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Political Axes	By : Rettavex Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12136 -:- 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
- 1-Political Axes
- 2-Ch 1
- 3-ch2
- 4-Ch3
- 5-Ch 4
- 6-5
- 7-6
- 8-7
- 9-8
- 10-9
- 11-10
- 12-11
- 13-12
- 14-13
- 15-14
- 16-15
- 17-16
- 18-17
- 19-18
- 20-19
- 21-20
- 1
- 2
- 3
For Slyth, who saved me from the comma splice demons that plague my computer at night.

�I�ve got to go. It�s truly been a pleasure.� Harry rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, picked up a platinum ring with an emerald stone embedded in the center from the night table and placed it on his middle finger. He always removed it before sleeping with someone that wasn�t Draco.
�So soon? You could stay the night. I won�t mind,� purred a leggy brunette, nearly as tall as Harry who lay sprawled on the bed behind him. Her tawny skin was sweaty as she lay catching her breath, nipples still peaked.
�No, I suppose you wouldn�t mind,� Harry replied as he zipped his jeans and bent to pick up his button-down shirt from the carpeted floor. �I have someone waiting for me.�
The brunette stilled, eyes focusing and squinting like an eagle on Harry. �I thought you said you weren�t married? That ring is on your middle finger if I am not mistaken.�
Harry let out a brief chuckle. �No, I am not married. I still can�t stay, but again it was a pleasure. You are a gorgeous woman. And that thing you do, when you twist and clench while you are on all fours�ah, that is a thing of beauty.�
Having finished getting his clothes righted and shoes tied, Harry bent to give the brunette a parting kiss. The kiss did not linger, but it was soft and chaste.
�When will I hear from you?� the brunette asked, raking her burgundy painted nails up her own thighs, still damp with perspiration.
�Well, you likely won�t. I have a policy�once to bed. It�s nothing personal, but I�ve not yet found a reason to go against it,� said Harry, rising back up.
�Besides, I doubt I�ll give you another chance to write a story or sell pictures of the prick of the �Boy Who Lived�,� he added just before he whipped out his wand and cast Obliviate on the brunette. Her facial muscles slackened, her eyes glassed over and she began to idly finger a lock of damp, wavy hair resting near her collarbone, as if daydreaming. He could have cast it wandless, but for some reason his wandless magic was always a tad weaker after orgasm. Might ask Hermione to check on that one of these days, he thought.
Harry then walked over to the wardrobe on the wall facing the bed and spelled it open. Inside hung a camera, charmed to take continuous wizard photos, no doubt headed for the desk of one Rita Skeeter come morning. He cast a charm to erase the images and closed the wardrobe. Yes, he thought, this one was rather convincing until he caught a glimpse of something using a brief Legilimens on her while at the bar. In the last half year Harry had taken to performing a cursory probe of the minds of all his conquests as a safety precaution. He didn�t like boring into the minds of his potential sex partners, but it was a necessary dubious act, one at which he was rather skilled. Plus he knew that The Daily Prophet was continuously coming up with schemes to get some rather racy material on him.
Since his rather public breakup with Ginny Weasley and subsequent relationship with Draco, �a tawdry affair� the newspaper called it, the media had been intent on nothing more than uncovering just what went on between Potter and Malfoy. The media, backed surely by anonymous Ministry higher-ups, was hell bent to break up the two men, since no doubt Draco was obviously not good enough for Harry. It simply wouldn�t do to have the �Boy Who Lived� dating an ex-Death Eater.
Five years had gone by since the end of the war, which lasted through his twentieth birthday, and still they called him a fucking boy. Surely murder for the greater good warranted an upgrade in ludicrous title. Morons the lot of them, Harry always said. Despite the fact that Draco turned for the Light side the year prior to the end of the war, bringing over several of his peers who had been succumbing to the pressure to follow Death Eater parents, and was crucial in Voldemort�s downfall and the subsequent capture of several dozen of his followers, the Ministry and many in the Wizarding world simply would not cut the blond any slack at all, mostly due to his surname.
After Lucius had been killed leading a raid on the Ministry Draco was free to do as he pleased and without family pressure to fulfill his role as Lucius� understudy, Draco defected quickly. He started a sort of underground for the children of Death Eaters, getting them out and into safe houses, using Malfoy funds he�d inherited upon his father�s death no less. Most of the Order knew of Draco�s role in the war, but unseen forces had worked their own magic to reduce the sum of Draco�s deeds to �Participant under duress, turned informant.�
Harry hated politics so. If not for the good he felt able to accomplish by being in the employ of the wizarding government he would have quit long ago. So by working for the Ministry, they had a stake in his image. Even with the demise of Voldemort, the Ministry was still desperate to hold on to the glossy, boyish image they had created for Harry, and the nefarious image it had cultivated for any and every Malfoy, Parkinson, Black, Flint, Avery, Nott, etcetera. He couldn�t give a piss about that image and had as much as told them so in an infamous open door row with Richard McNeil, Head of the Ministry Press Office when told that his intimate choices presented a rather �thorny problem� for them and that it was �awkward� explaining his �affiliation with Mr. Malfoy�. God, he hated that man. Harry nearly decked him shortly after the word affiliation left his lips.
Casting a last look back at the nude woman on the bed, Harry shook his head and then Apparated into the downstairs study at Malfoy Manor. He and Draco had taken to splitting time between Malfoy Manor, their shared, trendy flat in London, and number twelve, Grimmauld Place. This month they were at the Manor. Waving his hand carelessly, he cast a Tempus charm and noticed it was just after 11 p.m. Not too bad for a Friday night, he mused. He had decided to go out after work instead of coming straight to the Manor and now all he wanted was a shower, a little scotch, maybe a back rub and then sleep. A house-elf appeared no sooner than Harry called for one.
�Good evening, Master Harry. What is it you be wanting Nippy to do for you, sir?�
Harry smiled at the little elf. She had been a gift from Draco and followed Harry to each of the residents whenever he chose to leave the Manor for any extended period.
�Evening, Nippy. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to bring me a scotch and a glass of water to the bedroom suite. Better yet, place them both in the bath on the top shelf of the tub please.�
�Would Master like the Laphroaig, the Oban, or the Talisker?�
�The Talisker please, Nippy.�
�Yes sir, right away,� came the elf�s enthusiastic reply. Nippy, dressed in a rather clean tea towel, bowed low and disappeared with a muffled pop.
Harry leafed through a small stack of post he had received. Seeing nothing urgent he decided to head up for his bath and bed. As he entered the suite he noticed that there were muffled moans and grunts coming from the bedroom. Harry toed off his shoes in the sitting room and then proceeded to the bedroom. There, on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, sat a naked Draco, with his hands fisting in the curly, dense locks of a very fit, deep caramel-colored bloke. Harry paused in the threshold to the room and leaned against the wall. Just as Harry settled with his arms across his chest, Draco noticed him.
�Harry� home so soon?� Draco asked between breaths.
The man kneeling startled and nearly choked coming up for air, but Draco simply tightened his grip and held him in place on his knees.
�It�s 11.� Harry glanced between Draco and his guest as if Draco were merely reading the paper.
�Think you�ll be long?� he asked, cocking is head lazily to one side.
Draco�s eyes, glazed with lust, twinkled mischievously. A small smirk settled on his lips and with a gesture of his head he introduced the two men.
�Chase, this is Harry. Harry, Chase.�
Harry nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt, starting with the cuffs. Chase looked warily between Harry and Draco, unsure if he should run, brace for a blow, or resume his previous activity. Draco, noticing the tension from Chase, simply smiled at him, placed an innocent kiss on the tip of the man�s nose, and then reached down and started fisting his own cock. Hardly oblivious to Harry�s presence, Chase could only watch as Draco quickly brought himself to completion, spurting thick streams of ejaculate onto Chase�s chin, chest, and neck, and then rubbing the tip of his cock across Chase�s lips once or twice.
�Ahh�ughh�ahhh. No� not long, Harry,� Draco breathed. He sucked in a post-orgasmic hiss before exhaling a ragged breath.
�I�ll be in the bath,� said Harry, crossing the bedroom into the suite�s bath before closing the door.
Draco watched Harry exit the bedroom and then turned to Chase. �I must say that was fun. Too bad it has to end.�
Chase simply stared mute at Draco as if expecting an explanation. Little did he know, Malfoys did not do explanations, especially not for Muggle blokes pulled at dance clubs for a quickie.
Sensing that he would not get what he did not request Chase asked, �That your man?�
�If by my man, you mean my lover, then yes.�
�He was awfully calm. He�s not going to�I don�t know� burst out of the bathroom at any moment and beat the shit out of me, yeah?�
�Not likely. He�s more likely to come out and invite you in to share a bath,� added Draco with a hint of amusement.
�Really?�
It was obvious to Draco that Chase was stranded somewhere between utter disbelief and relief.
�Yes. Especially if he had any clue how deep your throat goes. My lover and I are�complicated. Let�s leave it at that, shall we? However, something tells me he needs more than to be sucked off by the gorgeous, bronzed Adonis that you are.�
With that Draco handed Chase his clothes, along with a towel to rid himself of Draco�s sperm. After tying on a deep green silk robe Draco turned just as Chase finished righting his clothes to see Chase, still eying the bathroom door warily.
Chase whispered, �Fancy getting together again sometime?�
Draco chuckled and replied in a normal voice, �Lovely as you are, I must decline.�
Draco then began walking out of the suite towards the stairs to show his visitor out. Chase paused as the night air drifted inside through the door Draco held open.
�If you and� Harold was it? Anyway, if you and he ever want to hook up perhaps� .�
The boldness of the invite was not lost on Draco, yet the blond simply stated, �Perhaps� in return before bidding the man a goodnight.
As Draco entered the bathroom he noticed two things. One, Harry soaking, head thrown back on the edge, arms spread out and hooked around the edge, his eyes closed. Two, the glass of partially drunk scotch clutched in his right hand. That was all Draco needed to see to know that something was bothering his lover. Sure Harry drank, most nights. Truth be told his alcohol tolerance level mystified even Draco, and as far as Draco had witnessed only came in second to the Weasley men. Harry preferred imported beers, wine, and the occasional cognac or port. Yet he never drank scotch unless something pissed him off.
Draco disrobed and slid into the water alongside Harry. He moved across the tub, which in actuality was a bit like a small marbled pond, to face Harry. Once close enough, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on Harry�s lips and then reached over and tugged the glass of scotch from his hands. Draco took a sip from the glass, savoring the taste for a few seconds before addressing Harry.
�Rough night, or not rough enough?� he asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
Harry gave a half-hearted groan and sank all the way down into the tub, wetting his hair before springing back to the surface.
�Spill, Harry.� Draco began lathering soap between his hands.
�Prophet. Brunette this time. Tried to get photos. I Obliviated her and left.� Harry turned so that Draco could wash his back. �Had to use the wand though.�
The attempt by the brunette had shaken Harry more than he wanted to tell Draco, but Draco could see past that tough, seemingly nonchalant act better than anyone. Years of enemy reconnaissance on Harry had fitted Draco with unsurpassed insight into every facial tick, sigh, and tone Harry could produce. He knew every nuance of movement. Draco was like one of those Muggle lie detectors when it came to Harry, he couldn�t be bluffed.
�What is it with the brunettes? I mean you dated that little Weaslette all that time. You�d think they�d go for redheads every now and again.�
Draco began kneading Harry�s shoulders, using the soapsuds to help smooth his strokes.
�At least they won�t be able to trace the Memory Charm. An array of wands from dead Malfoys has its uses, no?�
No one knew that Harry rotated through a collection of wands from dead wizards. His own wand had been destroyed in the final battle and he had never thought to get another one, especially since his wandless magic became so strong. Still, he needed one every now and again, and Malfoy was happy to oblige his lover by allowing him use of his ancestors� wands, which could no longer be traced since the owners were dead.
�Well, I am right sick of this shit. I mean, really; where I put my dick is none of their concern, is it,� Harry lamented.
�It should not be, but the reality is that it is. We�ve got to manage our�activities a little differently I think.� Draco spoke slowly, pausing to give Harry time to consider the implications of his words.
�You mean controlling the environment a bit more. That�s hardly my desire Draco and you know it. Part of what I like�what I need�is the freedom. I thought you knew that and you agreed. I will not let them control my movements. I�ve had enough of that for a lifetime.�
Harry could feel his temper rising. He had no desire to be imprisoned by his unwanted fame. He�d done his job. He�d killed Voldemort. He lost all his family save Remus and the Weasleys. He�d be damned if after dodging Death Eaters and their leader for over half his life he would now continue live as some sort of monk or recluse to appease the masses. Draco sensed the anger increasing with Harry�s every word, but quickly sought to reassure him.
�I do understand, Harry. I do. But that does not mean the outside world would understand this taste for variety between us. It�s tough enough for them to accept you with a man, let alone an evil Malfoy. The idea that their Chosen One likes to variously shag men and women, with the blessings of said evil Malfoy is just too much for them.�
Draco began massaging shampoo into Harry�s hair, lightly scraping the scalp with every other stroke. Harry let out a burdensome sigh.
�My home is just that, Draco, my home. It is�difficult enough�having you bring dates home. I have no desire for the people I pull to know where I live, to meet you, or really to know anything about me beyond the curve of my prick.
�I understand that you feel safest here in the Manor for your trysts, but I am the opposite. I prefer handling business elsewhere and maintain this little bit of space just for myself and those I trust. I won�t bring random fucks into my home.�
Harry leveled a knowing stare at Draco and added, �It requires too much trust. I�ve learned my lesson there, I think.�
Those last words had both Harry and Draco recalling a nasty episode a few months back when a Muggle bloke Harry brought to their London flat a few nights prior decided to return, unannounced with some of his buddies. Their intention was to rob the place. Living so long in the wizarding world had made Harry a little forgetful that there were bad men in Muggle society as well. Draco had been home alone in the kitchen having a nightcap when the six men entered. Having left his wand in the bedroom Draco was at a severe disadvantage. Sure, he knew how to Muggle duel thanks to Harry and their school rivalry, but he was not nearly as good as it as Harry. Draco preferred the precision and distance of magic to the messy business of fists and even if he was so inclined to fight, six to one was hardly a fight he could win. Just as they had Draco pinned, two men holding him down at the table alternately punching him in the gut to keep him subdued, Harry came home from his own night out on the prowl. The details remain shrouded in secrecy and rumor, but there was a report of six missing male friends in the local Muggle newspaper three days later. Harry had to call in numerous favors, bully with his name and Draco even had to bribe a few Ministry law enforcement peons to help them manage the damage.
Their Muggle neighbors were planted with a false memory of a gas explosion. According to the final report on file at the Ministry one of Draco�s potion experiments went bad and caused severe damage to the flat. That was the explanation that finally ran in the Daily Prophet to explain the detail of MLE officers dispatched to Muggle London and the smoke seen emanating from the residence on the night in question. Harry was in no mood to relive a scene like that again.
�I understand, Harry. It was just a thought. I simply wanted to protect you from prying eyes and this way the wards and protections of the Manor would ensure that nothing escaped or entered these premises that shouldn�t. Nude photos included.� Draco smirked and planted a love bite on the back of Harry�s neck just before Harry sunk low to rinse the shampoo from his hair.
�I know, Draco. Thanks for the effort, but I really think we can find another way. First by smoking out just who is financing this big dig effort to uncover my sex life and why,� said Harry as he turned to properly kiss his lover. �I can�t believe it�s all about you and the image thing. My gut is telling me there is a larger plot at work here.�
After a few minutes of deep kissing, punctuated by playful, scotch-flavored nips to one another�s lips, Harry stated, �By the way. I thought we agreed not to use our bed.�
�Did you see us on the bed?� Draco responded in a bored voice.
�You know what I mean. Why have the guest suite across the hall prepared at all if we aren�t going to use it?� Harry reached for the soap and began washing Draco in turn.
�I had every intention, but� I discovered we were out of lube, all right. Naturally, Chase and I sought out this necessity. The nearest was in our night table, so we ended up in here. I am sorry, Harry.�
Draco, after pecking Harry once more on the mouth, sunk low into the water to rinse the soap from his hair, which had grown to his middle back. Harry loved that hair, especially wet. The silken strands became weighted and the silvery blond locks lay perfectly down Draco�s neck and back. Draco had received the famous Malfoy hair color, but the thickness was all Black. Harry wanted to wrap himself in that hair sometimes.
�No worries. I just hate interrupting you, so if you use the guest suite�� Harry got out of the tub, dripping as he padded over to a shelf holding fluffy red towels and wrapping one about his waist before heading into the bedroom.
Draco followed a few minutes later to find Harry lying on a chaise in front of the fireplace watching the flames dance. Draco knew that despite his and Harry�s agreement to have a rather extremely open relationship sexually, that Harry still needed to feel secure, and part of that security was knowing that some things were his and his alone. Born out of a childhood of hand-me-down clothes and not enough love, and a near lifetime of being manipulated, worshipped and hunted by others, Harry desperately wanted a piece of the world for his own solitude. Draco often thought if not for the desire of sex Harry might never leave the Manor, save to go to work.
Despite all he had been subjected to in his young life, and for all his prurient sexual tastes, Harry was still a force of justice and righteousness�ideals which he still sought to champion in his role as Senior Auror, Class 5, a rank only 6 wizards held currently. These 6 made up a special department within the Aurors created at the end of the war, and no one knew what they did or when, except their supervisor whose name no one knew, except Minister Shacklebolt and the 6 wizards�Harry, Ron and Charlie Weasley, Rockland Marsh, Sylvanius Thorn, and Emma Johnson. Many suspected the supervisor was either Moody or Minister Shacklebolt himself, but no one had proven the rumors yet.
Draco knelt down beside the chaise and watched the light from the fire flicker across Harry�s torso, noting the faint scars, the rippling muscles, the flaming phoenix tattoo on his left bicep that meant so much. He then saw the fresh nail marks on Harry�s forearm. He couldn�t help but have a little spark of jealously, however fleeting, whenever Harry came back marked from a romp with someone else. He knew Harry mostly went for females outside of their bed, but he also knew the occasional man made a brief appearance beneath his lover. He was not at odds with their arrangement in the slightest, still he couldn�t help but be a little pissed when evidence of that arrangement stood in bold relief afterward. Harry belonged to him and marks by others were barely tolerated. Harry felt the same way, so the only reason he showed with those marks must have been that he had not seen them or else he would have healed them before coming home. Draco Summoned his wand, silently Vanished the nail marks. Harry gave him a look of apology, which Draco returned, both acknowledging the evening�s unintentional mistakes on both their parts. As Draco looked at Harry he was once again reminded that whenever Harry felt hurt or threatened he needed to be reassured that no matter what transpired outside of their relationship, none of it could damage the bond they shared. Harry needed to be reminded that there was something of his own choosing, something that no matter how much others thought they knew was truly only known by him. Draco had every desire to remind his lover that he was just such a thing.
Draco stood, unhooked his towel and dropped it to the floor in front of the chaise. He then bent back down, gripped Harry�s towel and swiftly yanked it from his waist. As their eyes made contact Draco knew he would do anything, anything at all to keep this man splayed before him whole and sated. He pulled Harry up to a seated position on the chaise, and got to his knees before his lover. With no prelude, no words, he bent his head and took Harry into his mouth, wasting no time bringing Harry to his full stiffness. Harry wrapped Draco�s long damp hair around his fist to anchor himself for the ride. Draco loved the feeling of Harry�s hand gripped so tightly in his hair, hair he let no one fist except his lover.
�Ah�Draco.� Harry was breathing heavily, gazing down with eyes wide open watching as Draco kissed, licked, and sucked his cock. He loved those lips. They were the perfect pink, and pouty, even before kissing. �Oh, Dray�yesss...Draco.�
Breaking for a moment, letting his hand continue the work of his mouth, Draco leaned forward and licked a dusky nipple before biting down and sucking it deeply into his mouth, causing a gasp to rise from Harry. He knew his lover liked rough play, due to always having to bottle up his feelings and censor his actions due to public scrutiny and the small chance his magic would do damage if not properly controlled. It was during sex that Harry felt most free, most alive, most himself. Draco knew this and always made himself available as an outlet.
Truth be told Draco felt most connected to Harry when Harry unleashed his passions physically. Draco knew during these passionate moments, be they seeking pleasure or displayed during an argument, that he was seeing the true Harry, feeling him. Straight, no chaser was how Draco thought of it. No matter their romantic connection now, one thing remained true about Draco and Harry, they got physical. Their fights were just as passion-filled as their lovemaking, but thankfully shorter lived. They didn�t bother with wands, because in a hex-to-hex battle Draco was smoked. Yet, when he defected to the Light he began training with Harry and Ron and despite his beautiful features and long hair, Draco boxed quite well. He was quick and agile and knew how to put his weight behind a punch. Plus, he fought dirty, which made for spectacular rows, however rarely they occurred. They would never be foes again, but they still could piss one another off royally and when they did they were not weeping maidens about it. They were men and they behaved as such, unashamedly. This was just another aspect of their relationship that few understood and one they themselves had long since stopped analyzing.
�I�m sorry I brought Chase into the bedroom, love. He�s nothing. Nothing at all... a toy. Remember. I�m only truly yours, Harry.�
With that Draco descended once again on Harry�s cock and proceeded to suck him to completion, savoring every drop, swallowing completely. Like a man dying of thirst he drank of his lover.
Harry bent to retrieve Draco, bringing him up to straddle his thighs. He looked in Draco�s eyes and whispered, �Thank you.� Then took Draco�s face in both hands and licked a slow path across his lips, loving the thought of sharing himself with Draco, tasting himself on Draco�s tongue. This little action was a balm for his heart, knowing that Draco would only ever taste of his seed.
The two lovers sat this way on the chaise in front of the fire for hours, simply stroking and petting, kissing until sleep threatened to overtake them both. It was nearly 2 a.m. by the time Harry waved his hand to lower the fire and dampen the wicks in the wall sconces, before he moved them to the bed where he spooned up behind Draco and fell into a dreamless sleep.
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Political Axes