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No Walls Around My Heart	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3640 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the end of No Walls Around My Heart. Thanks for reading along.
            “Hi, you lot. Thanks for coming.”
            Harry hugged Hermione, then solemnly shook hands with Ron and Hugo. Rose had nodded to him and slipped past him to examine the illustrations of books Draco had put up on the walls of the entrance hall. Harry knew Draco had done it specifically for Rose, but since no one would believe that and Draco would deny it if confronted, Harry just stood there and watched in silent enjoyment as Rose watched them.
            Only six years old and she’s already so much like her mum.
            “Do tell me there’s something other than sugar here,” Hermione whispered to him. She sounded weary already. “Molly spent yesterday filling Rose and Hugo full of biscuits when they were over at her house.”
            Harry blinked. “I thought Rose wasn’t as bad as Hugo when it came to reacting to sugar.”
            “Most of the time.” Hermione looked at her daughter over Harry’s head, her face a little grim. “But when she gets quiet like this and stares instead of asking questions…it means it’s right before the danger period begins.”
            Harry chuckled and turned around. “Did you want some lunch?” he called to Hugo.
            “Cake!”
            “No, not yet,” said Harry. “Vegetables first. And all the fruit you want. And some bread and butter.” He looked back at Hermione for a moment. He had thought she might get upset about butter as well, although in general she was only her parents’ daughter when it came to sugar.
            Hermione snorted and waved her hand. “Compared to what they’ve been eating? That’s more than all right.” She then turned to Ron and lowered her voice, and Harry heard what he suspected was the edge of a long-running argument. “Ron, you really need to tell your mother to…”
            Harry hurried Rose and Hugo out of the room and into the kitchen, and not just because he didn’t want them to hear the arguments that their parents always had about how much Molly spoiled the kids. Harry didn’t need to hear it, either. It was the one running sore in Ron and Hermione’s marriage, and Harry was tired of their attempts to get him to take sides.
            “Here we are!” Harry sang, and settled Rose and Hugo at the kitchen table. The house-elves had covered up the cake or moved it; Harry didn’t know which one, and frankly, that was all right with him. “Snazzy!”
            The kids’ favorite house-elf popped up with silver banners hanging from his ears, bowing again and again with a beaming smile all over his face. “Snazzy is having nice food for young Master and Mistress Weasley!” he said, and clapped his hands. There was a puff of purple smoke—which Harry knew very well the house-elves never needed to make food appear; that was all a show for Rose and Hugo—and a huge mound of sliced fruit and vegetables appeared in the middle of the table.
            Harry hid a smile. Even Hugo’s whining for cake calmed in the face of that mound. The colors of the sliced berries and carrots and lettuce and all the rest of it shone like the cake, and sometimes Harry thought that was all little kids wanted: something shiny to impress them.
            Draco came in then, with an oblique glance at Harry. Harry knew what it meant. People were supposed to eat outside, at the tables that Draco and the elves had carefully set up.
            Harry looked calmly back. Draco wasn’t the one who would have had to deal with Rose and Hugo being hungry until they got out there.
            Draco sniffed in response and turned to helping Harry entertain the children. Harry hid another smile. They knew each other that well now, they could know what the other one was saying and communicate without words.
            It hadn’t always been that way, of course.
*
            Harry knew that he liked kissing Malfoy—Draco, as he usually thought of him now. He also knew that he was blazingly, fragilely happy around him, and he didn’t want that happiness to go away.
            But dear Merlin, Draco was being such a git right now.
            “I don’t know why you can’t tell them to leave you alone.”
            Harry stared at the ceiling and waited for some kind of inspiration to come to him that would tell him how to handle his angry boyfriend. It didn’t. In the end, Harry had to turn around and put the best smile he could on his face.
            “Because they want to see me. They didn’t get to see me over the Christmas holidays, since they went home. We were here. We spent all our time together. I promise, Draco, I’m not going to suddenly change my mind and run off with Ron, whatever impression you might have got from that prank.”
            Draco sulked, his face turned steadily away from Harry, his eyes on the far wall. Harry shook his head finally, and stood up. “I’m going to the library to meet Ron and Hermione, then,” he said.
            Draco’s shoulders hunched.
            “You’re welcome to come with me,” Harry offered, even though he’d also made that offer before, and it hadn’t changed anything. Draco kept saying that he didn’t want to watch Harry spend time around his friends. He wanted Harry all to himself, and he thought he could only do that in the privacy of their room.
            Draco hunched further.
            Harry finally sighed, made sure he had all his books in his bag, and started to walk out the door.
            “If you walk away from me, we’re through.”
            Harry halted, but he didn’t turn around. He spent a moment working through that, considering what it implied, that Draco would give him an ultimatum like that. Then he nodded and said, “Okay. If that’s your choice.”
            “Harry!”
            Harry turned around, just in time to catch Draco, who was sprinting towards him. Draco grabbed him, and Harry grunted and staggered and tried to keep from falling over. He did end up dropping his bag with all his books, loudly enough that someone thumped on the wall and called an irritated sound down the corridor.
            Harry put his hands awkwardly over Draco’s shoulders. Draco was whispering again and again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry…”
            “That’s not what I wanted to do,” Harry sighed into his ear. “And I didn’t mean to make you have to abase yourself to me to apologize. It’s just—I do want to spend time with my friends, Draco. And you can come with me or you can stay here. It’s really your choice. But I can’t just give up time with them to stay with you.”
            Draco’s shoulders tightened, and he looked up with such a devastated face that Harry thought he would pull back and tell Harry to go on. But instead, he said, “I’m being pathetic.”
            “You want me to stay with you. I understand.” Harry didn’t want to lose Draco, either. He tried to say that, but ended up with, “I really want to be with you. I just—I don’t want to give up everyone else to have you. Would you want to give up your family?”
            Draco flinched a little, maybe at the thought that his family would object as hard to Harry as Harry’s friends might to Draco, although Harry knew that was certainly true. Then he stepped back and nodded. “I’m going with you to the library. It’s just—do I have to apologize?”
            “You have to not interrupt them and not insult them,” Harry told him. “That’s all. Be as reasonable and polite as you would with most other people.”
            “What happens if they insult me?”
            “Then I’ll tell them to stop,” Harry said firmly. “And they will. Or I’ll walk away from them and wait until they apologize.” He paused when he saw how stricken Draco’s face looked. “What is it now?” If anything, he would have thought Draco wanted to be defended from Ron.
            “I don’t want to make you lose your friends, either,” Draco whispered. “That’s the opposite of what I want to do. I want to make you more happy, not less.”
            Harry gently reached out and petted his hair. Draco leaned into him with a sigh. “And that proves why I want to be with you,” he said gently. “But I want you to be happy too, Draco. Not always feeling like you come second to Ron and Hermione. And I know I won’t have to wait long for them to apologize. If nothing else, Hermione would probably make Ron do it before we could even get out of the library.”
            Draco gave a wobbly smile, but he didn’t seem convinced. Harry sighed a little; he supposed this was something that only experience would persuade Draco of. “Come on, then,” he said, and led the way to the library.
            All the way there, he kept one arm wrapped securely around Draco’s shoulders, and only raised an eyebrow when they got to the library and Ron looked at him with a dubious expression. And Ron didn’t make a fuss, and Hermione went on wrapping Draco into their study session as if he’d been there all along.
            Halfway through the study session, she did ask Harry to stop humming. Harry hadn’t even known he was doing it. He was that happy.
*
            “Hullo, Malfoy.”
            Draco gravely shook Percy Weasley’s hand. He had already decided that he would probably never be able to get Percy to refer to him by his first name, although Percy didn’t seem to mind when Draco did it to him. But that didn’t matter. Percy was always scrupulously polite and wanted to know what was happening in Draco’s life, and that was more than Draco could say for some of the people who pretended to be closer to him.
            “Hello, Percy. How are things going in the Ministry?”
            Percy always shook his head and clucked over the Ministry like a hen with a bunch of stupid chicks, and he did it now. “You wouldn’t believe some of the laws they want to pass. If they imagine—Lucy!”
            Draco turned around. Percy’s younger daughter had toddled up to the sides of the bower—as Draco kept annoyingly calling it in his head since Harry had called it that—and started pulling some of the white roses off. Draco gently spelled the roses free and wound them higher up, where Lucy couldn’t touch them. They still had thorns, because it made them easier to thread through the wood. At least Lucy hadn’t had the chance to stab herself before Percy caught her.
            “I’m sorry about that,” said Percy magisterially as his wife, Audrey, a shy woman with auburn hair whom Draco hadn’t ever heard speak in full sentences, came forwards to scoop up Lucy. “If I’d known she was going to do that, I would have stopped her.”
            This time, he was shaking his head over his own daughter instead of the Ministry. Draco found it mildly funny, but he didn’t want Percy to think he was really angry. “No harm done. At least she didn’t stab herself.”
            “That might have taught her to keep her hands to herself,” Percy muttered, but he quieted under the glare his wife gave him. Audrey wasn’t nearly as stern with her children.
            “She’s a child,” Draco said, smiling to ease the tension. “I don’t expect perfect behavior.”
            Shrieks came from the back of the Manor, and Draco turned around. He knew Harry would be glad to see him and have some companions for Rose and Hugo, who were trying for a platoon of adults. “Do you want to sit down? I can take Lucy and Molly to the back.”
            “No, no, we’ll accompany you,” said Percy, waving his hand. “And I can’t imagine that you’re much interested in reports on the Ministry, Malfoy. What are you up to these days?”
            Draco talked about his days in polite detail until they reached the back of the Manor. Yes, Harry was with Rose and Hugo, looking martyred. When he raised his head, his eyes fixed on Draco gladly, and his mouth twitched a little.
            Draco smiled and deliberately moved a little to the side as he led Lucy and Molly to join the fun, letting Harry see his profile and the line of his hip. Then he looked back at Harry and smirked at the heat in his eyes.
            It was even more fun to tease Harry when he knew he was doing it.
*
            “Will you please stop doing that? You’re driving me crazy!”
            “What?” Draco raised his head and stared at Harry. They’d been silent pretty much the majority of the evening, concentrating on their separate books. Draco had a NEWT in Arithmancy to study for, which Harry didn’t. Harry was concentrating on Charms.
            “You really don’t know you’re doing it?” Under Draco’s blank look, Harry groaned and flopped back on the bed. “Great. You didn’t. And now I’m the one who looks like a pervert for bringing it up.”
            “I can’t tell what’s supposed to be perverted if you don’t actually tell me,” Draco said. He knew he sounded petty, but he was genuinely irritated. Harry acted as though he was so inconvenienced by something he didn’t know Draco was doing, then he wouldn’t even tell him about it so Draco could stop?
            Unless he doesn’t actually want me to stop.
            “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
            Harry was looking away from him, flushing. Draco tried to remember the various things he’d been doing that day, and which ones might get a strong reaction. He sucked on his bottom lip, and saw Harry snap to attention.
            Draco grinned. He had to grin. “Really?” he asked, and arched his neck back a little so Harry could get a better view of his lip. He paused, and he saw from Harry’s half-open mouth and dilated eyes that he was waiting. Then he began to suck again.
            Harry was across the room in a second, and Draco’s Arithmancy book fell in a clatter of pages that meant at least some were probably bent. Draco couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment, even if a relevant equation was torn.
            Harry pushed himself onto Draco and Draco onto the bed, and rolled on top of him, kissing furiously. Draco gladly went with that, and with the way Harry pulled off their clothes—roughly, Draco almost choking when the collar caught around his neck—and with the way that Harry reached for his wand.
            But he did gasp a little when Harry waved the wand and he felt a sharp sensation in his arse that became a soft, wet one. Draco squirmed and lifted his legs, trying to peer underneath himself, and Harry caught one of his knees, staring down at him.
            “Are you going to be okay with this?” he asked softly.
            “I’ve never done it before, so I don’t know.”
            Draco was only telling the truth, but it made Harry’s face soften and gleam and glow in the way that nothing else could have, Draco thought. Harry nodded once and gently scooped up Draco’s legs so he was holding them off to the sides. Then he shuffled back and got a pillow and slid it underneath Draco.
            “Okay?” he whispered when he got up near him.
            “Put some lube on your cock, too,” Draco muttered. He could barely get out the words without sounding like a bee buzzing, he thought, weak and pathetic. But he knew they had to do this much. He’d read that much in some of the books he’d been sneaking out of the library since he and Harry started dating.
            “Right.”
            Harry was blushing like a Weasley as he reached down and coated his cock. And then he was rocking back and forth and keening like a Weasley—not that Draco wanted to imagine that, and he was trying not to—trying not to come. Draco knew he laughed, and knew from Harry’s look that Harry would make him pay for it.
            But he didn’t care. That payment was likely to be the pleasantest form of punishment he could imagine.
            Harry at last began to ease forwards with his fingers. So he’d read the right books, too. Draco lay back and closed his eyes, then flinched and hissed when Harry’s fingers first slid in. But he clamped down when Harry tried to take his hand back, and shook his head without opening his eyes.
            “You’re doing fine,” he said.
            So Harry did it again, and seemed to be growing steadily more confident. Draco could even enjoy the sensation of multiple fingers opening him.
            But when Harry began to slide his cock into him for the first time, Draco did hiss and flinch and tense. It was nothing he’d planned on, it just happened, and Draco felt bad for it when he saw the way Harry paused above him and stared at him in concern.
            “Should I pull out?”
            Draco shook his head and hooked his heels behind Harry’s hips, although they promptly slid off again, tugging at him. “Come on. There’s going to be some good feeling to make up for what you just inflicted on me, right?”
            Harry smiled abruptly and began to move again. Draco set himself to endure as Harry slid further and further into him, as his muscles clenched and rebelled and cramped and settled down again, and then as Harry began to move smoothly in and out.
            Pleasure came sooner than Draco had expected. First searing pleasure that was like the pain Harry had caused him turned into happier heat, and Harry chuckled and thrust harder. “Found your prostate!” he said happily.
            “Yes, yes, you’re so clever,” Draco said, rolling his eyes, but he closed them in the next second. Harry was driving into him, and managing to hit Draco’s prostate most of the time like the git-naturally-talented-at-fucking that he was, and it was rocking Draco’s bed and mind and whirling thoughts.
            He did manage to get a grip on Harry’s arms at some point (he found the bruises the next morning). But it slipped away, and then everything slipped away, lost to the relentless whirl consuming Draco, like a two-edged maelstrom slipping down his body and up to his groin and down again to his head, and when it extended all through his body, Draco came.
            He missed the moment of Harry’s coming, but when he opened his eyes and saw Harry still lying dazed and exhausted on his chest, he thought that was all right. He would have a lot more opportunities to see it.
*
            “Draco?”
            Harry rounded the corner into the kitchen, curious. Even though the gardens were full of Weasleys now and so Draco might avoid them for a bit, Harry would have thought he’d want to be there for the toasts and the presentation of the cake.
            Draco was standing in front of the table where the cake had rested earlier, running his fingers over something. Harry came up to him and stopped. Draco was touching the silver ring Harry had presented him with at the end of their final year at Hogwarts. Harry had sneaked into Hogsmeade and bought it for him as a surprise. It had a moonstone as the sole ornament. Harry had thought a diamond would be too serious, hadn’t been sure what else to choose, and had decided to pick something that looked interesting.
            “Draco?” Harry made his voice gentle. “The cake is waiting. And so are the kids.”
            Draco looked up. His eyes and hair made him look almost ethereal, beautiful and shimmering, about to fly away, like the moonstone. He stretched out his hand, and Harry walked up to him without hesitation and leaned against him as Draco kissed him, stroking his back.
            Harry could feel Draco’s ring pressing against his back and his own ring, purchased a day later and with an opal instead of a moonstone, brushing against Draco’s nape as they kissed.
            “Yes,” Draco said. “Let’s go out and face them. Together.”
            “You make it sound as if they were dragons instead of Weasleys,” Harry murmured, but he was smiling as he turned Draco around and led him out the door.
*
            Harry woke with a start. It was late at night, he knew, since the fire had burned down to an ember. The house-elves would come in to tend it, but not until midnight, when they usually made the round of all the new rooms that the castle had added.
            Harry eased back and stretched his spine until it cracked. Then he looked down at Draco, and reached out to stir a hand through his hair.
            Draco slept easily, innocently, his lips slightly parted and his breathing a soft whistle. Harry knew, looking at him, that no one else would ever have decided that he was once an evil git rather than Harry’s lover.
            And my love.
            Harry touched Draco’s head again, and watched Draco stir and open his eyes to look at him. His face was filled with soft contentment.
            “Good morning,” Draco whispered.
            Even though it was the wrong time of day, Harry thought, It really is.
            The End.
*
     Severus1snape: Thank you!
     SP777: That kind of formatting is annoying to read for me.
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No Walls Around My Heart