he felt his heart beating fast and strong beneath his breastbone. He felt Potter's thumping against his shoulder. Harry dropped a lazy kiss onto his neck, and he realized that he'd missed this.
God help him, Potter held power over him, too. And there was nothing he could do about it.

*******
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Sex Magic