Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bending Time	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13905 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
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.

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Chapter Four

It was disturbing, really, when Draco realized just what had gone wrong. Who would have thought walking down a bloody hallway side by side would have caused such a huge commotion? In that moment, Draco also realized he resented two new things. Every student in the school—besides Harry—and more importantly, the hallway where all four houses converged before leading to the Great Hall. God, he hated that hallway.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but if you think—” “Get your fucking hands away from—” “Everyone calm down! Hey!” “—Bloody kill you!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing—!” “So help me, Crabbe, you will remove your wand from my throat, or I promise you, you will regret it.” Harry’s quiet voice broke through the loud rabble, everyone falling silent and staring stunned at the brunette.
There was nothing significantly different about Harry. He wasn’t looking particularly angry, and his wand was still securely in his pocket, his hands loose at his sides. Yet there was an aura of power around him that commanded attention, and as Crabbe alone was privy to, a new edge in his eyes.
Never moving his gaze from Crabbe’s face, Harry stepped forward, the lumbering boy relenting with a gasp before stumbling away hastily. “Come on, Malfoy. We’re wasting time.” Harry nodded his head towards the staircase, indicating they should go up.
Draco smiled inwardly, heat flooding his entire body. Fuck, he loved the glimpses of raw power he knew Harry kept hidden away. “I don’t know, Potter. Do you imagine they’ll kill each other if we start acting civil?”
Harry turned fully, eyes jumping from Ron and Seamus, to the fourth year Slytherins and the kids gathering behind them all. The whole lot of them looked rather murderous, except the handful of Ravenclaws strategically standing at the edge of the group. And Dean, but Dean hardly ever got angry.
“If they want to act like idiots, than that’s their problem. Let’s get out of here before it gets too late. I’ve already missed enough Potions work as it is.”
Draco strolled over to where Harry was standing, smirking impishly. “I bet it would be a fun show. Come on and shake my hand; I bet they’ll start hexing everything in sight.”
Harry caught the way Draco was looking at him, just like he had back in the library before he had pounced. Pulse speeding up, he smirked back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I would, but I wouldn’t want to catch anything.”
Draco narrowed his eyes, stepping closer until he was side by side with the brunette. He causally leaned in to whisper challengingly. “Afraid to touch me, Potter?”
Harry was pretty sure that question had already been answered half an hour ago. “You have a lot more to lose than I do,” he replied quietly, not bothering to acknowledge the stares he knew were directed their way.
Draco frowned, glancing at the students watching intently. Any one of them could easily report to the wrong person, getting him in a heap of trouble with his father. Yet, the closer he got to Harry, the less he feared. “Do you think I’m afraid?”
“I don’t know what you think, remember?” Harry’s teasing smile was gone.
Draco stepped closer, and for a moment Harry thought to step back, push the blond away before he did something really stupid. But then Draco’s hands were on his face, and by the gasps he heard, Harry wasn’t imagining the sudden soft heat against his lips.
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Malfoy...” All Harry could do was stare in shock, watching the smug smile on Draco’s face slowly dissolve. He didn’t dare look away, didn’t dare try to gauge just what every other person there was thinking. Even so, it was clearly reflected in Draco’s gray eyes.
“Potter, I think I just did something really stupid,” Draco whimpered, his voice going up an octave.
“I think you might be right,” Harry agreed with a gulp, slowly grabbing the shaking hands still on his face.
The silence stretched unbearably, neither boy looking anywhere but each other. Draco wracked his mind for some way to take it all back, but no sensible solution would make itself know. Finally, Draco realized he was stuck falling back on familiar territory. “Punch me.”
“What?”
“I can’t bloody well punch you given I just did that. Punch me or they’re going to think you like me!” Draco whispered furiously.
Harry was starting to wonder why Draco kissing him was a bad idea. If the school knew Draco was his, than Harry wouldn't have to worry about anyone trying to take Draco for themselves. If Harry kissed him back...
“Potter!”
“I’m not going to punch you... err.” Harry slowly turned his gaze to the side, staring in confusion at the dark hand on his shoulder.
Dean’s calm voice broke the silence. “Listen Harry, if you’re going to wear that pheromone stuff to get the girls, fine, but don’t do it around the Veela halflings. It’s just trouble, is what it is, and I’m sure Malfoy will be right embarrassed by the whole thing.”
“Veela halflings?” Harry parroted in confusion.
“Pheromones?” Blinking, Draco gave Harry a curious look. “Isn’t that a bit, well, desperate? You’re seriously not bad looking, you know.”
“It was Seamus’s. I was just playing with—Wait a minute, you’re part Veela?” Harry yelped, red faced.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Draco yelped back, just as red.
“Well obviously something, you prat! I’m not the one who just bloody kissed his rival because of some cologne, now am I?”
“The percent is so small that I’m not even considered Veela. Do you see me jumping all over Finnigan? I can smell that shit all the way over here and it has no effect on me whatsoever. Use your bloody head, you idiot!”
Sighing in exasperation, Dean smacked both boys on their foreheads. “You’re both idiots, and you deserve the shit you’re going to get for it.” That said, he walked away, pulling a befuddled Seamus along with him.
“Harry,” Ron broke in with a confused whimper, his hands limp at his sides.
Oh hell. Seeing Ron’s dejected face, Harry figured it was time to try and make an effort to make things right. Unfortunately, no good ideas were forthcoming. So he punched Draco.
The blow was ridiculously light, a tap really. Draco stared at Harry in surprise, more concerned with the way his knees were trembling than the fact that Harry had actually punched him. Suddenly, without his consent, Draco's legs folded beneath him, and he fell in a small heap.
“Did you just tap him, and then he fell over?” Ron finally broke the growing silence, his voice a mix of confusion and amusement.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry replied weakly, staring down at Draco’s dazed face. “Malfoy, are you all right?”
Draco shook his head slowly, the world spinning oddly. “No... no I’m not. I feel, ah. Strange. And hot. Very hot.” He tugged at his shirt with shaking fingers, hoping to pull the restraining material free.
“Obviously! You just kissed bloody Potter. Someone must have hexed you,” Pansy Parkinson snarled, pushing her way past Crabbe to go to Draco’s side. “Come on. Let’s get you to Madame Pomfrey’s.”
“Here, I’ll take him.” Blaise quickly stooped down and pulled Draco to his feet before Pansy could get her clingy claws on him.
Draco gave a soft moan, eyes seeking out Harry’s and smiling enticingly once he caught him in his gaze. “I want Potter to take me. Will you, Potter? Will you take me?”
“Err, I would, Malfoy, but, uh...” Harry flushed at the suggestive tone sent his way, unable to tear his eyes from where Draco had managed to unbutton his top. Pink, tantalizing marks—Harry's marks—were peeking from behind the buttons.
“No he won’t!” Ron and Pansy interrupted together, glaring at both boys. Blaise shrugged with a small chuckle, slowly pulling Draco down the hallway before anyone decided to follow.
No one noticed the panther shaped shadow that padded down a side hallway, catching up to the boys before they could get to the Hospital Wing. Both Blaise and Draco felt an immediate improvement in his condition at this time, allowing Draco to insist on just going to bed and not bothering the mediwitch when he had no symptoms to show for his odd problem.
Harry stared long after, the butterflies in his stomach growing as he thought of Draco aroused while in the arms of Blaise. Had it all been a hex, then? A big joke on Malfoy that had suckered Harry in as well? More importantly, why the hell did that realization make him feel so horrible?
Harry shook his head unhappily, ignoring Ron’s attempts to drag him to the common room. He needed to think, and he couldn’t do it around a bunch of concerned, and angry Gryffindors. Harry considered going to the Room of Requirement like he had first intended, but ended up slipping into a certain girls’ bathroom on the third floor and wandering the Chamber that it hid.

“What did you do to me? It was like… I dunno, like a lust drug, or something. Not that I’m complaining, mind,” Draco added with a laugh, rubbing his head into Harry’s neck and shoulder while the man held him tight in his lap. “Saved my bloody life… and felt wonderful, to boot.”
“Did you like it? I can do it again, if you want.”
Draco considered for long moments, and then shook his head. “Not something I need. Just touching you is usually more than enough for me.”
Harry growled, green eyes reflecting mischief. He ran his hands over Draco's thighs, pulling a pleased sound from the fair boy. Then, without warning, he grabbed Draco's wrists, moved them behind the boy and bound them with a silent spell. Letting go, he traced a finger over the blond's jaw as the boy got used to the position, gray eyes growing heavy with want.
“A new lesson today, love.”
“Yes...?” Draco's breath hitched. He loved his lessons with the older Harry, usually learning either tricks to entice and subdue Potter's younger self, or just amazing ways to increase pleasure. Draco had a strong feeling that Harry didn't mind teaching these lessons, no matter how exhausted and sated they always were after.
“Yes.” Harry pushed Draco's already unbuttoned shirt back, letting the material bunch at the crook of the boy's elbows. “Its time to see what that pretty little mouth of yours can do.” He wrapped long fingers in Draco's hair, pulling back firmly and increasing the pressure until Draco gave a low moan of approval.
Draco watched silently as Harry assessed him, eyes burning over his form. He wondered how Harry would have him tonight. Given the intense expression on the man's face, jaw squared and dark hair doing nothing to hid the predatory look, Draco had a notion that it would be merciless. The thought shook a hot shudder through him, and he moaned again.
He liked this, Harry in absolute control, taking him whenever the thought struck. Sometimes he wondered if the man would misjudge and hurt him, taking too much too fast out of a crazed need. Even that thought was delicious. As if sensing his thoughts—and Draco had a strong suspicion that he was more than capable— Harry pushed him back on the bed, roughly bouncing him against the mattress, arms pinned beneath him. Draco watched as thick, leather clad thighs straddled his much narrower waist.
Harry pushed a pillow carelessly under Draco's head, relieving some of the neck strain as the boy watched with growing anticipation. Skillful fingers swiftly untied the laces doing very little to keep Harry's large erection from breaking free.
Draco swallowed, the position somehow magnifying Harry's already impressive arousal. He watched as the same fingers began to caress the hard flesh, waking it to full attention. And then suddenly Harry was leaning over him, knees pinning the pillow under his head, one strong hand pushing hard on his pale shoulder as the other guided the man's thick cock into Draco's mouth.
There was no time to think as Draco's senses were surrounded by the rustle of clothes and dark, heavy heat. Harry gave him no reprieve, stretching Draco's mouth to new widths as he slid in with a smooth, unrestrained motion until he was firmly pressing against the back of Draco's throat.
Draco wanted to moan, wanted to move and escape the suffocating feeling of the thick flesh, not being able to breathe as his saliva started to build. The smell of Harry's musk and sweat was overpowering. He could hear Harry groan, feel the fingers bite into his shoulder as the man gave an irrepressible thrust against Draco's tonsils. Slowly, the thickness inside his mouth receded, and heedlessly Draco followed it up, his head bobbing and tongue outstretched to feel the column of flesh.
Harry growled, watching Draco wrap swollen red lips around his straining flesh. “Again,” he demanded heatedly, grabbing Draco's jaw with bruising fingers and opening the sweet mouth wider as he pushed in.
Draco made a soft chocking noise, eyes squeezed shut, hips rocking upwards to reveal his enjoyment of the rough treatment. Harry could feel the Slytherin's tongue rubbing frantically against his dick in a maddening fashion. He couldn't stop from surging forward, burying the beautiful boy beneath his body as he thrust into the eager mouth.
It was getting harder to think. Draco wondered if he was going to asphyxiate, so difficult it was to breath with the saliva again blocking his throat. His jaw ached from being stretched so wide. The liquid too much, he half swallowed, half chocked, but it was still a small reprieve allowing him to drag air through his nose and the rough cloth pressing against his face.
Draco was so hard; he wanted Harry to touch him, to fuck him, to take him again and again. Instead the man pulled out a few inches, and began thrusting into Draco's mouth in shallow strokes, the hand once pinning his shoulder now tangled painfully in his hair.
Draco was overly aware of his teeth, the only unyielding part of his mouth, as he tried to keep tender flesh from tripping on them. Harry pressed his hand onto Draco's throat and, along with the firm heat, he felt something loosen up inside, relaxing and opening up as the man surged forward and seated himself fully inside, balls flush against Draco's chin, nose tickled by wiry pubic hair.
It was surreal, feeling every inch of the hard member inside. It took so much self control not to move, not to panic or snap or beg to be taken.
Harry was glaring down at him, hand tracing Draco's features. The eye contact was too much, and Draco's hips rose... but release didn't come. He could feel a pressure at the base of his erection keeping his fluids intact. Harry and his magic surely to blame.
Draco knew he must be the picture of complete agony, but he couldn't move safely, couldn't cry out for more. Harry could read him, yet still the man watched, hungry, ravenous even. Draco struggled with the bonds at his wrist, but couldn't gain any leeway. Harry was moving slowly inside, no, swelling...
Draco's eyes squeezed shut, his throat automatically milking the seed spurting into him. It seemed to stretch on for hours, feeling the man move and jerk inside him, his throat swallowing in perfect rhythm. Harry slid out slowly, leaning down to kiss Draco who was now free to roll his head feverishly.
“Harry... Harry please...” Draco begged, voice raw, tears sneaking from his lids to mingle with the saliva that had streaked his jaw and neck. He rocked his hips again, crying out when Harry pinned them down.
It had been so intimate, so unbelievably vulnerable and amazing the way his throat had closed around Harry's cock and pulled it in, moving together perfectly. He needed to complete that feeling, finish the bond.
“Tell me,” Harry growled, biting deep into Draco's shoulder and making the boy cry out again. “Loudly.”
Draco nodded. “I want to cum,” he whined, not quite recognizing himself sounding so desperate. He opened his eyes as Harry's fingers grabbed his jaw again and met the hungry stare. Draco realized he had only increased the burning desire in Harry, instead of sating the man.
“I need you. Fuck me.” When Harry showed no sign of hearing, Draco snarled, biting the fingers running over his lips. “Now!”
The pain startled Harry into action. He rolled off of Draco and grabbed the boy's pants, struggling with his fly and tearing them from Draco's pale long legs.
Harry paused, breath hissing out of him slowly as he looked Draco up and down. He grabbed Draco by his hips, bending his own body down to run a hot tongue over the boy's arousal. “Mine,” he growled lowly, possessively.
Draco had no interest in arguing. “Hurry,” he bit out, his jaw clenched. He wanted his hands free, wanted to force Harry to give him what he needed. The infuriating man insisted on going at his own pace, driving Draco mad.
“F-Fuck!” Harry moved lower with clear intention, tongue ferociously stabbing at Draco's entrance. He couldn't stop from squirming, delight and agony warring in his body.
“Harry,” he gasped, helpless to the hands that lifted him suddenly, rolled him over and pushed him down into the bed.
Harry's hands grabbed Draco's immobile ones, using them to pull the boy up and back, bending his knees until he was spread out, ass up in the air. Harry's breath fanned over his smooth cheeks, pulling desperate gasps from Draco.
“Now?” Harry asked once, steel control slipping as his fingers bit into Draco's tender flesh.
“Yes!” Draco growled, his body pure fire, anticipation alone all that was left of him. He felt Harry break behind him, whispering dark obscenities as he mounted the aching boy.
How Harry could be hard again, tearing into him, Draco didn't know, but he needed it too urgently to question. There was no kindness this time, no sweet meeting. Without purchase, Draco's face and shoulders were pushed down into the pillows as he was slammed forward from the first thrust.
At Draco's cry, rough fingers found his mouth, slipping over his lips, touching inside to meet his tongue. Draco licked at the sweaty digits, sucking and nipping mindlessly.
Another tremendous thrust from Harry and Draco's knees were slipping wide. Harry wrapped his muscular arm around Draco's waist, lifting the boy easily, holding him in place as Harry pounded mercilessly into his tight entrance. Draco did his best to hold on, darkness slipping at the edge of his vision with each powerful thrust.
“Harry,” Draco begged with a single word, tongue working around the fingers still plunging in his mouth and spilling warm fluid down his chin. His body was sore, raw, and bruised. Harry was unceasingly grinding into him with a fury that seemed to have no end. Draco was aching for release but the stopping pressure would not let up. “Please... god.... please.... I can't take any more.”
Harry heard him, a carnal yell his only answer.
Draco's legs were trembling, his body covered in sweat, his energy nearly gone. All he could do was give in, give in to Harry's fierce and very thorough claiming. Each thrust felt like Draco was being reshaped on the inside, being marked, being named by Harry over and over again.
“Please,” He moaned, turning his head to the side, his wet cheek heavy on the bedding. “No more... please.”
Tongue, mouth, and teeth soothed over Draco's shoulders and neck, sucking, licking, biting into the lighter marks left by the young version of Harry just earlier that day.
“Draco... hold on, love.” Harry released Draco's wrists and pulled the boy back against his chest, holding him securely. He did not change the intensity of his movements, but did change the angle so that each thrust hit the perfect spot deep in Draco.
Draco's cries grew in pitch, hands reaching above his head to wrap into Harry's hair. “Yesss... more,” he hissed lowly, a sob breaking free. “Again!”
It was so thick... so full. Harry was... Harry... Draco clutched as Harry gave a final savage thrust, hot liquid coating Draco's insides and dripping out his impossibly stretched opening. “Harry...”
Not missing a beat, Harry lifted Draco again, throwing him onto the bed among the strewn sheets. Draco looked up blearily, impossibly dark green eyes meeting his before disappearing down between his legs. Harry's hot mouth engulfed him, the spell keeping him from ejaculation suddenly removed with the touch.
Draco arched, his heavy release filling Harry's hungry mouth. The man drank greedily, thirsty, and Draco wondered dazedly if anything would be left of him.
He moaned low as Harry's tongue once again found his raw hole, probing languidly, tasting the man's seed mixed with Draco's fluids. Draco felt the world spin and smiled sleepily.
“Draco, love, are you alright?” Harry asked, voice rough and husky.
“Uh... yeah... yes, love.” Draco answered weekly. His limbs felt extraordinarily heavy.
Harry was so beautiful, looking down at him with concern. Draco made the effort to reach out, pulling the man down next to him. “That was magnificent.”
“My god, yes,” Harry agreed, pulling the boy into his arms, arranging him so Draco's back was trapped against his chest. He rubbed the pale limbs, doing everything he could to sooth their shaking.
Within his sleep addled mind, Draco began to realize what had happened to his Harry.
Draco turned his head back, reaching until Harry met his kiss, ferocious even now, stealing his breath, feeding his fire.
Harry was leaving soon, back to his time. The man would not know if he had succeeded in changing the time line until he went back. Harry wouldn't know if there would be a Draco Malfoy of his own waiting for him.
Draco settled in, melting into his dark Gryffindor. He would give what he could while Harry was there. He'd give him everything the man needed and more.

Draco would not accept the older Harry's help when he devised his plan. He knew he had to do this part on his own. He was going up against his father, and Lucius Malfoy deserved a proper battle.
Draco had to admit, he was frightened. It was not just the retaliation he was opening himself up to, which was great given his father's rage. It was the fact that this move was basically Draco's step into adulthood. He would have no family after this. There would be no one to turn to if he needed help, no shelter to take or funds to fall back on.
Draco Malfoy was on his own the moment he had set his plan into action, and the thought left a terrible churning deep in the pit of his stomach even now, days later.
There had been only one way to definitively prove to the Golden Boy that Draco was not loyal to the Dark Lord. Draco had made sure the evidence would not be missed by anyone.
Sunday morning, sitting in the Great Hall surrounded by his oblivious peers, Draco tried to ignore the way his pulse was racing. Harry and his friends were sitting at the Gryffindor table, laughing to each other about something.
He thought of his gorgeous Harry, waiting for him in his bed. Draco wished desperately to be there in the man's embrace. Dully, he could hear the owls brushing wingtips against the door as they flew in.
Hogwarts received the Daily Prophet late, hours so compared to Malfoy Manor. Even as the papers could be heard thudding on the head table, Draco caught sight of a flaming red envelope clutched in the talons of his mother's eagle owl. It was heading his way.
Draco closed his eyes, feeling the envelope flutter down, brushing his fingers and burning where it touched. He took a deep breath, and another, counting as the letter began its howl, growing in volume until everyone in the Great Hall fell silent. Draco could feel them turn, feel them stare. He kept his eyes shut, and focused on his breathing.
It was his mother's voice, raised in an exaggerated shriek of rage that boomed off the walls of the Hall. He heard gasps from his classmates, whispers, and then shouts. His mother was vicious, coldly stripping him of family, funds, and protection. Promising him his father and aunt would find him and destroy whatever was left of him. The howler faded, his mother promising his death one last time before bursting into flames.
Well, it could have been worse. It could have been Lucius.
When Draco opened his eyes, literally everyone in the room was staring at him.
Draco calmly picked up his fork and placed a waffle on his plate, dabbing butter on top. He slowly poured syrup, flooding his plate. He was in desperate need of comfort food. Draco cut a corner piece, careful to keep syrup from the edges of his mouth.
At his first bite, the Great Hall broke into a roar. Draco ignored them, chewing very thoroughly before swallowing. It tasted wonderful, but felt like lead in his stomach.
His roommates were trying to get his attention, but Draco shook his head no, and had another bite of his waffle. He would not talk about this now, not in front of the entire school.
“Malfoy?”
Harry—god, young reckless Harry was standing on the other side of the table, confusion, concern and joy warring on his scarred face.
“I'm eating, Potter.”
Harry scowled, narrowing his eyes. He pushed Pansy and Zabini apart, sitting between them on the Slytherin bench across from Draco. Harry threw the paper he had been carrying down on the table. “Is this for real?”
Draco glanced at the paper, his face on the front page with the headline 'Heir To Evil' blazing across the page.
Well, he hadn't expected it to be subtle, that's why Draco had asked for the interview in the first place. Ignoring Harry's searching gaze, Draco picked up a spoon and began to drink up the syrup on his plate.
Zabini was the first to pick the paper up, skimming through the article. “Holy fuck.” Pansy snatched it from the boy's hands, tearing to the second page. “Are you bloody insane, Draco? Your father is going to murder you!”
Draco nodded quietly in agreement. He grabbed the syrup server and stuck his spoon into it, relishing the thick, sweet flavor while he could.
“Malfoy?” Harry wasn't giving up, it would seem. Draco tilted his head side to side, loosening his shoulders. He caught sight of the Werewolf Professor and Snape, both approaching with concern on their faces. It reminded Draco that he still had Sirius, as useless as the man could be at times. Maybe he wasn't completely alone family wise.
He glared when Harry reached across his plate, but the boy was only placing a mug of—Draco grabbed the hot chocolate with a growl, sipping the warm liquid possessively. He locked gazes with Harry over the rim of the mug. No longer worried, Harry had an intense, manic look in his eyes that made Draco swallow hard. He had another sip of chocolate, letting the liquid slowly calm his anxious nerves.
“Mr. Malfoy, we would like to speak with you in my office,” Snape said, finally reaching the table. Remus was with him, honey eyes touching on Harry and then Draco, moving between the two.
“What do you say, Potter? Wanna go for a chat?” Draco asked offhandedly as he stood and removed himself from the bench. Harry jumped up, answer enough, and followed quietly as the four of them walked to the dungeons.
When they left the Great Hall all volume intensified. Harry glared back before wrapping an arm protectively around Draco's shoulder.
“Ignore them,” Harry muttered darkly.
Draco nodded, letting the arm stay. “I plan on it. Until someone tries to attack me.” He raised an eyebrow at Harry's answering growl.
Remus turned at the sound, scrutinizing Harry's face in silence. Harry noticed, but only shook his head to ward off any questions.
Harry had not had a chance to talk with Draco for days since the library incident. The Gryffindor had naturally gotten himself injured during Quidditch practice, and had ended up in the infirmary. He felt bad leaving Draco to do their potion's project alone, but Harry had a feeling that the blond was probably better off without his poor help. Harry had been glad at the time, grateful for a chance to think.
During third year Harry had admitted to himself that he had an extreme attraction to Draco Malfoy. He had allowed himself to fantasize at night, and watch the boy during the day, but that was it. Harry had never thought to get close, never thought he would ever have an opportunity with the Slytherin without a curse being the source of it all. That night in the library, Malfoy had given Harry an opening, and to his own surprise, he had readily taken it. Very readily.
Draco had not been under a spell that night, not until the hallway when things started going to hell. Harry was certain once he had gotten a chance to step away and think in silence.
He knew because it was a familiar spell to Harry, one he had come across while sneaking through the Restricted Section huddled beneath his cloak. It had been a spell he had fantasized on using one day in the future on Malfoy. Just a little, just for a moment so Harry could see the blond in the position he had third year, lithe body under the shower, taut in pleasure...
Harry swallowed, trying to push the image away.
“Potter? Your hand...” Draco squirmed, Harry's fingers biting into his shoulder.
Draco almost wished it could just hurt, but Harry and pain meant different things to him now, and he struggled to keep his breathing checked. Harry didn't seem to hear him, a far away, dark look in his eyes that Draco recognized from his own Harry, right before the man did something naughty and delicious. Hell.
Draco grabbed the arm still clutching him and pulled it free. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as Draco twisted his arm and pinned it to his back at an angle.
“Potter, you're being very rude right now.” Draco whispered in the boy's ear, tightening his grip until Harry made a noise of pain.
“That hurts, Malfoy.”
“You like it.”
Harry shuddered at the words, his eyes closing on their own accord. Yes, yes he did.
Draco noticed Harry's surrender and had to let the boy go before he did something he would likely regret while two of his professors were watching. “Right, so no more of that, Potter. Understand?”
Harry nodded, unable to take his eyes off of Draco. “Understood,” he whispered. He forced his feet to move, following again. This time he didn't touch Draco, ignoring the pull inside that very much wanted to.

Sirius was waiting in Snape's office, pacing the room in large strides. When the group came in he stopped, stepping to Draco to make sure he was unharmed. He frowned, his enhanced dog nose reeling from the slender boy.
“Cousin, you reek of sex.” Sirius met Remus' eyes, who made a slight head tilt towards Harry. Baffled, Sirius sniffed his godson. Yes, Draco was covered in Harry's scent, head to toe, likely inside as well as out. Sirius narrowed his eyes, noting that Draco's scent was barely on Harry. Very likely Remus had noticed the same thing because the wolf was far better at scenting than him.
Ignoring the exchange, Draco just shrugged, in no hurry to explain his sex life to anyone.
The last few nights his Harry had become quite possessive after learning of Draco's plan, last night the most so. The man had spent hours taking Draco, bending, turning and positioning the boy in every way possible. Draco's body had ached once finally finished, feeling hollow and empty without Harry buried inside him while holding him down.
He suspected the man intended to drive him insane so that Draco would have no choice but to seek Harry's younger form out if he ever wanted to feel complete again. Draco really, really didn't mind at all.
Draco licked his lips, giving Harry a quick side glance. Harry was staring at him again, green eye boring in. But he was speaking to his godfather.
“Apparently Malfoy is part Veela.”
Sirius nodded. “Only a very small percent. You, on the other hand, are your mother's son, it would seem.”
Harry furrowed his brows, not sure what to make of that. “Huh?”
Snape pushed passed them, ushering Draco to a seat. “We're here about Malfoy's uncertain future, not that suspected Siren of a mother.”
Remus continued, feeling it was too important to ignore. “Harry, we don't know for certain what Lily was, not with her muggle roots and all. But once she settled on James there was no persuading her, and anyone that tried to get in the way ended up in a world of hurt. You need to be careful.”
Sirius nodded in agreement. “She was a very intense woman when it came to James. Nearly obsessed. In all other things she was fairly normal, but when anyone messed with her mate, she was destructive and violent.”
Sirius perched himself on Snape's desk, ignoring the glare sent his way. “It was a for-life thing. You need to understand what you're getting yourself into, Harry.”
Harry was still very confused. “I don't... What exactly are you saying here?”
“Potter, you've got some sort of beast in you,” Snape interjected with a sneer. “You're one of the many wizards out there whose blood has mingled with magical creatures. It's nothing to write home about, just be careful with anyone you intend on buggering. Now, if we could please get back to Mr. Malfoy.”
Snape placed his own copy of the Daily Prophet on his desk, fixing Draco with a hard stare. “You, boy, are in an immense amount of trouble.”
Well. Draco spared a glance at Harry, who looked very confused and was intent on biting his fingernails in anxious thought. That explained a lot. Potter had a beast. A very dominant, sex ravenous beast that had fixated on Draco. Actually, hearing it for the first time, Draco wondered how he hadn't guessed weeks ago when his Harry first showed up.
“Mr. Malfoy, I'm waiting for some sort of explanation. You have exposed yourself, left yourself completely vulnerable to anyone who would like to get into the Dark Lord's good graces. We will need to arrange some sort of protection for you, not to mention shelter during the summer.”
“He's staying with me, Snape,” Sirius said bluntly, pushing off the desk and standing next to Remus. “We traitorous Blacks have to stick together, after all.”
Remus nodded. “We can take care of Draco during the summers. You can't give away your loyalties, Severus, by taking Draco in. It would be too dangerous for the both of you.” Remus turned to Draco questioningly. “Unless you have a preference?”
Draco shook his head. His cousin would be interesting, and Remus would keep anything too dangerous from occurring with his calming influence on Sirius. “No, my only real concern right now is if I have to worry about retaliation. I gave away more than just my family's secrets in that interview; I named ten families as Death Eaters.”
“That is a genuine concern, Mr. Malfoy, one I would have hoped you had thought of before giving such information away,” Snape drawled, long fingers tapping on his desk.
Draco stiffened at the remark, then shrugged elegantly. “I had my reasons.”
“Clearly self preservation was not on the top of the list.”
Draco glanced at Harry again, the boy chewing on the side of his thumb while deep in thought. “They were good reasons. Anyways, I'm not too worried about my dorm mates. Some of the other Slytherin's, maybe, but my roommates have all struggled the way I have. They understand, and will help protect me.”
Remus seemed to be convinced. “I think anyone having read that article will completely understand.”
Draco studied the heavy oak desk, fidgeting with his hands. He had been very blunt about his father's abuse and behavior, not softening or exaggerating any of it. His parents weren't complicated people by any means. They had little love for any but themselves, and demanded loyalty at all costs. Draco had once thought that was what it meant to be a family, but coming to Hogwarts and seeing how many other families were, he realized how wrong he had been.
“Was there anything else, Sirs?” Draco asked, wishing he could go hide away. It had been a long Sunday morning already, and he had not slept much the night before.
“Not for now. We'll speak with the headmaster and see if he has anything else to add. I believe Severus has some fires to put out concerning this, but nothing that needs your attention. Harry,” Remus turned to him, pulling the brunette from his thoughts. “I was hoping you'd be willing to keep an eye on Draco for a bit, just until things die down.”
Harry met Draco's eyes, apprehension flashing in his green depths before quickly looking away. “Yeah, Remus, of course.” Harry ruffled his hair, waiting for Draco to get up, and the two left the room, neither looking at each other.
The three men exchanged glances, Snape the first to speak. “So, we're in agreement that Malfoy has done this for Potter, correct?”
Sirius nodded. “Malfoy is bruised. I saw his wrists and a bite by his collar. And he smells... strange.”
“He smells like Harry, but different,” Remus elaborated. “Darker, somehow. Powerful.”
“Like what you smelled on Wormtail's body?” Snape pressed, his expression grim.
Remus took a long moment to nod. “Yes.”
The three men fell silent. Whether they would tell Dumbledore or not was the question, and so far they did not have an answer.
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Bending Time

Chapter Four