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The Death Eater	By : Alania Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 20028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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
- 17
- 18
Draco sat quietly at the table, eating as politely and unobtrusively as he could. He had filled his plate once, during the initial rush, and would not re-fill it. He had not spoken since he had sat down, and would likely not speak again until he had left. He cut each section of food precisely into small, bite size pieces, would accept them carefully into his mouth and would chew slowly and silently. He did not eat anything wet, or anything that crackled or left crumbs, like the toast. Once he had finished, his plate and seat would be cleaned, and he would slip out in a busy moment. By the time he left the room, the other people in it would have forgotten he was there. He would return then to the small, dirty bedroom he had been given, and he would either read through his texts and do his homework for the lessons he could not return to, or he would read one of his books. Or, as was becoming more frequent of late, he would sit by the window with the door open a crack, watching as the others moved in the courtyard and garden, or listened to them in the Hall.

He had been here for two weeks now, three weeks since his husband had consummated their wedding vows, stripped him of his virginity and walked away from him. Three weeks since Severus had agreed to try to help.

His help was this. The safe-house was intact, but he could not return to it without having the location of the Headquarters stripped from his memory. He could not, in fact, leave the Headquarters without suffering the same fate. He had been left in silence for almost a week, before Severus had arrived, told him he had an hour to pack and the brought him here, where he had been shown to this room and locked in. They released him for meals and twice-daily toilet breaks, but that was all for the first three days, before some kind of agreement was reached between “them” – the Order contingent most in residence who could and would make the decisions, and the people on Draco’s side. Namely Severus and Harry, although Harry was reluctant to say anything either way. Draco was given the freedom of leaving his room, but he was rendered magically incapable of leaving, unless he was willing to never return. He was also forced to agree never to enter a room if the door was closed, while the others were forced to agree not to arbitrarily shut every door in the building.

So for the last week and a half, this was Draco’s existence. He left his room early in the morning, ate what little he could stomach at breakfast as unobtrusively as possible, and returned to his room. He was forced to make an appearance at dinner, where one of the Professors would arrive to make sure he was alive and to collect and distribute his and Harry’s work. After the evening meal he would go to the library, then more often than not turn around at the closed door and return to his room. Sometimes, if he left dinner early enough, he could get into the library long enough to collect books to take to his room. Unfortunately this meant he had to suffer the indignity of “spot checks”, where one of the Members in residence would toss his room looking for “unsuitable” books.

He and Harry were taking all of their NEWT courses by correspondence. This meant Charms, Transfigurations, Potions, Defence and Dark Arts (a special arrangement of the course set up for them by Dumbledore, wherein Draco was quizzed about his knowledge of the Dark Arts, and Harry was taught about it) and Astrology for both of them. Draco was also taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Numerology and Herbology and Earth Magic; while Harry was taking Care of Magical Creatures, Divination and Elemental Magic. Despite taking five of their eight classes together, their practical work was done separately, and they were forbidden from being together while doing their written work in case of cheating. Even when Severus came on Saturday, as he would continue to do for the duration of their learning so they could make that week’s potion under his supervision, they had to do so separately, ostensibly because Harry was learning different potions that wouldn’t affect the pregnancy. Draco often spent several hours each night in the Astronomy Room (a pre-existing room that had been cleared especially for this purpose) in the hopes that Harry would also be there. However the few times Harry had gone, Draco had arrived to find the door closed. As for Harry’s bedroom, the door was always closed there. It was also two floors beneath Draco’s on the lowest of the bedroom floors, and the staircase leading down from his bedroom (the only one on this floor) creaked with increasing loudness depending on how far away the nearest two people were, making it impossible for him to go to where Harry was without someone already watching him. It was made even more obvious by the fact that the people who lived on the floors above his (most everyone except Harry, Cousin Sirius and the immediate family, who resided on the first two floors), did not make so much as a squeak on the stairs.

He was reasonably certain that these measures were not taken at Harry’s request, but never-the-less, Draco’s stay here had been remarkably unpleasant, and astonishingly Harry-free. As well as the two boys, there were also in residence Cousin Sirius (and Lupin and Severus at times), Cousin Tonks (he wasn’t certain if it was an attempt to get away from her mother, or an attempt to seduce one of the men in the house. Either option seemed doomed to failure) any one of the Weasley brood, most especially the eldest two sons, two other Auror-types and a few people who stopped in for a while here and there to report and rest between assignments. He saw these people during meals and in the halls often. So far he had seen Harry for an extended period twice, both times to administer his magical signature to the baby to help her develop. Harry woke later than him for breakfast, and tended to either eat his dinner after Draco had left, or eat lunch and supper and skip dinner altogether. The few times he had put in an appearance at the dinner table while Draco was still there, Draco had been hustled out, or Harry had been served dinner, along with half of the others, elsewhere.

For all the good being here was doing, Draco may as well have stayed at his safe-house. While he had felt alone there, had wondered and worried about Harry, and their child, he had at least been able to distract himself from his loneliness. Here, if ever he was able to lose himself in his books, something would happen – a tremendous racket from one of the Weasleys, a loud laugh, the soft sounds of lovers hurrying to their beds – and he would be reminded once again that he was inhabiting a house filled with people who were living and loving together, and he was not welcome. He imagined this must be what the Ghosts at Hogwarts felt like, constantly isolated from the other inhabitants of the Castle, feared and ignored in equal measure, and only occasionally given to meet with someone they could interact with. The magical tether to this place was also reminiscent of the way the Ghosts were bound to the Castle, and the gray, endless days that seemed to have become his life sometimes made him reach out and touch something – a book, a wall, never a person – to make sure he hadn’t become as gray and incorporeal.

Of course, then he wanted to hit himself with said object for allowing himself to become so melodramatic and allowing them to get to him. But he didn’t, he wasn’t about to hurt himself for them, for this dreary little place with its dreary little people and its nasty way of sucking the happiness out of a person. And he had been happy, so happy when he’d come here thinking his Harry was making an effort for him, for their marriage. A notion that had been quickly disproved. Harry had done his fighting when he’d fucked him that one, single time and doomed them both to this marriage, now he was content to let these people maneuver his life and push Draco out of it.

At least today Harry couldn’t push him away. For their baby’s sake, at least, because tonight was Draco’s regularly scheduled time to give Harry and the baby some of his magical signature. The last couple of times they had been given ‘company’, a polite euphemism for a guard, but tonight was supposed to be a big meeting so although Harry would be attending the main part of the meeting first, he would be coming to Draco alone. And if he didn’t, Draco was going to stick Severus on someone.

The wait was nearly intolerable, stuck alone in his room as people came in, talking in loud tones and bonding. The silence, afterwards, magically induced and eerie was worse. He tried to read, but when he looked at the book and realised he’d been ignoring the page for at least ten minutes, and couldn’t remember anything he’d read, anyway, he gave up. Sleep was equally forbidden, and as per the agreement he made when he moved in, he could not leave his room. The hours passed slowly. Very slowly.

But, finally, Harry came in. He slipped almost tentatively into the room and smiled weakly at Draco, his hands twisting the ends of his shirt in a nervous tic that suggested he was thinking about what was coming next – about being partially naked under Draco’s touch.

“Hello, Harry.” Draco said, then paused, feeling unaccountably speechless. He suddenly couldn’t think of anything else to say, and jsut watched the other man shift his weight and bite his lower lip. It made Draco want to groan, remembering how many times Harry had done the same and Draco had bitten it himself and sucked the lip into his mouth to soothe it. His upbringing finally asserted itself and he stood away from the bed, motioning Harry to it. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Harry looked at the bed and twitched, an all-over body movement as if he wanted to move forward and run away at the same time. He sighed and quickly, with classic Gryffindor bravery, pulled his shirt off. One hand anxiously palming his ripening belly, he lowered himself to the bed. Draco smiled warmly at him, watching with surprise as Harry seemed to melt with relaxation into the bed. He shut the door over and, at Harry’s continued lassitude, shut it fully, before returning to the bed.

He wondered for a moment how to do this comfortably, rather than the uncomfortable hour he had spent at their last two meetings, sitting away from Harry with one rapidly aching arm stretched out to his abdomen. He eased behind Harry, tucking warmly up along his back. He tried to maintain a distance between them, enough that his body heat would keep Harry warm but not enough that they were actually touching, but when he rested his hand on Harry’s abdomen to begin feeding their child his magical signature, Harry moaned and rolled just a little so his body was pressing into Draco’s. Draco moaned softly himself at the feeling of his husband on him, and tightened his arm just a little. His hand began a slow, gentle rub that the books he had devoured had said Harry would like, and adjusted his position just a little to support Harry better. Then he settled in, and for the first time in weeks, released the anxious tension supporting him.

Five minutes later, Harry was asleep. Six minutes, and so was Draco.

By the time they woke, Draco was feeling the little drain-tug on his magic that told him they had been long enough for the baby. He sighed and removed his hand reluctantly, feeling Harry startle away beneath him. He moaned and rubbed back into Draco’s crotch, whispering ‘please, Draco’ softly. Draco groaned, burying his face into the side of Harry’s throat and kissed there delicately, wrapping his arm back around Harry and holding him again. It took his lust addled mind several precious moments before he realised that in this situation, with Harry waking to feel Draco wrapped around him, would put him right back in Draco’s bed in the Manor. He pulled back, gently enough not to jar Harry, but swiftly enough to not get sunk into something Harry would regret.

“Wake up.” He murmured, sighing and sitting up himself. Harry rolled to face him, frowning with irritation at his reaction and sat up slowly. Unlike before, when he had been clearly nervous about his partial nudity, now he didn’t care.

“Why did you stop?” He sighed, slumping against Draco. Draco hissed in a breath.

“I thought... I thought you’d be upset.” Draco replied, a little bewildered. He rubbed his hand over Harry’s abdomen again, thrilling at the hardened, rounded flesh.

“I told you not to stop, why would I be upset?” Harry asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“I thought you might have woken up and... been confused about where you were.”

“What, thought I was in bed with Ron or something? I know you, Draco, I know how you feel against me, in me, and I just wanted to feel that again. You’re my husband, it’s not wrong.”

Draco looked at Harry, who was looking back at him with steady, sure eyes. He was unsmiling, making no effort to seduce, he was just being plain now. Draco thought it was probably sexier.

“You want that, Harry? Want to feel me on you again, inside you? Pressing you into the mattress again and making you watch me as I fuck you?” Draco asked, taking the risk and reaching cupping Harry’s cheek, watching his eyes dilate with arousal.

Harry nodded.

Draco lunged at his husband, pulling him into a fierce kiss, contradicting that with gentle touches to lower Harry to the bed. He pulled back once Harry was flat to simply look at him, laying wanton and panting with arousal in Draco’s bed. Finally re-finding his shame, Harry blushed and reached out to Draco. Draco took his hand, and pressed a kiss to the palm. He had caused Harry enough pain, now he just wanted to be gentle.

Their clothes were shed swiftly, and Draco settled happily back on top of his husband, both of them hissing softly at the feeling of their fully naked bodies connecting. Draco rubbed their bodies together, grinding carefully down into Harry, a little paranoid about hurting their baby. Harry finally groaned impatiently, spreading his legs for his husband. “Come on, Draco.” He hissed, tilting his hips invitingly. Draco groaned and lowered himself a little more, reaching for his wand. He had no lubricant here, so wand work would have to do. Rather than teasing and pressing his wand into Harry to perform the spell, he performed it over his own hand, and slid a finger into Harry. Harry arched and moaned beautifully when Draco rubbed and teased inside him, pushing another finger in as well.

In the early days it had taken three fingers to ensure Harry felt no pain (although that hadn’t meant Draco had used three fingers), but after two he thought Harry was probably ready. Harry whined when Draco removed his fingers, wiped lube onto his cock and began pushing into him. Long, slow strokes worked him fully inside, nestling Harry into his lap and slicing pleasure through them both. It didn’t take very long, hormones and weeks of denial putting them both too close to the edge too fast but, Draco felt, this was still probably the best sex they’d ever had. Harry came first, striping them both with his come and pushing Draco over the edge, not just because of the feeling of the other man orgasming around him, but also from the sheer pleasure of watching Harry’s pleasure. Later, he was going to think about making Harry masturbate for him.

They flopped on the be again, back in their previous position and relaxing together in the afterglow. Harry smiled brightly at Draco, and was leaning up to trade small, soft kisses with him when the door was knocked, and Molly Weasley’s voice came stridently through the door, searching for Harry. It was a nasty reminder that this was Draco’s reality now, where people felt the need to check on him when he was with his husband and had no sense of privacy.

Thankfully, Harry did, and Draco fell to the bed, laughing happily as Harry cast a locking and warding charm on door containing his own magical signature, and collapsed on the bed beside Draco.

When they left this room, they would face argument and condemnation. He would return to being an unwanted stranger in this house. But, here and now, Draco could hold his husband and pretend.
- 17
- 18
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The Death Eater