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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.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Light of Heaven
by Draeconin

See chapter one for ratings, summary and other details.

Disclaimer: If you don't recognize it, it's mine. Everything else belongs to the copyright holders.

Chapter 5
The tub wasn't quite long enough to allow only their feet to touch. Although plenty wide enough for two, they were foot to thigh, and quite unable to keep their legs from rubbing together while they washed themselves, simply from the actions needed to scrub. And that was a constant reminder to each that they were nude in a bathtub with the gorgeous boy that had featured, time and again, in their own erotic dreams - and that boy was also nude. This had the expected result, of course, of two very hard and excited erections, although they both tried desperately to hide it. Harry didn't want to give Draco any ammunition for his sharp tongue, and Draco was still fighting a losing battle against Mother Nature.
Draco's mind kept coming back to Harry Potter. Logically, Har... Potter shouldn't want to have anything to do with him; not that Draco could blame him. His jealous, petty behaviour, his insults both to Ha - Potter and his friends... 'Wait a moment! Did I just say I was petty? And jealous of Harry Potter?' he thought to himself. As much as he wanted to deny it, his new-found honesty with himself wouldn't let him. 'I guess I have been, a bit. Maybe more than a bit? After all, Harry's popular, has so many friends, he's famous, cute, and has such a hot bod!' He blushed at admitting those last two things to himself. 'And all I'd have to do is offer to wash his back, then I could just reach around him, and...' his unruly thoughts had continued. At that, he could feel his face getting really hot, and as a certain body part twitched violently, he thought 'I suppose that clinches it. Perhaps I am gay. I've certainly got the hots for "The Boy Who Lived."' He gave up the fight.
The crowd went wild. Score ten points for Mother Nature. The quaffle had gone through the hoop, but the snitch wasn't yet caught.
Private introspection aside, there was still the small matter of the bath, and bodily betrayal. Eventually, both young men had washed every square inch of their skins at least twice, stalling, hoping against hope that their body's betrayal of sexual excitement would subside. Draco may have given up his fight against his nature, but now he was terribly self-conscious. Draco's skin was quite red, and it wasn't all from scrubbing. Not even mostly.
Harry and Draco had, after a time, to stop scrubbing or risk being in pain for several days while their skins healed. After five minutes of just sitting in the tub looking everywhere but at each other, Harry stated the obvious. "We're stalling."
There was an embarrassed silence, then "Yes."
"You?" A world of questions were held in that one word, but he knew the answer beforehand, due to their link. It was just another stall tactic.
"Uh-huh."
"Me too."
"I know."
"Well, this is awkward."
"Too right. It's one thing, knowing; but quite another to not only see, but be seen," Draco offered.
"Quite." Another moment passed. "We can't stay here all day."
"I'm willing to give it a try."
"Draco, you were never a coward."
"Yes, I am."
Harry finally looked at the other boy. "I don't think so. Cautious, a good sense of self-preservation, but that's not necessarily cowardice; just good sense."
"Compliments now, Potter?"
Harry shrugged, inadvertently almost giving Draco a heart attack, as he watched the play of muscles under wet skin. "If the truth is complimentary, I guess so."
Coming to an abrupt decision, Harry stood up, stepped out of the tub, turned back around and quickly grasped Draco's hand. "Come on, then. We still need to get settled in, then get tea." Receiving no answer, he looked down to find Draco's glazed eyes fixed on Harry's still-erect member, now just inches from his face. Face suddenly burning a lot more fiercely than before, as he became all too aware of the other boy's emotional reactions, he said, voice suddenly shaky, "D-d-draco?"
Not saying a word, Draco quickly stood up, stepped out of the tub, and hurriedly dragged Harry, both of them still sopping wet, to the bedroom. He swung Harry around him, and pushed the boy backwards onto the bed. Taking a brief look at Harry's wet, and obviously aroused nude form, and before Harry could recover, Draco fell forward onto the other boy, grabbing and pinning his arms, their erections mashed together between them. Draco looked deeply into Harry's eyes, seeing and feeling both the Gryffindor's uncertainty, and a matching hunger. It was the latter he paid attention to. His gaze drifted lower, to full, kissable lips. He hungrily bent forward to take possession of them, his breathing both fierce and uneven, hips bucking involuntarily, triggering an answering involuntary response from the young man under him.
Their lips met in a fierce, almost bruising kiss, then Harry found his arms free as Draco took control of his dark-haired head, the graceful fingers strong, yet gentle, as he took full possession of Harry's lips. But instead of trying to get away, Harry submitted, one hand going to the back of Draco's wet head, the other around his waist, trying to increase the friction down there. Their still-wet skin slipped together, creating a very pleasant sensation. Soon their awkward movements fell into an ages-old rhythm as their hips thrust together. Their kissing had to be put on hiatus as the need for oxygen increased, reducing them to quick little pecks on any skin surface that presented itself.
Suddenly the chains of all of Harry's insecurities and hang-ups broke. He grabbed Draco more firmly, and swiftly rolled over on top of him. Draco struggled. He was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, and he was used to always being obeyed, always being in control. So he struggled; not trying to get away, but to regain his position, his superiority, his authority. But Harry was now firmly in control, and slowly, Draco began to realise that he liked it that way. For once he could let himself relax and just let things happen, not knowing exactly what would happen, but being able to trust - to let go. Even before they had found their link through the Power Partners potion, Draco had known that Harry could be trusted; it was merely his pride, and then his father's urging, that had kept the enmity going. As he came closer to his orgasm, he became aware, on a deeper level, that Harry was also getting close. Again their minds meshed, each aware of the emotions and sensations the other was sensing, but this time it was an entirely enjoyable experience; one that put them both over the top at the same time. Their bodies froze, pelvises ground together, as they spewed forth their fluids.
Silence, as their bodies relaxed. Not a heavy or guilty silence, but one of shared blissful exhaustion, laboured breathing easing, becoming more relaxed. Harry lifted his head just enough to find and kiss the lips of the boy under him. It was a gentle kiss that didn't last very long, yet expressed so much; thank you - you're beautiful - you're mine. Not yet 'I love you', but getting there.
Draco slowly looked up in amazement, into the green eyes of the boy on top of him. He was totally lost, and he knew it. "That was - amazing. Brilliant. Too bloody wonderful for words," he breathed.
"Mm-hm," Harry agreed, his head having sunk to rest on Draco's collarbone.
"Harry?"
"Hm?"
"Harry, that was brilliant, and all - but...you're getting heavy."
Chuckling, Harry planted one more wet one on the Slytherin, then rolled off onto the bed. "We're going to have to bathe again, you know."
"Mm. Get rid of the 'evidence' before we start smelling. Give me a minute?"
"Mm-hm."
When he'd recovered enough, Draco suggested "Try the shower this time?"
"Sure."
Despite the recent interlude, or perhaps because of it, but on a different level, both young men were feeling a bit shy as they entered the shower.
"Wash your back?" Harry offered.
Draco startled, to hear his own earlier thought echoed back to him. "Um... Sure."
Harry's strong, soapy hands on his back were both relaxing and stimulating, almost more of a massage than just washing skin, and so... Mmmm... He could feel those hands as they moved down his back, lower, and lower. But they didn't stop at his waist, even dipping into his crack, and as much as he was enjoying the sensation, he wasn't ready for that quite yet. "Um... Harry? I don't want to ruin the mood, but - can we work up to that?" He blushed, then continued. "I think; no, I know that I'll want you to touch me there someday, but not right now, okay?"
Harry was a little disappointed, but moved his hands higher again. "Of course, Draco; whenever you're ready. And have you noticed you've been using my first name?"
Draco gave a weak chuckle. "Well, after what we just did, don't you think I should?"
"I like it. Want to return the favour?"
"What?!" he uttered, a little alarmed.
"Wash my back?"
"Oh. Okay."
"And Draco? You don't have to stop at the waist, if you don't want to." Draco turned red. "You have the prettiest blush," Harry remarked teasingly.
"And you call me mean!" Draco said, giving Harry's biceps a half-hearted punch. "Ow! I forgot about that. Talk about unfair! I can't even punish you," Draco pouted.
"Even your pout is cute," Harry teased.
"You are so unfair!"
"And you love it," Harry said, turning around and putting his arms around Draco, unintentionally giving them full frontal contact. As they again started to react, Harry pulled back a bit, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Draco's. "Um... Maybe we should leave that for another time. Tonight, maybe?"
"Maybe..." Draco admitted, with a small smirk.
This new Draco that Harry was seeing was miles away from the one he was used to. 'I think I could get used to this Draco,' Harry thought.
They exited the shower, and managed to get dried off, then dressed - their hands not interfering half so often as before - and breaking contact for several seconds at a time. Lost in their own thoughts, neither really took notice until they were fully dressed. Then Draco realised what had been happening. "Harry? Did you notice? We weren't touching all the time!"
Surprised, Harry thought back, then nodded. "You're right." then he grinned evilly at Draco "A happy side-effect of happy times?" he teased.
Draco blushed yet again 'Damn, but this is becoming a habit!', but answered with a half-smile. "Maybe... But it could be because you're being such a prat! If you don't stop making me blush, I'm going to have to find a way to punish you!"
Harry grinned, and said teasingly "What? You going to spank me?" and wiggled his bum at Draco. Draco swatted at it, but Harry evaded. Grinning, he said "Come on, then. I'm hungry. If we hurry, we can still make tea in the Great Hall."
Draco held back "Dumbledore said we were to eat here, and I don't think I'm ready for the whole school to see us holding hands, even if it's only because we have to. I'm going to have enough trouble when this news gets out. I'd like to put it off as long as possible."
"You're right. I forgot. I'm sorry," Harry apologised. "So how are we supposed to get food?"
Just then there was the sound of a *pop*, and a house elf appeared. "So sorry to be so late, masters. Jinkies so sorry. Jinkies will punish himself severely, later. Can Jinkies get the masters anything?"
"No need to punish yourself, Jinkies," Harry replied. "Everyone is late once in a while. It's forgivable. And please don't call me master. My name is Harry Potter, and this is Draco Malfoy. You may address us as you feel comfortable. We could use tea ⁽¹⁾, though; whatever the Great Hall is having."
"Speak for yourself, Harry," Draco retorted. "I want a steak and lobster meal, with a jacketed potato and a salad."
"Jinkies so sorry Master Draco, sir, but Master Dumbledore strictly say no special meals, Master Draco, sir. Jinkies cannot disobey Master Dumbledore, sir. Jinkies sorry," the poor house elf declared.
As disgusted with the situation as he was, Draco could not bring himself to take it out on the house elf - definitely out of character, and he wondered at himself. "Not your fault, elf. Just make sure there's plenty of whatever swill they're serving tonight." 'Ah, that's more like it,' he thought to himself.
"Do you know a house elf by the name of Dobby, Jinkies?" Harry asked. Draco wondered why that name sounded familiar.
"Dobby very famous house elf, Master Harry Potter, sir. Very famous! Would Master Harry Potter like to speak to Dobby, sir?"
"There's no hurry, Jinkies, but yes, I would: perhaps after tea?" Harry replied. With another *pop*, Jinkies disappeared.
"What'll you bet he gets Dobby before he gets our tea?" Harry muttered to himself.
"Who, besides being a house elf, is Dobby, and why would you ask for him?" Draco demanded, curiously.
"Jealous, Draco?" Harry asked, facetiously. "I tricked your father into setting him free in my second year, here," he answered. "Since then, he's been hired to work here at Hogwarts."
Jinkies popped back in just then with a large tray laden with two plates stacked high with roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, plates of salad, pumpkin juice, and apple tart for desert.
"That's a bit more than tea, Jinkies, but thank you. I'm hungry enough for it!" Harry said.
"Not bad," Draco remarked of the food. "Not steak and lobster, but it will do. Dobby... Ah, yes. I remember. Lucius was in a high dudgeon about that for weeks. House elves are not cheap."
Harry and Draco started dining, and continued their conversation.
"They shouldn't be slaves, either, Draco."
"Why?"
"Why? I guess I shouldn't be surprised you ask that question. You grew up with it. Can't blame you, I guess, for not knowing any better," Harry replied absently, his mind on his food.
Annoyed, Draco retorted "I'm willing to listen, Potter, but so far you haven't said anything worth listening to!"
"Back to 'Potter' already, hm?" Harry mused out loud. "What do you know of how I was raised before Hogwarts, Draco?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Draco asked, getting peeved.
"If you'll answer the question, I'll tell you."
Fuming, Draco replied. "Everyone fawns over you all the time, Potter. Everyone loves 'The Great Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived'. You probably had them eating out of your hands."
Harry shook his head sadly. "I was more like a house slave, Draco," he almost whispered. "My aunt and uncle hated me, my cousin beat me up on a regular basis, I never got enough to eat because Dudley, my cousin, stole my food most of the time, I had to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, and if I ever complained about anything, Uncle Vernon beat me, himself."
Draco felt the truth of the words through their link, and despite his own upbringing, was shocked to his core. "But why didn't you owl someone? Someone would have stopped it."
"I didn't know anything about this world. No-one told me. My aunt and uncle denied magic existed, and I didn't know any better. I was told my parents had gotten drunk and died in a car crash. If there were ever any letters owled me, my aunt or uncle would have destroyed them, as they did the Hogwarts letters that were sent me. If Hagrid hadn't been sent for me personally, I might still not know about all this."
Light dawned in Draco's mind. "So that's why... That's why you acted so strange when we met."
Harry grinned wryly. "Well, that and the fact that you were acting like a stuck-up prig."
Draco shrugged. "It's the only way I knew how to act. The only way I was allowed to act. Lucius wouldn't accept anything else," he admitted. "You know, you and I aren't all that different where our caretakers were concerned. I was beaten quite a lot, too."
"You got beaten? And why do you call your father 'Lucius' instead of 'father' or 'dad'?" Harry asked.
" The man has never really been a father to me, Harry - only someone who took care of my basic physical needs, and used me as a pawn in his plans. He beat me whenever he felt I had failed my part, or the results were less than desired, even if it wasn't my fault," Draco said, ashamedly. He looked up at the green-eyed god beside him. "After you showed up, you were the reason for a lot of those beatings, Harry."
Harry looked stricken. "Not your fault, Harry!" Draco added quickly. "You didn't know. Please don't blame yourself! I admit I blamed you for a long time before I realised that it really wasn't your fault - or mine. The only one truly to blame was Lucius. Once he hears of this, of our bonding, he will either disown me or try to kill me. He will probably do so out of principle, but if he can get to you through it as well, that would just be a bonus. I've decided I'm not going back. I'd rather he chose to disown me, but I'm going to divorce myself from them and give up the family name. Maybe he'll leave me alone if I do that."
"But... family, Draco..." Harry protested weakly.
"Better no family than one like mine, Harry," Draco stated softly, but without self-pity.
"But you're always going on about family loyalty?"
"Lucius has long since voided any possibility of respect or loyalty from me, Harry. Obedience has just been from fear. Yes, I clung to family prestige; it was the only thing I had. But even that has soured. But I couldn't very well admit all of that to anyone, could I? 'Put on a brave face, and march forth like a Malfoy, Draco.'" the blond ended, voice bitter as he parodied his father's words to him. "I don't want to die, Harry," he added quietly.
Harry put down his fork, which he'd forgotten awhile ago anyway, and quickly gathered Draco into his arms, trying to give comfort.
The fair-skinned boy stiffened, a momentary sneer crossing his face in automatic reflex, but then, realizing that Harry could feel what was really going on under the surface, he relaxed into the hug, returning it, and explained his reaction. "Malfoy's aren't supposed to show emotion other than superiority, anger or disdain, Harry. Lucius beat that lesson into me well. But it does hurt. You know that as well I do, I suppose. You've felt it, too."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know," they both said at the same time, and then Draco gave a strained little laugh, while Harry just smiled faintly.
"Anyway," Harry said with a sigh, "that's why I don't like slavery. I know what it must feel like."
They sat holding each other for a while longer, taking mute comfort in the contact, absorbing what they'd learned about each other, then there was another *pop*. They separated, just keeping hold of each other's hand, and looked towards where the sound had come from.
"Is Dobby interrupting? Dobby could come back later. Dobby's a bad elf!" He grabbed the empty tray and started banging himself over the head with it.
"Dobby, don't!" Harry cried out, grabbing the tray away from the distraught house elf. "You're not interrupting! I'm glad you came!"
Dobby peered at the dark-haired boy. "Mister Harry Potter is sure?"
"Yes, Dobby, I'm sure," Harry smiled. "I was just wondering if you'd like to be our house elf instead of Jinkies. He's doing a very good job, so doesn't need to feel like he's failed, but I know you, and I'd like to have a friend helping out here. Plus, I can pay you, since you're a free elf."
A wide grin split Dobby's face almost in half. "Mister Harry Potter thinks of Dobby as a friend? Dobby is so happy! And Mister Harry Potter wishes for Dobby to work for him?" The grin faded. "But Dobby works for Mister Dumbledore. Dobby doesn't want to leave Hogwarts." He was clearly being torn by this decision.
"I don't want you to leave Hogwarts, Dobby," said Harry, quickly reassuring the distraught house elf, who looked up, confused. "I just thought you might like to work for me, as well."
Dobby looked thoughtful. "Dobby can't take pay from Mister Harry Potter for doing what Mister Dumbledore is paying Dobby to do," he said hesitantly.
It was Harry's turn to think. "Could you accept a present for doing very good work?" he asked.
"If Mister Harry Potter thought this unworthy house elf did very good work, that would be present enough for Dobby, sir," Dobby replied.
"We'll see," Harry replied. "So could you trade jobs with Jinkies without his losing honour?"
"Yes, sir!" Dobby declared, his grin restored. "Dobby will explain friendship with Mister Harry Potter."
"Good! You can start with these dishes, if you would, then we're going to need help putting our things away. Is that okay?"
"Very okay, Mister Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby grinned, before going to work.
"And why is one house elf better than another, Harry?" Draco asked.
Harry grinned. "Dobby thinks he's indebted to me, so he's more likely to do favours for me than a house elf whose only loyalty is to Dumbledore and Hogwarts."
Draco looked puzzled. "So?"
"You don't want that steak?"
Draco grinned, and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek. Harry thought a smile looked much better on Draco's face than his habitual sneers, and though the kiss made him feel a little shy, it was also elating.
"Just treat him nicely. He doesn't have to do us any favours."
Draco frowned, thought it over, and then grinned again. "It's worth it," he opined.
"There's an old Muggle saying, Draco: 'You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," Harry warned.
"Why would I want to catch flies in the first place?" Draco asked, puzzled.
Harry sighed.

(1) In Great Britain, there is a small meal or snack served around four in the afternoon, usually consisting of the beverage, coffee, and finger foods - sweet and/or savory. The evening meal is usually served between seven and eight o'clock.
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Light of Heaven