Light of Heaven | By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 28741 -:- 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. |
See chapter one for ratings, summary and other details.
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"Now, since Poppy's given you both a clean bill of health after the shock of yesterday's revelations, I'll take you to see your new quarters. I'm sure you're quite tired of the hospital wing. It's becoming more difficult to deter curiosity seekers, as well," Dumbledore told the boys the next morning after breakfast.
"Will we have to leave our Houses completely, then?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore's face softened. "No, Mr. Potter. You'll still be associated with your respective Houses, but I doubt very much that you'll be able to spend enough time apart from each other before graduation to be able to move back into your own dorms. In a few months, due to the other matters we discussed yesterday, I don't believe you'll wish to, anyway." Harry and Draco remained silent on that point, although they still hadn't fully accepted their fate. "We'll even have to juggle your classes so that you can have them together. We will all meet with your Heads of House for that task." He then grinned, and continued. "And now, let's go see where you're going to be living for the next few years! The house elves should already have your belongings there."
Professor Dumbledore had chosen a time during classes, so the boys wouldn't be subjected to a lot of staring, gossiping and finger-pointing, for which both Harry and Draco were duly grateful. They were led through several hallways, a few of which were obviously rarely used, and a couple of secret passages, as well. In one hallway hung a pastoral painting of a picnic scene. (It turned out that their destination could be arrived at without all of that, but the walk would be much longer.) The portrait was of a dark-haired lad semi-reclining on the grass beside a picnic laid out on a multi-coloured blanket, gazing dreamily at slowly-scudding clouds through the boughs of a large elm tree, while three of his peers played far in the background next to a large lake - the same lake Hogwarts now resided upon. The cloth the picnic was set out on was done in a squares pattern of four colours; saffron, baby blue, sea green, and a very muddy yellow. It was this painting in front of which Dumbledore stopped, bringing Harry and Draco to a halt as well. He took out his wand, touched both a sea-green and a saffron square, and said "Light of Heaven." There was a click, then the painting swung aside to reveal a door. Instead of opening it right away, Dumbledore closed the painting once again, then turned to the boys.
"In order to keep this room as secure as possible, there have been several protection charms placed upon it, and a charmed key is needed to open the door. What you just saw me do will be what anyone but the two of you will need to do. Since you're going to be in and out of here fairly often, it might become somewhat inconvenient for you to go through that procedure every time - especially if you need access quickly in order to find refuge. Mr. Malfoy, put your hand on the sea-green square I indicated, please, and Mr. Potter, the same with the saffron square I touched, then say the password." Once they had complied, he incanted "Famen Cautus Cultus." Harry and Draco felt a slight tingle in their hands, and jerked back in alarm. The boy in the portrait had stopped looking at the clouds to watch the proceedings, and winked at them. "Don't worry, boys," Dumbledore laughed, "the wards now know you and your voices, and will allow you entry with only the password. All others who wish entry can do so only with your permission, or if they know how to pass the other security precautions. Only two others than I know those; Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey."
"And why isn't the head of my house allowed access?" Draco asked, coldly.
Dumbledore frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I cannot give you the answer to your question, Mr. Malfoy. Suffice it to say that Professor Snape is aware of the situation, and has given his full approval to being kept in the dark on this matter. He may, however, visit you if you wish." Then, abruptly changing the subject, he said "You will also be able to change the password at any time simply by telling the portrait to what you'd like it changed, but you will have to do so jointly. He will refuse it, else. This is to prevent pranks on each other, and to prevent one or the other of you being forced to change it while alone. Hopefully neither scenario is likely," he stopped to look meaningfully at the two arch-rivals, "but best not to take chances, eh?" He grinned. "Now, I'm sure you'd like to see your new quarters. Would one of you like to do the honours?"
In unrehearsed unity, both boys chorused "Light of Heaven," looked at each other with an air of puzzlement, then shrugged it off, though Draco was scowling slightly, as though Harry had done it on purpose to mock him.
"Who is the portrait of, Headmaster?" Harry asked.
Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore replied "You don't recognise Godric Gryffindor?" then enjoyed the look of shock on Harry's face. Draco, very deliberately, looked unimpressed.
"I presume, then, that the three in the background are Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff?" Harry said.
"Why would you presume that?" Dumbledore asked, amused.
"The picnic blanket. The colours aren't exact, but they're close."
"Quite right, Mr. Potter. In fact, the blanket colours are a mix of the two colours of each house. Therefore, a reddish saffron from Gryffindor's red and gold, sea foam green from Slytherin's green and silver, the purplish colour from Ravenclaw's blue and bronze, and that - interesting - shade of yellow from Hufflepuff's yellow and black," Dumbledore explained. "And now, shall we go in?"
Harry just stood there, looking pointedly at his headmaster. The old man looked quizzically at him, then seemed to remember. "Oh, yes. The keys. There is one for each of you, and one for Minerva, Poppy, and me. Yours have the added benefit of only needing to have them on you in order to open the door, but they are keyed to you alone." Both boys winced at the wording. Dumbledore pretended not to notice. "Don't lose them. They can't be replicated without a great deal of time and expense." They unlocked the door and went in. The room they entered, the common room, wasn't plush by any means, but it did have an air of comfort about it. The furniture was a heavy black wood, covered with thick cushions which had patterns in silver, gold, red, and green. The rugs and draperies picked up the colour scheme. It was more than a bit gaudy. A fire was burning in the fireplace.
"You've both taken Transfigurations, so you may change the decor and colour scheme as you like. I do think, however, that you should agree upon what changes to make before you make them, for the sake of peace and harmony."
Dumbledore then continued their conversation, or rather his discourse, from outside, as though nothing else had happened or had been said between-times. "Of course, since you'll be using these rooms for the foreseeable future, you have the option of continuing to carry your keys, or having yours enchanted into some portion of your anatomy. If you choose that option, I recommend just inside the pelvic bone. Extremities can be removed." Then, as though he hadn't just planted a mental bomb in their imaginations, he continued. "No kitchen, but meals will be delivered," Dumbledore informed them. "The necessary and shower are through there," indicating a door just to the right of the fireplace, "and the bedroom through there," indicating the door on the left side of the fireplace. "There's a connecting door from the bedroom to the loo, as well. There's also something of a surprise; a bath. This was once a teacher's rooms. Not in recent years, however."
Bathtubs were a rarity at Hogwarts, shower stalls being the regular order of things, so having one available was a luxury usually reserved only to the Head Boy, Head Girl, the prefects bathing rooms, and for those teachers who lived on the premises and wished one. Most teachers had quarters in Hogsmeade now, though.
When Harry and Draco entered their bedroom, they found their trunks at the foot of the bed; a queen-sized canopy. One bed. Harry and Draco stood just inside the door of the bedroom, just staring at it, as the implications sank in. "You... You can't be meaning that we sleep together!" Draco protested to the headmaster.
"If you'll recall, boys," the old man replied, eyes twinkling, "you were given two beds in the infirmary. You always wound up in one. That situation is not likely to change, given the circumstances."
"But..."
"I'll leave you to get settled in, then. And I hate to mention it, but neither of you have bathed in a few days, wipe-downs notwithstanding. You're getting a bit ripe."
Draco glowered at the old man as he made his exit, and Harry blushed.
"He's right, you know," Harry said quietly. "We do rather liven up the atmosphere."
"I'm not getting naked with you, Potter."
"I'm not too fond of the idea myself, but do we really have a choice?" Harry replied. It was a half-truth. He really wanted to see his bondmate's assets, but was sure he'd die of embarrassment to be in the situation they were about to face.
"I hate you when you're right. Alright, let's just get this over with, then." 'Gave up just a little easily there, didn't you?' came a little voice in Draco's head. 'I do not want to see Harry naked!' Draco protested to himself. 'So who said anything about "Harry" being naked, and why are you sweating? Not a little hot and bothered by the thought, are we?' Draco's argument with himself was interrupted.
"Um... How are we going to handle this?" Harry puzzled. 'Draco's looking a little flushed. I wonder... Pish-posh! Couldn't be.'
Draco gave Harry a quizzical frown. "You get wet, and wash, Potter," he said sarcastically. 'I have to keep him at a distance!' Draco thought, frantically.
Harry didn't say anything to the sarcasm; just raised their linked hands.
"Oh. Well... Um... Right!" as a solution struck the blond. "There is a bath, right? Sitting down, we could just touch feet while we bathe."
"Yes, that should work," Harry said thoughtfully, but with unvoiced misgivings. He could feel the bond getting stronger, and his attraction to the smaller lad was likewise much stronger.
"Well, it's not going to get any better by putting it off, Potter," Draco sneered. "Let's get this over with."
"Will you bloody well stand still?!" Draco demanded, panting in frustration.
They had been trying for the past five minutes to get undressed, only to find that their wayward hands kept getting entangled with each other.
"How did we manage to get dressed in the first place, in order leave the infirmary?!" Harry asked, in an equal state of frustrated dishabille.
"I don't remember! I was thinking of too many other things!" Draco exclaimed.
"Same here."
"Oh, that's bloody brilliant, that is," Draco replied, sarcastically.
"I think we need to calm down before we wind up back in the infirmary again," Harry warned.
Draco glared, but said nothing.
Mind racing, Harry had an idea. "Draco..."
"What?!" Draco snapped.
"I have an idea. You're not going to like it - I don't like it much - but I can't think of anything else, right now." Another half-truth, but what he had in mind should work, anyway.
"Anything's better than this, Potter. I'm not going to remain smelling like some dregs out of the gutter," the usually-fastidious Draco replied.
"You're exaggerating. Anyway," Harry took a deep breath before racing through the rest of his thought. "if we touch cheeks, we'll be able to have our hands free."
Draco stared. "You're barmy, Potter. You know that, don't you? You actually want us to neck while we're getting undressed?"
"Can you think of anything else?"
Draco pondered. "There has to be some other way! That's too bloody poofy for words!" He'd be fucked if he was going to admit his attraction to the idea. 'No! Bad choice of words!'
Harry waited. Then he waited some more.
"The water's going to get cold, Draco."
"Oh, all right! But this does not mean that I'm giving in!"
For some reason, Harry found Draco's reaction amusing, and on a mischievous whim replied, "Of course not, honey."
"POTTER!" Draco yelled, scandalised.
Harry snickered. This might be fun, after all.
Grinning, he leaned towards the other boy.
"Just what are you up to, Potter?" Draco asked suspiciously.
"We both need to get clean, and we can't do it with our clothes on," Harry said, with mock innocence.
"No funny stuff."
"Not funny at all," Harry said seductively, blinking his eyelashes at the blond.
"I think I might like finding out what the dregs smell like," Draco said, nervously. Despite being fascinated by the dark-haired boy by his side, he didn't know how to respond to him. After over four years of watching, Harry Potter was still a mystery to him, unlike almost everyone else he'd ever come across, and this Harry Potter he'd never seen at all.
Harry laughed. "I'm just pulling your chain, you prat! Let's get clean."
Heavy distrust in his eyes, Draco complied, and with only a few other minor hurdles to jump, they were soon soaking in the tub.
Harry had very much liked what he saw when Draco undressed, and despite the Slytherin's attempts to hide as much as possible, had seen everything the blond had to offer. Harry had a difficult time keeping a certain body part from showing its appreciation of the view, but had managed by picturing his cousin Dudley in a thong. That picture managed to traumatise his libido quite thoroughly, at least for the moment.
Draco, while pretending to attend only to his own business, had been slyly peeking at Harry while they undressed, and had appreciated the view of the green-eyed boy, but refused to acknowledge it. He was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, and he refused to be manipulated, even by Mother Nature.
Mother Nature was about to get more aggressive.
Getting into the full tub while still trying to maintain modesty and keep some sort of physical contact with each other would have provided a watcher with weeks worth of grins and giggles. They didn't manage, of course, but denial can be a powerful tool. Each managed to convince himself that he'd managed to preserve his own dignity, while getting a month's worth of wanking material from the other. They settled in to soak.
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