Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Peverell's Children	By : Zakaira Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27078 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and make no money off of writing this

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction and I’m not as well verse in canon as I’d like to be. For example, I don’t know when the bathroom scene actually happened. Do any of you know? And if anyone finds any errors with the canon, I’d really appreciate if you could point them out to me :)

            When Snape returned, Harry tried to get information out of him regarding how Malfoy was doing, but instead Snape just wanted to know about Harry’s potions book. Harry didn’t have the book on him, so he ran to his dorm to get it, getting Ron’s book as well. He made a detour to the room of requirement to hide the Half Blood Prince’s book, before handing Ron’s book over to Snape for inspection. Snape let him go after that with nothing more than a month’s worth of detentions, but Harry knew that Snape knew he had gotten that spell from that book.

            Harry didn’t dwell much on his problems with Snape, instead he went to the Gryffindor common room where he found Ron and Hermione. He told them a watered down version of events, leaving out all mentions of anything sexual, because he didn’t know how he felt about that yet. He needed time to think and he wanted to keep that to himself for a while. Instead he said, “I followed Malfoy into the bathroom. He tried to crucio me, so I hit him with a curse from the Half Blood Prince’s potion book. It nearly killed him, but Snape came in and saved him. Now he’s in the hospital wing.”

            Hermione had a bunch more questions, which Harry either refused to answer or legitimately didn’t know the answer to. Ron patted him on the back and seemed proud of him for almost killing Malfoy, which didn’t sit right with Harry and led to a fight that he was trying to forget. Instead he tried to concentrate on getting some of his homework done. Given that he had detention with Snape for the next month, he wouldn’t have much time for homework, so he really needed to get to it. He did manage to get some of it done, but his mind kept drifting off to thoughts of Malfoy and wondering if he was okay.

            Eventually Harry looked up from one of his daydreams to notice that the common room was empty. He checked the time and found that it was halfway past eleven, thus he decided to go to bed. It took him forever to fall asleep and his mind kept replaying the day’s events and trying to figure out how he ended up snogging Malfoy. Did he fancy Malfoy? Was he gay? How badly had he hurt Malfoy? Was Malfoy okay? Was he back in his own dorm room, tucked away safely for the night? Harry hoped fervently that he was.

            With thoughts of Malfoy tucked away safe and sound, Harry finally fell asleep. He slept fitfully that night, his dreams filled with images from the bathroom that day. His vision filled with bloody bathrooms, dead Malfoys, and angry Snapes. He woke up sweating a couple of times, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. There wasn’t much he could do, so he turned over and went back to sleep, only to wake up after another such nightmare. He was glad when it was morning, if only so that he wouldn’t have to close his eyes again.

            Harry groggily slogged through his morning classes without sight of Malfoy, only to find out the latest gossip during lunch. “Malfoy’s in the hospital wing. Everyone’s sayin’ you did it,” Seamus told him after coming back from chatting with a couple of Hufflepuffs.

            So Malfoy didn’t get to go back to his dorm last night and even now was still stuck in the hospital wing. Harry felt awful and buried his head in his hands so that he could have a moment to think about that news. Everyone was looking at him expecting him to know what was going on when he didn’t know anything new and didn’t particularly want to share what had happened in the loo with the entire school. He didn’t want them to know even the little bit that he had told Ron and Hermione. But everyone was staring at him when he finally lifted his head, so he said, “Yeah, I cursed him, but he should live.”

            With an answer like that, everyone wanted more details from him, which he refused to give. He was saved from the badgering questions by Snape of all people.

            “I will be unavailable to supervise your detention tonight Mr. Potter,” Snape said dryly. “I have arranged for you to serve it with Mr. Filch. You will be cleaning the owlery, without magic. Is this clear Mr. Potter?”

            “Filch, owlery, got it. But why does the owlery need cleaning?” Harry asked.

            “Mr. Finnegan had an accidental explosion up there this morning when he went to owl a letter home to his mummy. He broke the self-cleaning charms on the place. I am led to believe the place is littered with owl droppings already. It should take you all night,” Snape replied. He seemed almost giddy in his dry, monotone way.

            “Yes sir. What time am I to report to Filch?” Harry asked.

            “After dinner.”

            “But what about my homework? If I’m to serve detention every day for a month then surely I’ll need to do my homework before I report to detention,” Harry argued. He had never been let out of a detention before ten at night and he didn’t want three hours of detention every night.

            “You’ll just have to do it before dinner and on the weekends,” Snape replied, before walking away, probably to find some more Gryffindors he could give detention too.

            Harry rushed through his homework that afternoon, knowing that he would probably never have time to play Quidditch again with all of the detentions Snape had given him. He got a lot of it done, even though he kept finding himself side-tracked by thoughts of Malfoy. Would he be out of the hospital wing tonight? Malfoy wasn’t at dinner, which meant he was unlikely to be back in class tomorrow. But then Snape had healed the wounds from that blasted curse and Harry knew that Madam Pomfrey could fix anything else that was wrong with him, so Harry was left wondering what was wrong.

            Harry reported to Mr. Filch after dinner and was rewarded with a bucket full of soapy water and a wooden handled cleaning brush. He then proceeded to the owlery where he was met with an owlery full of owl droppings. “Curse you Seamus Finnegan,” Harry muttered to himself as he got to work.

            Harry thought as he cleaned. He had a lot of introspection to do regarding just what he had done in that bathroom. Yes he had almost killed Malfoy, but that was an accident. He was beating himself up over it, but it was done and Malfoy had been saved, which left Harry with a lot of questions regarding just what he wanted to happen next.

            ‘I had sex with Malfoy,’ was a thought that kept running through Harry’s mind with all the possible connotations he could think of. He had been half asleep half a dozen times the night before and then, ‘I had sex with Malfoy,’ would pop into his head and he would be wide awake again.

            First of all, there was the obvious: he was no longer a virgin. Sure it was awkward with Malfoy passing out on him and bleeding and pushing him off and hexing him; that certainly didn’t help his ego. It was official- he was crap in bed- so bad that Draco had tried to use an unforgiveable on him; it probably wasn’t even possible to be worse than that. But at least he wasn’t a virgin anymore and maybe he wouldn’t be so bad at it the next time, although at this point, any encounter that left his partner without the need to visit the hospital wing would be an improvement.

            ‘I wonder if Malfoy will let there be a next time,’ was another thought that ran through Harry’s head. That one startled him and he had to think about it for some time, scrubbing over and over again at a particularly caked on bit of bird excrement. It implied that he, Harry, wanted there to be a next time; a next time with Malfoy.

            ‘Okay, just forget about Malfoy being the spawn of Death Eaters and think about this rationally. Draco’s a good looking bloke.’ And that last part of the thought got Harry caught up in another whole topic for self-introspection. Harry was a bloke and Malfoy was a bloke. Did that make Harry gay? Was he a ponce? A fruit? He had never had such intense sexual feelings for another person before. Sure he had that crush on Cho, but that was nothing compared to this. He had been fantasizing about Ginny lately, but he didn’t really want her, not the way he wanted Draco. He wanted Draco’s body. The thought of Ginny naked made him want to gag; he didn’t want her the way he wanted Draco.

            ‘Maybe it’s good this happened. Now I know that what I feel for Ginny isn’t sexual,’ Harry thought next, working his way through the owlery, one turd at a time.

            From there he wondered if he found other guys attractive, or if it was just Draco. ‘Definitely not Ron. Maybe Dean, but not Neville or Seamus; eww,’ Harry thought, not even paying attention to the crap as he cleaned. ‘Okay Dean, focus on him. Does he look good in the shower? Maybe. I bet Malfoy looks great in the shower!’ Little Harry got excited about that thought, imagining the water dripping down over Malfoy’s lean body, washing over the giant cock.

            ‘Malfoy’s cock should have its own postal code, it’s so big,’ Harry thought to himself and sniggered out loud. It was a good thing he was alone in the owlery, so that nobody would bother him, wanting to know what was so funny. He needed the time to think. ‘And wank. Definitely need to wank if I’m gonna keep thinking about Malfoy’s cock.’

            Harry needed a break. His bucket was so full of shite that the water was thick with grey and brown muck. He went outside to dump the bucket out, before going into a little supply room under the stairs on the ground level of the owlery. There was a sink there where he made a bucket full of fresh clean soapy water and rinsed out his brush, before washing off his own hands, because he didn’t want to get owl dropping on his wand or in his robes. He then pulled out said wand and cast a cleaning charm, a drying charm, and a warming charm on himself.

            Feeling a lot better now that he was warm, clean, and dry, Harry sat down in the lone chair in the corner and let his thoughts take a detour through Malfoy-in-the-shower-land. When he was done, he vanished the mess, and thought to himself, ‘Okay, I’m gay. I’m definitely gay and I fancy Malfoy and his cock; especially his cock. No wonder it takes me so long to spank the monkey when I try thinking about Ginny. I’ll just think about Malfoy’s cock from now on and cut the required time way down. How does a boy that thin, have a cock like that hidden on him? It’s like a third leg! Wait, it’s not that long, don’t exaggerate; it’s more like a third arm, just down there. Wait, no, his arms are longer than that…okay, it’s like a short third arm, with a giant cock head on top. Okay, better get back to work, or I’ll be here all night.’

            So Harry went back to work cleaning the owlery, finally having come to the realization that he was gay and fancied Malfoy. He even wanted to have sex with Malfoy again. ‘The sex was enjoyable, for me at least,’ he thought, which led him back to his earlier thought regarding whether or not Malfoy would ever consent to sex with him again.

            ‘I’ll have to get him alone and apologize to him. Maybe if I make it clear that I want more than just a one off he’ll be more amenable to continuing the relationship.’

            And so with that settled Harry resolved to finish the owlery quickly so that he could go back to the common room and finish all his homework for the next day. If he didn’t have to worry about homework tomorrow, then he could sneak into the hospital wing and see Malfoy before dinner. That is, if Malfoy was still in the hospital wing. By all rights Malfoy should be right as rain by then and Harry could arrange to meet him somewhere else, like the room of requirement. Well maybe not somewhere quite so private next time; not after what happened in the loo. ‘Alright, the library then.’ Harry would ask Malfoy to meet him in the library. He could cast a silencing charm and snog him in the back when Madam Pince wasn’t looking.

            Harry cast a scourgify on the owl droppings, breaking Snape’s ban on magical cleaning, but then the ban was stupid, because an automatic scourgify was what was normally used to keep the owlery in shape. So he cast scourgify a few more times until the owlery sparkled, cleaned up his bucket of water and brush, and then proceeded back to his common room, without returning the cleaning supplies to Filch, because if Filch new he was done early, he would probably give him something else to clean.

            Ron and Hermione were happy to see him. Ron was a bit miffed that Harry didn’t fancy a game of exploding snap with him and the rest of the sixth year boys, but Hermione was happy to help him get through that transfigurations essay that was due the day after tomorrow; she was just so happy that he didn’t want to leave it to the last minute that she didn’t mind sharing her research. Hermione’s research, like always, helped a lot and made the essay practically write itself. He was done in no time and even got a start on his charms essay that was also due.

            “I gotta get back to detention,” Harry announced, packing up his homework at nine thirty sharp and grabbing his bucket and brush.

            His fellow Gryffindors waved to him and he set off to find Filch and give him back his cleaning supplies.

            “Done already, are you Mr. Potter?” Filch questioned.

            “Yes sir,” he replied. Filch looked like he was thinking about giving Harry something else to clean, so he added, “I still have homework to do, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just be going then.”

            “Yeah, sure, go,” Filch said and Harry didn’t wait around to hear Filch start on his rant about the good old days when he used to tie students up in the dungeons by their toenails; he heard the first few words of it and that was enough.

            Harry went back to the common room and finished his essay, before going to bed. His sleep was fitful again, but now that he had a plan, he was able to get through the night much more easily. Plus after a few hours of manual labor and hardly any sleep the night before, he was bone tired. He only woke up with thoughts of bloodied dead blonds once that night.



Author’s Note: I’d like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and encourage all of you to leave me a little note. Also, any ideas for this story you have would be greatly appreciated.
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Peverell's Children