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An Image of Lethe	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21751 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Chapter Thirty-Seven—The Rising Hours
            “I don’t think my mother will sabotage us, but I’m worried about what else she could do,” Draco finished, and laid his hand on Harry’s wrist, shifting to feel the pulse beating beneath his fingers.
            Harry had agreed to the private talk Draco had wanted, and had listened without moving. Draco began to wonder what had happened when he left with Greyback. It was Harry’s turn to answer questions now.
            He lifted his head to ask, and Harry was already there, eager to respond, his eyes seeking out Draco’s as though he’d been lonely for the sight of them. “I intended to leave on my own and go when Hermione sent me a Patronus, but Greyback was sleeping right outside my door, and I stumbled into him when I stepped out. Or maybe I didn’t, but just alerted him moving around.” Harry sighed. “It’s as difficult to fool a werewolf’s ears as his nose.”
            Draco sat up. “Why did Granger send you a Patronus?”
            “I didn’t know at first.” Harry ran a distracted hand through his hair, and stood up as if he was going to pace the room. He seemed surprised when Draco wouldn’t let go of his hand, and then pleased. He sat down again and gave him a faint smile. “It turned out that she’s having a hard time trusting me, and she wanted to meet me near the spot where the Lightfinder had exploded and—evaluate me, I suppose.”
            Draco could have said many cutting things about Gryffindor loyalty, but he knew Harry was in no mood to appreciate them. Best to leave them until he was. Instead, Draco said, as calmly as he could, “And how did that work with Greyback along?”
            “I told him that I was going to play Harry Potter to fool my friends, and that he wasn’t to attack anyone, no matter what they did or said, until I gave him a very specific hand signal.” Harry folded his fingers on his right hand down. “He kept out of sight, but I let Hermione know he was there.”
            “How?” Draco could think of few things more dangerous, when Greyback was hiding right nearby.
            Harry gave him another faint smile. “I wrote letters on my hand and held it so Greyback couldn’t see. But she had already figured out he was there. Since Greyback thought the whole thing was a deception anyway, I don’t think her spell made much difference.”
            Draco sighed. Harry looked at him, apparently waiting for the explanation of that sigh, and Draco finally gave it. “I wish there was some way we could make this less dangerous for you, but I have to admit, I can’t think of many ways.”
            Harry nodded once, slightly. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m the one who should be doing that.” He took Draco’s hand and held it tightly. “Since I’m the one who decided on this plan in the first place.”
            “Not being able to make it less dangerous doesn’t mean I can’t help,” Draco whispered. “What do you want me to do?”
            Harry hesitated, and Draco made his voice sharp. “Come on. There must be something, other than the spells I’ve been learning.”
            Harry slowly nodded. “Then you can alert Parkinson and Astoria, and make sure they’re ready to move as soon as they can. I think they ought to leave the manor when we leave, but go to whatever safehouse your parents have arranged. That way, whether we lose or win, they won’t be caught up in the chaos.”
            Draco knew what he meant—either the chaos of the Death Eaters returning and taking vengeance on anyone they thought closely allied with Harry, or the Ministry trying to sweep up all the Death Eaters they could. “Fine. What else?”
            Harry shook his head. “I really can’t think of anything else, Draco. I know what I have to do to make the reverse Lightfinder work now—”
            “Do you? What?”
            “Want one thing, overridingly.” Harry smiled, and Draco wanted to reach out and trace the smile into a more pleasant shape with one finger, but he knew he didn’t have enough power in his hands for that. “I can’t pretend to want it, or think how nice it would be to want it, or try to want it and work on that. I have to want it.” He glanced at Draco. “I already took advantage of you in that way once, when I decided that I wanted to heal your father because it would make you feel better.”
            “What way can you take advantage of me now?” Draco slid his hand around Harry’s neck. Harry kept claiming that Draco couldn’t help, but Draco had thought of one way he possibly could, if Harry would only shut up and listen to him. He would let Harry say what he had in mind first, though.
            “I’ll want to keep you safe,” Harry said quietly, and fastened his gaze on Draco. Draco’s mouth dried up before some of the implications in that expression. He ducked his head so he wasn’t meeting Harry’s gaze, because it was better for everyone concerned that way. “That’s why I have to put you in danger for at least a little while. If you aren’t, I’m not sure I can make the Lightfinder work.”
            Draco nodded. “You know I already volunteered for that. Or asked, and told you that I’d be willing to do it.” He flexed his fingers once against Harry’s nape. “Is that the only way you’re going to allow me to help?”
            “Allow you?” Harry turned his head into Draco’s hold and sighed. “I’d like to do lots of other things. I’d like you to help me in every way you can. But I honestly can’t think of any other way.”
            “I can,” Draco said, waited until Harry was looking at him, and then leaned forwards and kissed him.
            He had thought Harry might protest, but he was welcoming Draco with eager hands and mouth, his tongue yearning around Draco’s. He tried to drag them to the floor, but Draco drew back and said, “No. Not this time.”
            “All right,” said Harry. His face had settled into hard lines, and he stood up now as if he would back off.
            Draco sighed, rolled his eyes, and marched them into Harry’s bedroom before Harry could get any strange objections. He climbed onto the bed there and started taking off his clothes, relying on Harry to get the idea sooner or later.
            It seemed he did, because he made a little choke and then joined Draco on the bed. Draco started having a much harder time taking off his clothes when Harry’s hands and tongue were in the way, and he laughed into the kiss and laid Harry back, then started taking off one piece of his clothes alternating with one of Harry’s.
            Harry was too dumbstruck to help much at first, only gaping at Draco as if he was the most remarkable sight he had ever seen. Draco ducked his head and smiled under his eyelashes at Harry. He knew he wasn’t the best-looking or smartest person in the entire world, but sometimes it helped to have someone stare at him as if he was.
            Harry finally closed his mouth about the third time Draco kissed him, and started helping with the clothes. There was a growing pile of them next to the bed. Draco finally pulled down his pants too, and let Harry get in his fill of staring and gaping at his cock. Admiring it. Worshipping it, maybe.
            Harry shook his head, in response to what Draco didn’t know, and yanked down his own pants finally. Draco had seen his cock before, but it was darker this time, he thought, harder. Well, he’d kept Harry hard for longer, too. He reached out and took Harry’s cock in one hand, fingers sliding smoothly up and down it.
            Harry gave the choking noise instead. He was watching Draco intently, and Draco thought he knew what Harry was waiting for.
            “Yes,” he whispered. “We’re going to fuck this time.”
            Harry clenched one hand into a fist and reached out for his wand, fumbling. Draco waited, stroking Harry, curious. He wondered what spell Harry would use. There were several Draco knew, but he didn’t think that Harry knew or had practiced any of them.
            He wouldn’t have had much reason to practice them before he got together with me. Would he?
            Draco ducked his head to kiss Harry again, jealousy stirring in him at the thought of Harry experimenting with someone else in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Harry spluttered and said, when Draco had pulled back, “I was trying to cast the incantation there.”
            “Which one is it?” Draco gave Harry a smile he hoped was charming, while trying to figure out how he could ask whether Harry had been with anyone else before.
            Harry gave him a withering look, and muttered, apparently by way of showing him, “Olearius.”
            A second later, his fingers were slick and shimmering, and Draco was blinking in surprise. That was one he hadn’t heard of before. Maybe other Gryffindors had taught it to Harry.
            As long as those Gryffindors weren’t trying to fuck him, fine, Draco thought, and raised himself on his knees as Harry conjured some more lube and reached out towards Draco’s arse. He did have to pause on the way there because his hands were shaking so badly.
            “Something wrong?” Draco asked, in what he hoped was a mature and tolerant voice instead of one filled with impatience to see what Harry’s fingers felt like.
            “Just haven’t done this before,” Harry muttered, and cast him a look bashful enough to make Draco’s face flame by association. “Just don’t want you to laugh at me.” He swallowed. “Just don’t know what to do except in theory.”
            Ah. Draco found himself smiling before he thought about it, most of his anxiety vanishing in a rush now that he knew Harry hadn’t been sleeping around with lots of their yearmates before this. “I’ll guide you. I do know.” He sat back and up, and then turned around and pointed his arse towards Harry when he thought that angle might be better.
            “You did this a lot?”
            Harry’s hand was still and his anger suddenly hot enough to heat Draco’s skin, too. Draco sighed in delight. It was nice to be gaped at, nicer still be to be desired.
            “No,” Draco said at last, after enjoying the tormenting uncertainty for as long as he could, and holding Harry in the same sort of tension he’d experienced himself. “What I did was lots of lube spells and some fingers up the arse. I know what mine feel like. I want to know what yours feel like.”
            It seemed that was the best way he could say it, because Harry made an eager little sound that wasn’t at all like a choke this time and slid them into Draco.
            Draco arched his neck, but made himself relax and ride the sensation, no matter how unfamiliar it seemed after so long. He knew acting upset would panic Harry to the point that he would start apologizing, and God knew when they would get back to the sex.
            And it didn’t hurt so much, when Draco managed to start sinking down. Less than some of the times he’d probed himself when he was wanking. “Where did you learn this spell?” he asked, to show Harry he was still paying attention to something besides the sensation, and he only stuttered a little.
            “Read it in a book. This past week.” Harry’s words were already fracturing into harshness and silence. Draco wriggled his arse smugly, and dropped a little distance more. “I wanted—I wanted to know what I could do in terms of making it—more comfortable. For—whoever was on the bottom.”
            “You didn’t know if you wanted to be?” Draco murmured, and arched his neck further as Harry’s fingers got further and further in.
            “Been thinking of it a lot. Both ways.”
            Draco shuddered, his mind dissolving in a warm, wet rush as he thought about that. And then he drove himself down on Harry’s fingers, reminding his dissolving mind that they weren’t actually fucking yet. He had a distance to go before he would find out what Harry’s cock was like.
            Apparently, Harry was determined to make him feel every inch of that distance. His fingers probed and opened and spread apart, and Draco caught himself on his hands and knees. Then they had to shift because he was kneeling on Harry’s stomach with his hands on Harry’s legs, and Harry complained that wasn’t comfortable.
            But once Draco’s knees were on the bed again and Harry’s four fingers were back in his arse, Draco’s impatience surged again. He dropped his forehead onto his folded arms and ground his arse into Harry’s face. Harry groaned.
            “Come on, then,” Draco whispered. Leave it too long, and their chance would be gone. That conviction beat in his head, even though he didn’t want to back out of this and he didn’t think Harry would.
            Harry only nodded, as though in a daze—Draco could feel the movement of Harry’s head against his arse—and then reached under Draco and positioned him again. Draco stumbled slightly, trying to find a comfortable place for his knees, before Harry said, “Can you—can you lower yourself?”
            Draco paused, then smiled. “You find it hot, don’t you?” he whispered, moving so that he had Harry’s cock between his thighs. It felt slippery, burning. And you’re too embarrassed to say “cock,” Draco added to himself, but he didn’t think he should say that aloud yet. Maybe after Harry had satisfied both himself and Draco, and there wouldn’t be a chance of him rolling out of bed and storming out of the room
            “Yes,” Harry choked, as if ashamed of himself.
            Draco grinned and sat down, driving his arse with far more force than Harry had let Draco use when it was just his fingers. This time, though, Harry was too busy writhing and crying out to complain. Draco got to bob up, then down again, and then settle with a sigh and a shake of his head. So good.
            The thought raced around the slight burn and stretch. No pain, not really. Draco supposed there was an advantage to four fingers instead of two, and being able to do it as they liked without having to keep one eye on the door for returning roommates.
            Draco began to bob up and down at first, then force and flex and thrust himself. Harry mostly grunted behind him. Draco reached out and braced his hands on Harry’s legs, and swore he could feel the grunts traveling beneath Harry’s skin, up against his palms like a racing current of water.
            Or fire.
            It was like being surrounded, smothered, by heat. Draco bobbed up and away from Harry, and felt as though someone had fanned a cool breeze across his cheeks and forehead before pulling away. Draco opened his mouth and gulped the breeze, then sank back again and hissed as more air worked its way out of him, more cock worked its way in.
            They had a rhythm, pretty quickly, at least once Harry put his hands on Draco’s hips and stopped him “teasing,” as it suited him to put it. Draco smiled and shut his eyes, and delighted, meanwhile, in the feeling of being filled. Sometimes it was there and sometimes it went away, with the alternations of heat and coolness, and it was all wonderful.
            He wondered for a moment why he hadn’t simply thrown Harry onto the bed the minute he saw him again and started doing this. Sure, there were reasons if Draco cared to remember them, but they were all marvelously far away at the moment.
            Then Harry surged up and grabbed Draco’s hips, and then Draco was being lifted up and down more than he was lifting himself. Draco laughed in surprise, and let his head droop back until it rested on Harry’s shoulder. When he shut his eyes, the motion was much the same, and it was nice not to have to do all the work.
            Harry was bending Draco forwards now, crying out with short, muffled sounds into his ear. Draco reached back and got one arm around Harry’s neck. Now he could feel the cries through his skin again, the way he’d been able to feel the grunts, and the sounds seemed to slam into the middle of his stomach, sending him soaring.
            He knew what was coming a second before it happened, and he tried to clench down on Harry in an attempt to bring Harry with him, to share this before—
            He didn’t quite manage it. The pleasure around him snapped like a bubble, and Draco fell headlong into it, crying out himself. Harry followed so hard that it was like the fall of a stone into a pond behind Draco, with a thrust strong enough to tear Draco’s arm loose from its position.
            Not the same time, but pretty close, Draco thought, as they lay and panted on the bed, and Merlin, this was going to be uncomfortable in a second, with him bent halfway under Harry, forwards over Harry’s legs, with Harry’s knees poking at him.
            But for right now, it wasn’t.
*
            Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good. Or done so much work in a short time. The only thing he could compare it to was Quidditch, but even in Quidditch, he didn’t fly that fast or hammer his hips that hard.
            I hope not, unless you’re having sex with broomsticks, said a taut voice in his head that sounded like Hermione.
            Harry grinned and hid his sweaty face against Draco’s back. He felt wonderful, still. Lightly floating, borne over mountains. He knew he would have to wake up and deal with what was happening around them sooner or later, but “later” wasn’t “right now.”
            Draco was the one who finally stirred and reached back with one open hand. Harry searched around for a moment, and then put Draco’s wand into his hand. Draco sighed and cast the spells that Harry knew had to be done, but which still rippled unpleasantly over his skin as Draco’s magic passed. Harry shivered as the sweat disappeared.
            Draco turned around and kissed Harry. Harry reached up and tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair, sighing. The knowledge of what they would have to face was beginning to come back to him, strong enough to make him shiver again.
            “We’ll make time for a shower,” Draco whispered. “The plan can’t start until the afternoon anyway, right?”
            Harry nodded slowly. He had wanted a time when most of the Ministry workers would be there rather than at home and the chaos of the morning had lessened. Rosier had found it for him, as well as a promise that she would start spreading the rumor that Harry Potter had been seen near the Lightfinder’s platform.
            She is very useful, Harry thought, but he also still thought that he would have to use the cobra that coiled near her before long.
            “I can already feel you leaving me as you voyage into your mind,” Draco murmured, and turned towards him. His eyes were large and expressive, and he placed one hand on Harry’s cheek and gazed long and hard into his face. “Try not to do that, would you? Try to stay with me. Or at least let me follow you.”
            “I’m trying,” Harry said, and ducked his head so that his hair brushed along Draco’s fingers. “And I think you’re right, and that we’ll make time for a shower. The Death Eaters’ plans can’t start until I’m ready, and Rosier’s smart enough not to include a precise time in her rumors.”
            Draco smiled softly. “It’s going to be over one way or another,” he said. “After today.”
            Harry shuddered once. Draco felt the shudder, and his arms tightened and clamped down.
            “And you won’t be alone,” Draco said. “No matter what happens.”
            “If someone has captured me and you still have a chance to escape,” Harry said, “take it.”
            Draco snorted. “Of course. I’m not a Gryffindor.” Then, just as Harry had started to blink in cautious hope, Draco added, “It just means that I’d come back later and figure out a way to rescue you. I have to be free for that.”
            Harry leaned his forehead into Draco’s, wishing his scar was really the magical talisman so many people had once thought it was, and that he could pass some kind of protection on to Draco. “I want you to have a happy life, even if it’s without me.”
            “It won’t be. Because, one way or another, I’m going to get you out.”
            Harry sighed again and slowly disentangled himself. He knew there was no way he could get Draco to stay behind, and it would have been fatal for the plan anyway. “How about that shower?”
            Draco seemed to recognize that he hadn’t so much ended the conversation as sidestepped it, but he nodded, touched Harry’s shoulder once, and slithered out of bed. Then he paraded to the bathroom, wriggling his arse and looking back over his shoulder.
            That at least let Harry smile. He slipped out of bed, probably not as gracefully, and followed.
*
            Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, then down the nape of his neck and back again, up around his ears. Harry stood there, head bowed, shivering quietly, and even let Draco trace his eyelashes and the delicate outline of his eyelids.
            Harry was so trusting like this, and he would let Draco do whatever he wanted. Touch Harry, fuck him, stay behind, come with him. Draco had had to insist on it, and overcome those tendencies that Harry seemed to have about everyone he cared for. He only asked for their help reluctantly. He seemed to think that otherwise, they should be able to stay behind, out of danger, while he did everything.
            That kind of attitude drove Draco mental. But what mattered, really mattered, was that he was leaning against Draco like this, trusting him, and it made Draco’s head spin and his mouth water.
            “Draco?”
            “Yeah?” Draco’s voice was deeper than he remembered it being, soft and filled with a huskiness that he would be a fool to pretend wasn’t desire.
            Harry raised his head, his eyes almost luminous as he sought out Draco’s face and then smiled at him.
            “Thank you.”
            Draco leaned his cheek against Harry’s, and couldn’t say anything, because there wasn’t anything. What they had, spiraling and shaking between them, was locked and located in their heartbeats and the rush of blood along their veins.
            It seemed like a long time before the water of the shower chilled and they had to climb out. Draco watched as Harry bent to dry his own waist and legs, the way his back bent and flexed beneath old scars, and told himself that he would see Harry still flexing and breathing at the end of the day.
            No matter what he had to do to make sure of it.

*
moodysavage: I sort of agree, but Harry doesn’t!
ChaosLady: Next chapter!
SP777: Yes, he will be.
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An Image of Lethe