The Labyrinth

Warnings: Angst,Crossover,Crying,H/C,Language,M/M,Oral,Yaoi (later is now HERE! YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT IT'S IN THIS EXACT CHAPTER!), OOC-ness only to the extent that it fits the movie and plot (except now that the "movie" is over, hopefully there won't be any more OOC-ness)

Author's note--YAY THE GOODNESS IS HERE! This chapter is Top!Harry, Bottom!Draco. They will switch in the next chapter, so if you have an absolute preference, you'll be really happy 50% of the time. LOL I like them to switch off, so they do!

Also, this is (I think) the last chapter of "explanation". I couldn't just leave Lucius and Narcissa's plot bunny out to strangle, so we might have a bit more angst (sorry, Draco) before they're through. The rest will be fluffiness and tying up the plot ends; though I think this is the last real loose end to tie up.

I know that this might seem a little OOC for Draco to behave this way during sex (you'll see what I mean) but I think he needed the catharsis. Plus, there has been OOC-ness throughout, so why not have it lead to shagging? HA! Thought you'd see it my way! LMAO Enjoy!
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The Labyrinth

Making Draco Feel

Harry sat at the table for about another minute before he realized that he had after-dinner plans. He got up from the table and started towards his dorm room to go get his Invisibility Cloak so that he could sneak up to the Room of Requirement. He stopped suddenly, remembering that he had taken the Cloak to the bathroom in the dungeons, but it hadn’t been in the labyrinth with him. He didn’t remember retrieving it after he ‘returned’, so it must still be in the bathroom. He turned around, slinking back down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn’t run into Snape because the professor surely wouldn’t be happy about Harry being in his territory.

He got to the bathroom without incident, but it took him a while of scrounging on his hands and knees before he finally found his Cloak, against the far wall where he had backed when Voldemort tossed the snake on him. That was the one thing with the Invisibility Cloak; it was a pain in the arse if he forgot where he left it! He pulled it over his head and exited the bathroom, satisfied that Snape wouldn’t catch him now. And now that he had everything, if he never went into that bathroom again, it would be too soon! He took a detour by the entrance to the Slytherin commons room, just in case Draco should happen to be around. He had just walked by when he heard the portrait grinding, and he flattened himself against the wall so that whoever was coming out wouldn’t crash into him by accident. It was a good thing he had quick Seeker reflexes because he would’ve been barreled over as the person came shooting out of the portrait like the Hogwarts Express at full steam.

Harry barely had time to catch a glimpse of pale blonde hair flying when Snape appeared in the doorway, bellowing “DRACO MALFOY, YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!” Harry had been on the receiving end of Snape’s lectures many times, but he had never heard the professor raise his voice as loudly as Snape was yelling right now, and especially not at Draco. He didn’t wait around to see what Snape would do, though; he took off in hot pursuit of the blonde. He didn’t have his Map, and Draco had a head start, but Harry was in shape and used to running; he did an awful lot of it in the labyrinth. Draco always used to be the faster runner, purely because he had longer legs and therefore, a longer stride; now that Harry was the same height, he kept up with Draco for the first few flights of stairs. It was clear that he was heading to the seventh floor, and Harry had to stop and breathe on the third floor landing. Once his lungs had expanded enough that he didn’t feel about to collapse, he continued hurrying up the stairs, heading for the Room of Requirement.

Once he got to the right corridor, he expected to see the door, since he presumed Draco was already in there and waiting for him. The wall was blank. Harry paced three times, thinking of Draco. The door didn’t appear, since he wasn’t trying to bend the Room to his will. That’s when Harry realized Draco wasn’t there. He idly wondered if Draco had continued on to one of the towers, deciding that he now needed the damn Map again. He turned the corner, heading down the corridor to the portrait of the Fat Lady, only to hear her screeching in horror. He could see pink dancing around frenetically, and he took off, wondering what on earth could be wrong. She was hopping around in her frame, trying to stay away from the bottom left corner, pointing and shrieking like mad.

Draco was sitting on the floor, head resting on portrait, alternating between banging on the canvas and apparently trying to scratch the paint off in an attempt to get into Gryffindor. The Fat Lady was terrified that the blonde would peel her right off of the canvas, and as soon as she saw Harry’s head appear in the air, her terrified shrieks turned into shouted pleas for help. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak all the way off, dropping it next to the wall. His face was red and sweaty, and his hair was damp in patches from perspiration. He crouched and took Draco by the shoulders, pulling the blonde away from the portrait, and Draco turned to look at him, eyes widening.

“Harry!” Harry heard the exclamation from Draco before the boy buried his face in Harry’s collarbone. Harry was utterly confused, but he knew they couldn’t just sit in the hallway. He gathered his strength, forcing his already strained thighs to push him up, hoisting Draco along with him.

“Come on, let’s go to the Room and talk about whatever’s going on, Draco,” he said, hoping Draco could hear him above the Fat Lady’s carrying on. Draco drew back and nodded. Harry grabbed his Cloak in one hand, Draco’s hand in the other, and led the blonde to the blank wall. He imagined a deep, comfortable lounge chair big enough for two and perfect for cuddling. He herded Draco inside, hanging his Cloak on the hook by the door, smiling at the small table with a tea service that was next to his luscious looking lounger. He sat back, reclining, and pulled Draco into his arms, so that he was laying on his back with Draco on his side next to him. They were close, but still face to face enough to have a conversation.

“Draco, what happened? Why was Snape yelling at you?” Harry brushed Draco’s bangs off of his forehead, not liking the miserable, taut look on his lover’s face. Haltingly, the story of his parents’ ultimatum poured forth from Draco, and Harry couldn’t help the horrified expression that came over his face when Draco talked about what his mother and father expected of him. He had obsessed about it last night and all during the day, when Harry’s in-class comment had brought things to a head. Then Draco had been utterly distracted until after dinner, when Snape had caught him in the Entrance Hall, pulled him down to Slytherin, and informed him of the bad news.

Voldemort’s chamber and throne room had been in a secret place under Malfoy Manor. It had been underground, under the gardens, and some sort of strange earthquake had taken place, destroying the greenery and leaving the Dark Lord’s throne exposed, along with his robes and the words Snape told Harry. Apparently a portion of the Manor had been knocked down as well, but the majority of it was still standing, according to Snape.

Narcissa had been in her drawing room, which was in the part of the house that was reduced to rubble, and Snape had found her pinned under massive chunks of concrete, barely alive. The professor managed to free the blonde woman and keep her alive long enough to Apparate to St. Mungo’s, where she was currently in grave condition. That was when the Ministry was alerted to something being wrong, especially since Narcissa was a Death Eater. They dispatched Aurors to the Manor, taking inventory of which Death Eaters were dead and arresting those who were merely unconscious.

Under Shacklebolt’s orders, the wounded ones were to be transported to St. Mungo’s and placed in a secure, separate ward, where they would be healed and then taken to Azkaban. Lucius, meanwhile, was in his study, which was left standing, but Tonks and Dawlish had found him passed out on the floor, chest caved in. They had taken him to St. Mungo’s, where they pronounced that it was the worst case of a shattered sternum and ribs they had ever seen. One of the doctors commented that it appeared that a 10-inch-in-diameter hole had very nearly been blasted through Lucius’ torso, and he was lucky to be alive.

That was the bad news that Snape had delivered to Draco right after dinner, since Snape had spent the entire afternoon (from leaving class up until dinner) fishing people out of the rubble and trying to assist in figuring out what had happened, since it quite obviously wasn’t a sanctioned Order tactical strike. Draco hadn’t known quite how to take the news of his parents’ grim prognosis, but when Snape took hold of Draco’s elbow, assuring him that he would be able to get the student in to see his parents immediately, Draco had jerked away and fled.

* * * * *

“Harry, what am I supposed to feel?” Draco asked flatly. “I know I should be sad, since they’re my parents and all, and I know I should go see them. But there’s another part of me that’s relieved, too, and that part of me doesn’t want to see them at all. I-I just don’t know how I feel; I don’t think I feel anything.” Harry’s throat constricted at hearing the indifferent tone of Draco’s voice, and he pulled the boy close, resting his cheek against Draco’s blonde hair. Draco’s eyes were dry, and Harry wasn’t sure if that was because Draco was holding it in or if he had cried himself out earlier, even though he didn’t cry all that much.

“Draco, whatever you’re feeling is normal,” he began, stopping when the blonde head pulled away from him, and the grey eyes glared.

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” He hissed angrily. “I said I’m NOT feeling anything! How the fuck can THAT be normal?”

“You sound angry right now,” Harry pointed out logically. “That’s feeling something.”

“That’s because you infuriate me more than anyone I’ve ever met,” Draco declared. Harry paused to consider that; Draco claimed that he didn’t feel anything over his parents possibly dying, and yet he was angry that Harry wasn’t listening? Harry had a suspicion that Draco was hiding behind his anger, and if the Slytherin wanted to feel, then Harry had to push him until he broke. It was not an enjoyable prospect for Harry.

“Are you really angry at me, though?” Harry bit his lip, hoping he was making the right decision. “Or is this a cover-up for emotions that you don’t want to deal with?”

Draco blanched. He pulled out of Harry’s arms, got up, and began to pace. His surface-level annoyance at Harry quickly faded. Harry looked stricken and scared that Draco was on the other side of the room. He paced back over to Harry, stopping at the arm of the chair, staring down at Harry with a blank expression.

“Tell me, Potter,” he said in his mean-sarcastic voice. “Tell me about your parents.” Harry suddenly got a wary look on his face.

“Draco, I’m only going to say this once,” he said quietly, causing Draco to have to crouch to hear him. “If you want to talk about my parents, that’s fine; we can talk about them. But if you’re going to use that tone while we talk about them, I’m leaving. It doesn’t mean that I love you any less, but-but…just don’t cross the line, okay? Because if you did…” Harry gestured helplessly, not able to bring himself to complete that threat. And he forgot that Malfoys like a challenge.

“What would happen if I did, Harry? How do I know whether I’m crossing the line if you won’t tell me where it is?” The look Harry gave him stole Draco’s breath, and not in a good way. Harry’s expressive green eyes were a mixture of anger, hatred, and deep sadness.

“You don’t mean that,” he half-whispered. “I’m deadly serious about this, and I’m trusting you not to hurt me.” Draco opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. Shit. He genuinely wanted to talk to Harry about his parents, but it had been so easy to fall back into their ‘Potter/Malfoy’ snarkiness; plus, it gave Draco something to focus on besides his own emotions. Harry ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to get hold of himself, and then it hit him that this was a cover-up, a diversion. Draco was controlling the conversation, which was why Harry was feeling like he was on the edge of breaking. This was supposed to be about Draco. He looked up at the pale, handsome face; Draco looked as if there was a battle going on inside him with no clear winner.

“Draco, tell me something,” he said tiredly, getting to his feet and crouching in front of Draco, taking his hands. “Do you want to feel something in regards to your parents? Because I think that you’re trying to distract me from the real issue here; this is supposed to be about you and YOUR parents, not me. I think you’re hiding behind your anger, but if you want me to push you, I can. I just need some reassurance from you that it’s what you want or need. Please, love, can you give me that?” For a second, Draco’s eyes shone with something other than indifference.

“Do something,” he whispered hoarsely. “Do anything. Please, just make me feel.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry grabbed Draco’s chin in his hands and kissed him punishingly. He was rough and forceful, taking charge like he did in the bathroom, but more so, because Draco asked him to. It also freed Harry, since he didn’t have time to second guess himself on whether he was doing the right thing. He focused solely on Draco, and he followed his instincts, even though he didn’t have a lot of actual experience to draw from.

“Get up, Malfoy,” he growled, hauling Draco up. His last name just rolled off of Harry’s tongue without thinking. When he looked around, there was a large bed on the other side of the room. He gave Draco a rough shove, commanding him to go to the bed. Draco stumbled but complied. Harry unfastened his school robes and peeled down to his boxers, dropping all of the clothing into a crumpled heap on the floor. Draco sat on the edge of the bed and looked back at him, his jaw dropping. This was better than any fantasy he had ever had. The Boy Who Lived was next to naked in front of him.

Draco’s fingers unconsciously went to the front of his robe, and he peeled off the black garment, mesmerized by Harry’s unblinking gaze and sensual walk. Harry pushed him back onto the bed and slowly unbuttoned Draco’s shirt, leaving it open on his chest, and continued right down to his pants. He carefully straddled Draco’s hips and grasped the belt buckle; with a swift yank, he pulled it free from Draco’s trousers, and it whipped through the air, landing on the bed beside them. Draco bit his lip, groaning, and then Harry divested him of his shirt, tie, and got up momentarily to remove Draco’s pants and underwear, as well as his own boxers.

Draco’s pale wand of flesh bobbed lightly, and Harry stared at the naked boy in front of him hungrily. He bent his head, taking the tip of Draco’s cock into his mouth and sucked. Draco cried out in pleasure as he experienced the hot, wet cavern of Harry’s mouth for the first time, and his hands twisted into Harry’s black hair as he tried to thrust down his lover’s throat. Harry gagged the first time and pulled completely off of Draco’s cock. Before the blonde could protest, Harry pushed Draco’s lower torso, rolling him onto his side, and proceeded to give him a couple of smacks on his exposed arse, loving the way his hand left a pink imprint on the porcelain skin.

Without giving Draco any time to think, Harry spread his legs and flicked his tongue over the base of Draco’s cock. He wrapped his lips around Draco’s sac, running the flat of his tongue over the wrinkly skin, and sucked lightly before pulling back and licking them experimentally. Draco’s muscles tensed, and he trembled slightly, not daring to cry out. Harry bit the inside of his thigh, and he let his hand drift from jacking Draco’s cock to palming his balls and farther back.

“You said you wanted to feel, so you’re going to feel me inside of you,” Harry told him; Draco’s eyes widened, and he nodded his agreement. Harry crawled up Draco’s body, rutting against the pale, upturned hip, and hungrily took Draco’s mouth again. Harry’s lips worked against Draco’s, listening to the soft moans Draco made as he thrust his hips gently against the inside of Harry’s left knee. He pulled away, staring breathlessly down at his favorite blonde, and then he glanced around. A jar of lubrication was sitting on the bed, waiting for him. Harry extended his arm, making Draco hiss in appreciation of his lean torso muscles contracting, and suddenly Draco’s mouth was sucking on one of Harry’s nipples. Harry froze, arm slightly bent with the lubricant in his hand, moaning as Draco licked and nibbled on the sensitive buds of his chest. His other hand twined into Draco’s hair again, holding the back of the blonde’s head supportively, and he let Draco kiss across his chest before he pulled Draco’s head back by his hair, planting another fierce kiss right on those thin lips.

Harry scrambled off of Draco, pushing him into position—on his elbows and knees on the bed—with Harry kneeling beside him. He lubed up a finger and tentatively probed the space between Draco’s arse cheeks, finding the small opening. With his other hand, he stroked down the pale back as he wiggled his finger into the oh-so-tight ring of muscle, pushing as gently as he could, and he heard Draco’s surprised gasp as he was penetrated. Harry pushed harder until his finger was sheathed completely in Draco’s tight channel, and then the blonde whimpered. He froze, keeping his finger still, and moved his other hand to Draco’s hair, petting him comfortingly.

“Are you okay, baby?” He whispered, hoping he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Feels…weird,” Draco gasped back. “Need a…minute…please…get used to it…”

“Of course, love,” Harry leaned forward to plant a kiss on Draco’s shoulder blade. He waited until the pale hips began wiggling back and forth experimentally, pushing against his finger. Then he moved it in and out, hesitantly at first, but after Draco thrust his bum against Harry’s hand, he added more lubricant and a second finger, earning another gasp of pain and pleasure as Draco’s anal muscles were being stretched more than ever before, but not as much as they would be. He plunged his two fingers into that wonderfully tight hole over and over again. Draco sped up, matching his pace, and then Harry scissored his fingers, trying to open the puckered rosebud enough to take his tool.

“Harry, do it,” Draco whispered. “I want you to be the first. Not him; not her. You.” Harry nodded, pulling his fingers from Draco’s body. He moved into position behind the blonde, spreading Draco’s arse cheeks and placing the tip of his stone hard cock at Draco’s opening. Harry slicked some more lubricant onto his cock, not able to help the shivering that went through his body as he touched himself. Taking a firm grip on the base of his cock with one hand and grasping Draco’s hip with the other, Harry pressured the head of his swollen member into that waiting hole. He couldn’t help the gasps and moans that escaped his lips as Draco’s muscles expanded to engulf the entire mushroom head of his prick, and beneath him, Draco clenched the sheets tightly and cried out in both pain and pleasure.

Harry balanced on his knees, both hands on the pale hips now, fighting his arousal back down to a manageable level. He carefully pushed all the way in; since the largest part of his prick was already inside, the lubricant made the rest of the entry easy and slick. Sheathed completely inside of Draco, Harry’s breath sped up, and he had to take another moment. He could feel the blonde trembling beneath him, but Harry was quivering too. Instinctively, he pulled out and thrust back in, moaning as the tight hotness of Draco’s channel slid along the length of his shaft.

Draco arched his back, holding tightly to the sheets as Harry began to pump into him. There was a gloriously slow burn that began, and it hurt. The blonde didn’t even notice that he was shaking, at first, and tears coursed down his cheeks, unbeknownst to Harry. Sobs wracked Draco’s body, but the noises Harry was making overshadowed his own, and then suddenly Harry struck a new spot in Draco that nullified all of the pain, flashing white-hot pleasure all through his body.

Harry could tell that he had done something right when Draco jolted beneath him. The blonde began to chant softly, and Harry had to strain to hear his words, but they sent him pounding faster into Draco, battering his prostate.

“Yes, Harry, right there! Only you…the first…right there…only you! No one else; I love you, Harry! I love you!” The words spilled out of Draco’s mouth, and the feelings that accompanied being open with his emotions flooded through Draco, making him cry harder. Harry unexpectedly changed gears, gripping Draco’s hips tighter and thrusting fast and hard into his arse. Draco could hear Harry’s grunting, and he knew the Gryffindor had to be close. He dropped his head onto the sheets, feeling his own orgasm welling up; here was his catharsis, and he finally gave voice to what he had only thought before. Harry was too far gone to hear his words, but Draco mumbled them into the bed.

“Fuck you, Father! I hate you! I hate you both! I hate you, Mother! Why did you have to join up with him? Why did you give me this awful choice? I hate you both! I FUCKING HATE YOU!” Draco’s cock pulsed, and he came violently, choking on his tears and his last sentence that was screamed at the headboard. His entire body clenched as he flooded the bed with his seed, and the tight squeeze made Harry’s eyes cross as his pace faltered. He released into Draco, head thrown back, screaming Draco’s name.

It was several minutes before Harry came back to consciousness, still pushed hard against Draco’s bum, sweating, panting, and glassy-eyed. The only sounds in the room were his own harsh breathing and Draco’s quiet sobbing. Harry’s eyes grew wide when he realized that the blonde was crying, and he pulled out, alarmed. A hand reached back and fumbled for his own, pulling him down to lay on the bed, and Draco couldn’t bear to look at him. The Slytherin merely put his head onto Harry’s sweaty chest, and Harry automatically enfolded his arms around his lover. Draco’s last words suddenly came back to Harry, and he was utterly confused. If Draco hated him, why was he wanting to cuddle? The blonde was still muttering brokenly in between sobs, and Harry caught the words ‘mother’, ‘father’, ‘stupid decision’, and ‘hate’. That’s when he realized that Draco was talking to his parents, not him, and he squeezed the boy tighter. Harry choked up himself, wryly smiling that he had accomplished his goal of making Draco feel, and he suspected that the blonde needed this release.

* * * * *

Draco cried for what felt like, to him, an eternity; meanwhile, a few tears leaked out of the steady emerald eyes that gazed down at him lovingly. Harry didn’t say anything; he just held Draco and let the blonde cry it out. He shed a few tears of his own, thinking about Draco’s situation, and it made him want to kill Lucius and Narcissa. Of course, that brought about thoughts of James and Lily, but Harry was sure that his parents would never have put him in the predicament that Draco was being forced into. It made Harry sick, and he silently swore to protect Draco from his own parents.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Draco pulled away, sniffling and sheepish. Harry gave him a loving glance and ran the back of his knuckles over Draco’s tear streaked cheek. Draco closed his eyes and leaned into the caress, and Harry sat up, careful not to startle the blonde, and gently kissed his forehead.

“Harry, I’m sorry.”

“Draco, I love you.” They both looked at each other, smiling again. “I guess that’s going to become our new mantra,” Harry snorted softly.

“I love you too,” Draco replied. “Sorry about getting all emotional…”

“You needed it, love,” Harry stared into his red-rimmed grey eyes. “Don’t ever be sorry for feeling.” The blonde nodded, sitting up completely and swiping at his blotchy face. Draco’s bum was tender, and he winced, getting up and feeling Harry’s seed trickle from him as he stood. He excused himself quickly, heading to the bathroom the Room so graciously provided. On his way back to bed, Draco paused to get his wand and his underwear. He cast a Cleaning Charm on the sheets and then tossed Harry’s boxers to him. The Gryffindor put them on, his emerald eyes never leaving Draco’s lithe form as the blonde pulled on his own underwear. Harry happily pulled Draco back into his arms, smiling as a soft sigh of contentment escaped Draco’s lips.

“Sweetheart, what happened at dinner?” His tanned hands stroked over Draco’s arm and shoulder comfortingly as he posed his question. Harry remembered one of the last things they had to talk about. He felt bad for bringing it up right away, but he thought they should get everything out now. Draco puzzled out Harry’s meaning, remaining silent for a few minutes, until he realized what the black-haired boy was talking about.

“Harry, please understand,” Draco rose up on his elbow and looked at Harry seriously. “I’m from a very unemotional, undemonstrative, stoic family. Showing emotion period is a sign of weakness, and you know I don’t believe that anymore…but it’s one thing to snog in public, and completely another to be caught dead to rights in the middle of arousal…by McGonagall, no less!” Draco made a face. “I mean, I love snogging you and all, but it’s just that old habits die hard. Forgive me?”

Harry nodded, pecking Draco’s cheek, and then lips, and then the pecks turned into soft presses as Harry coaxed several sweet kisses from Draco. The blonde’s arm tightened around Harry’s torso, and Harry tangled his hand in Draco’s hair. They had just scarcely finished, so neither of them were in the cusp of lust, and they ended their impromptu snogging session before it could develop. It had been a VERY long day, and they were both exhausted, mentally and physically, but sated and happier than either could ever remember. They whispered ‘good night’s and ‘I love you’s, and they fell asleep, Draco’s cheek resting on Harry’s chest near his collarbone, and Harry leaning his head against the silky, pale blonde locks.
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Author's note--Alright, what did you think? I know, weird, but hey, it got them shagging.

WeasleyWench--Nah, it's okay. I'm just giving you a hard time. *grin* Thank you for your words! That means a lot to me! And fun smut? Of course! Well, if by "fun" you mean "angsty" then, of course. THEY might not have had that much fun, but I sure had fun writing it! lmao

hilfreak--Thanks. I was hoping that the whole thing with Hermione would adequately distract Ron and make him more tolerable towards Draco, so hopefully this will come to pass.

BAH! Sixteen Candles?!?!?!??!! OMG that is SUCH an 80's movie!!! You should write that! (And if you do, can John Cusack still keep his character and they have a threesome? LMAO)

thrnbrooke--Thanks! Yeah, I wanted Draco to understand and react differently, but that didn't seem to be the case, no matter how hard I tried to convince him!

dont bite the sun--Yay, I'm so glad you liked the roles everyone played! That means a lot to me! *gasp* Harry/Draco sap and hot kinky sex??? We are SO on the same wave length! haha And thank you for your kind words about the bathroom scene! I do have to have happy endings, so even when something bad happens, I make up for it with something else good.