Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Secondary Education	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: Thank for you the lovely reviews! You guys rock my world.
This chapter was taking me forever and it was only partially done, and I realized I just needed to break it up into two chapters so I could go ahead and post. So, bonus chapter for you next week! Hurray!
For now, enjoy this first little foray into what will be lots of Drarry smut to come!
Lesson 5: The Laws of Friction
All right, let’s talk. My quarters, tonight, 10 o’clock? It’s down the corridor from Gryffindor tower, the wooden door to the right of the statue of the gryphon.
-H

Draco stared at the note, smoothing a thumb over it. He’d just found it tucked into one of his Potions books when his last class had released. How Potter had snuck it in there, Draco didn’t know. It was probably during either breakfast or lunch; Draco had been in his classroom all day save for meals.
In either case, it was what he had been waiting for all week. He’d tried to be patient, but he couldn’t help paying careful attention to Potter’s behavior, looking for some sign of where he was going to land regarding Draco’s proposal. But Draco had picked up nothing from his observations. Potter was friendly as usual to him when they crossed paths day to day, and appeared to be neither avoiding him nor specifically seeking him out. It was making Draco a little barmy.
But now he had this, the note. Why Potter had chosen this method of communication, rather than simply finding him in person, Draco could only guess at. But he couldn’t help but feel that the implications were promising. Surely Potter wouldn’t have invited Draco to his quarters if he were going to outright reject him. And if they were going to be alone, in a locked room, together, with very little chance of being disturbed, Draco couldn’t help but feel that perhaps talking might not be all that they would do.
He had patrol that night, unfortunately. It was the early shift, that started at two in the morning, meaning he could meet Potter and have a fair few hours with him before his shift started. It wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t want to postpone. He was too anxious to hear what Potter had to say, and he was getting rather tired of merely wanking to thoughts of the brunet before bed. He wanted the real thing.
***
When he saw Potter at dinner, the Gryffindor caught his eye and raised his eyebrows, as if asking a silent question.
Did you get my note? Are you coming tonight?
Draco tried very hard not to smile as he nodded. Potter, however, seemed to feel no need to hold back, and offered up a wide grin of his own, one that did funny things to Draco’s insides. He licked his lips and watched Potter’s eyes darken, following the small movement of Draco’s tongue.
All good signs.
He tore his eyes away, sitting down next to Babbling, who immediately started engaging him in conversation. It was a good thing too, Draco felt, because he needed a distraction, something to get him through the next few hours.
10 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough as it was.
***
It was 10:02 when Draco knocked on Potter’s door. He’d made himself wait, pacing the corridor for a minute, trying to get his nerves under control and also trying to avoid appearing too eager. He had meant to wait longer, meant to take his time changing out of his robes and walking from his quarters to Potter’s. But they weren’t all that far apart, and it hadn’t taken him long at all.
And he couldn’t wait anymore. So he knocked.
Potter opened the door only a few moments later. “Good evening, Draco,” he said. “Come on in.” He stood aside to let Draco pass.
“Thank you,” Draco said. He looked about the room, to see that there was a strong fire going in the hearth, and that Potter’s rooms were laid out very much like Draco’s, though the sitting room was perhaps a bit bigger, and there was more than just books lining the walls. He saw Potter’s famous Firebolt propped against a bookcase, as well as what looked to be a practice dummy for dueling standing in one corner. Potter still made sure to keep up on his dueling skills from his Auror days, Draco supposed.
“Have a seat,” Potter offered, gesturing to the sofa in front of the fire. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Ogden’s?”
“Perfect.”
Draco sat down on one end of the sofa, giving him a good angle by which to watch Potter as he opened a cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
The man was in fine form tonight. Though he was simply wearing black trousers and a green jumper, the way the clothes fit him, and the enticing shape of his body, made him look mouth-watering anyway.
How could I have ever thought myself purely straight, Draco wondered, with something like this to admire, right in front of me? The powers of denial and of familial pressure were apparently very strong indeed, for him to have avoided this revelation for so long.
As if he could feel Draco staring, Potter turned to look at him, his smile small but knowing. Draco felt himself flush, and he looked away from Potter’s gaze. He spotted a portrait above the fireplace, and saw that it was empty.
“Whose portrait is that?” he asked, to make conversation.
“It’s Sirius’,” said Potter. “Or one of them. I put up one in Grimmauld Place as well, so he has access to me whether I’m at home or at school.”
Draco nodded. It was perfectly reasonable that Potter would want to be able to talk to the memory of his godfather. Draco had wanted the same thing, after the war, and had installed a portrait of Severus in his study in the manor. It was empty a lot, though, since the man spent a good portion of his time in his Hogwarts portrait.
I could go talk to him in the Headmistress’ office, he realized. He would enjoy that, though how Severus’ portrait would react if he found out that Draco wanted to sleep with Harry Potter of all people… well, he could only imagine the horror that would cross the man’s sallow face at that.
Potter handed him his drink, interrupting his thoughts.
“Something funny?” he asked as he sat down as well.
“Hm?”
“You were smiling.”
“Oh, I was just thinking about my own godfather. I have a portrait of him at my home as well, and he has a portrait at Hogwarts.”
“Of course,” said Harry.
Draco looked at him in surprise.
“Your godfather was Snape, right?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
Potter tilted his head, thinking. “I’m not sure. Maybe something was said at his funeral, in reference to it.” He shrugged. “Stuck in my mind, somehow.”
“Well, anyway, I was just thinking that I hadn’t spoken to him in a while, and I was wondering what he would think of… well… everything that’s happened, I suppose.”
“You were wondering what he would think about me,” Potter accused good-naturedly. “That’s what was making you smile.”
“Yes,” Draco admitted, smiling again. “What he would think about… you and me. The little we’ve already done. And what... might happen.”
“He would be horrified,” Potter said, looking like that notion pleased him immensely.
“Yes, he would,” Draco agreed.
“Sirius wasn’t so shocked when I told him you were coming over,” Potter said. “But he was never one to pass a lot of judgments about my life choices. He’s always allowed me to do what makes me happy without much fuss. When it was becoming clear that I intended to be rather… promiscuous for a while, he simply grinned and told me to use protection so I didn’t get anyone up the duff.”
Draco snorted into his whiskey.
“He was kidding, of course. He knows I’m gay.”
“And he doesn’t care.”
“Not one lick,” Potter said. “But I make a point of only keeping people in my life who have no problem with it.”
“Of course,” said Draco, taking a sip of his drink. “I notice he doesn’t stick around to watch the show, though.”
“No, he takes off and gives me my privacy, if I have a guest. But he doesn’t want to watch that anyway.”
“I imagine not.”
They both sipped on their drinks a moment before Potter spoke again.
“I’ve been thinking about your proposal.”
Draco felt his stomach flip, but he was mostly glad they were cutting to the chase. “I would hope so.”
“I’ve been thinking about that… and I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”
There was something in the way Potter said it that made Draco’s blood hum, like he was implying he’d been doing more than thinking, like he’d been fantasizing. Or even… wanking?
Has he made himself come, thinking about me, the way I do thinking about him? The thought made Draco’s cock twitch in his trousers.
“I want to make this work,” Potter said. He took a sip of his drink, and his tone became more business-like. “So, I accept your terms, for the most part. I agree that we should be non-exclusive. That’s always better for me. And I also understand why you would want to keep this a secret. Going out with me in public on a regular basis is going to get you noticed, and if it was obvious that we were sleeping together, the press would certainly make a meal out of it. So it’s better that we keep it within Hogwarts and don’t tell anyone. It could also get awkward for the rest of the staff and the students if they knew, and I’d like to avoid that.”
“Good,” said Draco, hope thundering heavy and sweet in his chest. This is really going to happen.
“But I have some terms of my own.”
“I figured you would,” Draco said, taking a sip of his drink and watching Potter expectantly.
“Firstly, I want to set the pace. You said you want to learn from me, not just gain experience from being with a man. If that’s really true, if what you want is more… how did you put it? My… outlook?” Draco nodded. “Right. Then you must let me be the guide. Think of it as I’m… in charge of the curriculum, if you like.”
Draco laughed, and Potter laughed with him. “That’s fair,” Draco said, after a moment. “It’s like I said. I… trust you.”
“Good. Then I also hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me if there is something you definitely don’t want to do. Even in the moment, if you realize you don’t like something, or if it’s moving too fast, just say so. I can always adjust the… curriculum, as it were, so long as you’re telling me the truth and not keeping things from me.”
“Also fair,” Draco said. “I will certainly tell you if there’s something I don’t want to do.”
“Off the top of your head, is there anything you know you don’t want to do? Just so I can plan ahead.”
That made Draco pause. He realized he hadn’t really given much thought to all of the activities that he and Potter might get up to together. Of course, part of the reason for that was that he was unfamiliar with many aspects of sex between two men, which was really why he was coming to Potter in the first place. Still, he considered what he did know.
“I suppose I find the idea of…” He scratched his chin, feeling awkward. He still wasn’t used to talking about sex aloud in this much detail. “…of being… fucked, you know, being the one who’s being fucked… I find it rather… intimidating, to be honest.”
Potter nodded. “Understandable. A lot of men feel that way. Many of them prefer to be tops exclusively, and you may find out you’re one of them. Or you might, as you get more comfortable, feel like you want to try being the bottom. But that can be far down the road, if you want it at all.”
Draco let out a relieved breath. “Good.”
“I don’t have any qualms about bottoming for you,” Potter said, and Draco caught himself gasping.
“Oh,” he managed, after a few seconds.
“You’re surprised?” Potter asked.
“I… suppose I imagined you as a… top,” Draco said, trying on the lingo.
Potter grinned. “I am, most of the time. But I have bottomed before, and I enjoy it. Granted it’s been a long time.” He took a sip of whiskey. “But that’s down the road too. I don’t want to get into fucking right away. There’s so much we can do before that. It’s really just one piece of a much larger picture.”
“All right,” Draco said. He could work with that. The thought of fucking Potter was… well, honestly, incredibly arousing. He’d seen that arse in action already, and he definitely wanted a piece of it, since Potter was offering. But he was willing to roll with this “curriculum” and see what other tricks Potter had in his repertoire.
“Anything else you don’t want to do, or are even just not sure about?” Potter asked him.
“I don’t think so. I’m going into this with an open mind. I think I’d like to at least try most things. Otherwise, how will I know what I really like?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Potter said, downing the rest of his drink. He stood to get another. “Can I top you off?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Potter poured another finger of whiskey into Draco’s glass, plus another for himself.
“So, to the next condition,” Potter said, coming to sit down again. “What you said, about walking away with no hard feelings, and never speaking of it again… Well, honestly, it rubbed me the wrong way, a bit.”
“How so?”
“Your implication seemed to be that we would fool around and fuck and do whatever we felt like doing, until one or both of us wanted to end it, and then we’d just pretend it never happened.”
Draco hesitated before answering, trying to parse out what part of that Potter found offensive. It had to be the final bit, surely. “I meant that if you wanted to pretend it never happened, we could do that. I didn’t say we had to.”
“Good. Because that never works, you know, the pretending thing. I don’t care how casual it is, when you sleep with someone, it changes things. Now, our friendship is new, which is better, in a way. The fact that things will change won’t feel so strange. Plus I think there has been some sexual tension between us since you arrived here, but maybe that was just on my end.”
“No, mine too,” Draco said softly. If Potter could admit it outright like that, so could he.
“Right. So the transition into sleeping together won’t be strange, but out of it… well… that’s when things get complicated.”
“You’re speaking from experience, I take it.”
“Sure. I’ve had a few bad breakups in my day. Sex can really make a mess of things. The key is honesty, I think, and being clear about what we want from the beginning. I think we’re doing that. But I also wanted to make it clear that while I’m not going to reveal to anyone else that we slept together, between us I’m certainly going to acknowledge that it happened. And I’m not going to just start avoiding you because it’s suddenly awkward. We work together; we’re going to be living in the same place nine months out of the year, especially if you decide to stay on here. What I really don’t want is for this to become messy and for us to have to avoid each other while we’re at Hogwarts. That’s just bad for everyone.”
“I agree,” Draco said. He hadn’t actually thought about it before now, but Potter made a good point.
“In truth, I’d like us to continue to be friends,” Potter said. “Which brings me to the final thing I want to say.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve slept with a lot of men. I will readily admit to it and am not ashamed of it. I’ve always made a point of treating my partners well and doing right by them, no matter how long we’re together, and I think that’s more important than how many partners I happen to have had.”
“Sure,” Draco said, surprised by the suddenly fervent quality of Potter’s voice.
“I also only sleep with people I really like, as people. I’m not much into having quickies in bathrooms or taking a bloke home for a one-off. I like spending time with the people I sleep with. I like talking to them, getting to know them. That’s part of the enjoyment for me. I know that you and I can’t date publically, but I’d like to think that we can… that it doesn’t just have to be about sex all the time. That gets old. I don’t want to just get off with you, Draco. Because I like you. You’re intelligent, and you say interesting things I’ve never thought about before, and you’re honest and brave even though you don’t believe you are half the time. Not to mention you have one of those dry senses of humor that I just… can’t get enough of.” He met Draco’s eyes. “If we’re going to do this, then we’re going to have fun while we do it, and we’re going to enjoy it, and enjoy each other. I have no interest in sex that feels like a business transaction. So we’re going to let it be natural, and be what it is. And when we feel like we’re done with the sexual aspect of it, we’re going to agree to continue to be friends, and spend time together, even if we’re not sleeping together anymore. Otherwise I’m not interested.”
Draco sat very still and quiet, trying to absorb all that. On the one hand, Potter’s words regarding what he liked about Draco sent a warmth through him that wasn’t merely sexual and was actually quite gratifying. On the other hand, the friendship Potter was describing for after the fact made Draco a bit nervous. Could that really work? Potter seemed convinced it would. And he knew better than Draco about these things. Not to mention, it seemed to be a dealbreaker, and Draco had come too far, had become too attached to this idea, to let it go.
“Potter…” he began.
“Harry,” Potter interrupted him. “My name is Harry. If we’re going to be getting to know each other as intimately as I believe we both want to, we’re going to use our first names. I’ll be damned if I let you cry out my surname while I’m making you come, Draco, I can tell you that right now.”
“All right… Harry,” Draco said, half of him amused at Potter’s indignation and the other half reveling in all the possible ways that Potter would be making him come in the near future. “First names only, and we’ll agree to be friends during and after.”
Potter eyed him a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure he believed that Draco meant it. Draco tilted his head, watching him, wondering what was hidden behind that look.
“You doubt me?”
Potter pursed his lips, and it made Draco think about how much he’d like to be done with the conversation and move onto the snogging. He put his glass down on the side table and moved closer to Potter.
“You didn’t answer. That’s not a good sign.”
“It’s not that I doubt you,” Potter said, his eyes traveling over Draco’s face. “You’re just difficult to read, sometimes.”
“And what exactly are you trying to find out?”
“Honestly?”
“Well, yes, it’s night one, Po – Harry. I would like to think we’d start off honest, at least.”
“I’m trying to figure out if you even like me.”
Draco raised his eyebrows at that, surprised. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Potter said. “I’ve just told you I like you, and what I like as well, and you’ve said nothing in return. Which perhaps shouldn’t surprise me, as I’ve been the one to initiate every stage of development in this friendship, essentially. This entire time I’ve had no idea if you’re simply putting up with me or if you actually like being in my company. Half the time I think it’s one thing and half the time the other.”
Draco allowed himself a soft smile as he reached up and ran a finger along the collar of Potter’s jumper. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you,” he said.
“I’d like to believe that’s true.”
“It is true.” Draco leaned in closer, so they were only inches apart.
“But you’ve also made it clear that sex is the priority for you, and it made me wonder.”
“Well, stop wondering,” Draco said with a coy smile. Potter rolled his eyes. “You want me to spell it out for you, then? Is that it? You want the truth?”
“Of course.”
“The truth is I… resented the hell out of you when I first saw you were teaching here.” Potter’s eyes widened incredulously, but he didn’t interrupt, and Draco pressed on. “You were happy and confident, and everyone loved you. And you looked so fit and… sexy.” His finger ghosted over the skin of Potter’s collarbone, and he saw the brunet’s expression soften. “It felt totally unfair, because I felt like such shit at the time. And then you kept coming to talk to me, and you asked me for drinks, and made it very difficult to dislike you. And I resented you even more for that.” He grinned and Potter laughed, his face inching closer to Draco’s. “But somewhere along the way I actually…” Draco wasn’t sure how much of this he really wanted to admit. But it seemed Potter wanted – or perhaps needed – to hear it. So he ran his hand up to cup the back of Potter’s neck and continued. “At some point I realized that resenting you was pointless, so I stopped. And then I found I actually enjoyed your company. You can make me laugh, which was not something I expected, and you’re so…” He trailed off, unsure how to put it into words without making it sound too romantic. He licked his lips and watched Potter do the same. “You are many of the things I expected you to be: passionate, honest… good. But you’re also… free, and unapologetic, and… wise. And you’ve got this bloody devious streak that I can’t get enough of.” Potter was close enough now that Draco could feel his brief laugh as a breath of air on his lips. “So, yes, Harry, to answer your question, I like you.” He pressed forward that final, tiny distance, enough that their lips were brushing together. “I want you.”
Potter seemed to be relishing the tension; he didn’t reply, nor did he complete the kiss. He let Draco hover there, waiting to see who would break it first.
Draco did. He couldn’t help himself. He needed to taste Potter again, and he’d already waited long enough, as far as he was concerned.
It didn’t take much more pressure to be suddenly kissing Potter properly, sliding his lips against the other man’s silky ones. The brunet responded immediately, running a hand up into Draco’s hair and grabbing on. Draco felt a thrill go through him, almost like the kind he felt when riding a broom into the wide open sky, only the wideness and openness was inside him rather than out.
Draco opened his mouth so their tongues could collide, spurred on by Potter’s enthusiasm for him. One of his hands gripped into the softness of Potter’s jumper while the other roamed the solid muscles of Potter’s back. He groaned at the thought of how much he wanted to feel that skin for himself, and at the realization that he could.
The hand sneaked under the bottom edge of the jumper and past the t-shirt underneath, finding a line of warm bare skin. His fingers brushed along it teasingly, making Potter’s lips shudder against his, before Draco started to snake the hand upwards, under the fabric. The skin he found there was an expanse of smoothness punctuated with thin bands of scarring that were slightly bumpy under his fingers. Rather than being repulsed, though, Draco felt a surge of excitement at the intimacy of being able to trace those unseen scars and make Potter shiver with his touch.
“Draco,” Potter gasped, and that sound emboldened him, and he suddenly felt he had to be closer.
He pitched forward, practically tackling Potter until the brunet was lying underneath him on the sofa. Potter released a breathy laugh but seemed to have no complaints, as his hands were starting to explore Draco’s abdomen as well, pulling at the button-down shirt that was tucked into Draco’s trousers.
In this position they were finally flush against each other, and Draco could properly feel the landscape of Potter’s muscles, not to mention the rather obvious erection that was digging into his hip. Draco was already far gone, but feeling the signs of Potter’s desire for him made him harder still, almost painfully so. He found himself rocking against Potter automatically, the need for friction impossible to quell.
It was then that Potter decided to take control, managing to slide out from under Draco and flip them over. He stared down at the blond, his eyes bright and his lips red and swollen from the snogging. He smiled, his gaze darkening with mischief.
“Lesson one,” he said, his voice still mostly breath. “Coming with your clothes still on.”
Draco laughed, at least until Potter slid up him just a bit farther and rutted their hard cocks together. Then he was moaning, amazed at how bloody brilliant that felt, like sweet fire. He hooked an ankle around Potter’s calf to brace himself, and returned Potter’s well placed rocking with movements of his own, all the while reaching for Potter’s mouth again.
He found it, and they snogged openly and messily for a bit as they rocked and rutted, the sweetness, the tension, the need in Draco’s groin slowly building.
But then Potter had other plans, as his mouth drifted from Draco’s lips to his cheek, then, jaw, then neck, sucking and nipping all the way. A clever hand was working at Draco’s shirt, and before he knew it there were buttons undone and a nipple exposed. Potter tongued it, rolling around the nub until it peaked and hardened, before grazing it with his teeth. Sparks of pleasure zipped straight into Draco’s cock, and Draco almost thought he would come from that alone.
“P-P-” Draco stuttered, before remembering, through the fog, what exactly Potter wanted to hear. “H-Harry,” he managed with shuddering breath. “Oh, yes, fuck! Yes.” Potter had the nipple in his mouth and was sucking and sucking.
He was going to come. Draco couldn’t believe that from merely dry-humping Harry Potter on a sofa he was actually going to come, but he was. His entire body was reaching for climax, arching and tightening, finally grabbing onto Potter’s arse and pressing him even closer.
“Oh, Draco!” The need in Potter’s voice was its own aphrodisiac, and so Draco did it again, grinding himself against Potter with abandon and eliciting an actual whimper from the Gryffindor.
“Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Draco repeated as he humped desperately, realizing that his peak was coming, inevitable, and with the all the speed and power of a freight train. “Oh, yes… yes… oh!” He held on tight as his orgasm ripped through him, the kind he could feel all the way in his toes. It vaguely registered, as his body shook with a couple of aftershocks, that Potter was gripping him tightly as well, moaning into his neck and thrusting in tiny movements, as if wringing out the last of his pleasure.
Finally spent, Draco felt himself relax into the sofa. There was an undeniable stickiness in his trousers, but other than that he felt bloody fantastic. Potter had collapsed partially on top of him, and he could feel the man’s breath on the skin of his half-exposed collarbone.
They lay there for a bit, panting and listening to the pounding of their hearts, before Potter lifted himself up and gave Draco a peck on the lips.
“I’ll clean us up,” he said.
“Might be a bit of a losing battle,” Draco said, though this didn’t much bother him. He would simply change before his patrol. “Haven’t you ever tried scourgifying semen from fabric? It never works.”
“I have a different method,” said Potter. He waved his wand over them both and Draco felt the cold wetness vanish, leaving him clean and dry.
“How did you…? Nevermind,” Draco said. “Of course you’ve mastered that spell, whatever it is.”
“It’s something I picked up from the Aurors, actually,” Potter replied. “They mainly used it to get blood out of clothing, but it works just as well for this.”
“Come in your pants often, do you?” Draco asked with a grin.
“It’s actually been quite a while since I came like that.” Potter put his wand away and returned to lying half on top of Draco. "But I actually like it. Should do it more often, really."
“I haven’t come like that since I was sixteen,” Draco said. “Brings me back. Makes me feel like a kid again.” They both chuckled lazily, sated and happy. Draco ran his fingers through Potter’s hair as he relaxed further into the sofa, enjoying the weight of Potter’s body on him.
With his eyes closed, he realized how easy it would be for him to drift off into post-orgasmic sleep. But he couldn’t. He had a shift in a couple of hours.
“Help me stay awake,” he said to Potter, who grunted a question in response. “I have the early shift at 2.”
Potter lifted his head to look at him. “I didn’t realize that,” he said. “I would have picked another night.”
“I could have told you,” Draco said. “But I wanted it to be tonight. I didn’t… want to wait.” He realized he was revealing too much in his post-coital daze and cleared his throat. “But now I need help staying awake, otherwise I might miss it.”
Potter reached for his wand again. “Let’s set an alarm, just in case.” Draco arched a brow at him. “You never know,” said Potter. “We still have over two hours. Who knows what sort of activities we might feel like repeating?”
Draco laughed. “If I come again I’ll definitely fall asleep.”
Potter relaxed against him, the alarm now set. “We’ll see,” he said.
“Hmm,” Draco hummed skeptically, but he let it go. He felt his eyes drift closed, all of him soft and languid in the heat of Potter’s body and the fire in front of them.
No! he reminded himself. No sleeping! He had to do something to keep himself awake. And chatting with Potter, he supposed, was as good an option as any.
“What made you decide you wanted to become an Auror after the war?” he asked out of the silence. He’d always wondered about that, about why, after spending all those years running from and fighting the Dark Lord, Potter would want to go and do it some more with other evil wizards. The idea seemed exhausting to him.
Potter didn’t reply right away, but his fingers were tracing the skin just above the band of Draco’s trousers, and Draco knew he wasn’t asleep. He adjusted himself against Draco after a moment and answered.
“I suppose I didn’t know what else I could possibly do. It seemed like I was made for one thing, and that one thing defined me. It was all I thought I was good at.”
“Catching criminals?”
“Essentially.” Potter lifted his head, looking up at Draco with hazy eyes. “Fighting, dueling, running after people. Being in dangerous situations. It was what I knew. I know it sounds strange to say it, but for a while I was more comfortable being in danger than out of it. Hermione said it was something about the trauma of having Voldemort looming over me for most of my life, how I never really knew what it meant to feel safe.”
“Do you think she was right?”
“I don’t know.” Potter rested his chin on one of his hands. “Hermione likes coming up with theories about things, and most of the time they sound quite good. But sometimes when I really think about them I realize I don’t agree. That particular one I’m in a bit iffy on. After all, I almost always felt safe at Hogwarts.”
“Mm,” Draco said. “Me too. Most of the time.”
“Maybe that’s why I came back here, in the end. I don’t know. I don’t worry much about the why, really. All I knew was, I was tired of being an Auror. The field work, which had always been my favorite part, was starting to wear on me. And I already didn’t like the bit about being stuck behind a desk doing paperwork half the time. I liked bringing suspects in, but I never much liked processing them.” He grinned suddenly. “And I was always a bit pants at interrogation, though I think my skills have improved in that regard.”
Draco tilted his head to look at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I got you to admit that you actually like me, and that’s a real feat, don’t you think?”
Draco pinched him in the side, making him yelp. “Git,” he said.
“Prat,” Potter replied, pinching him back.
Draco laughed and tried to fight him off, but then Potter was snogging him again and exploring the skin exposed by his half-open shirt, and Draco had no interest in resisting that.
We’ll find plenty of ways to stay awake, he thought with satisfaction as he returned the kisses fervently and then rolled them over so he was on top again. Plenty of ways indeed.
***
Draco was grinning like a fool by the time he left Potter’s quarters to return to his own. They’d spent the past couple of hours snogging, chatting, laughing, and then, as Potter had predicted, frotting themselves to completion once more, this time letting their hands get more involved in order to bring each other off. Not that Draco was complaining. Potter’s warm and calloused hand wrapping around his cock for the first time was a sensation that was likely going to stay with him for a long time.
I suppose I really should start calling him ‘Harry,’ he admitted to himself. If only to avoid confusion or slips of the tongue.
Potter seemed more like “Harry” now than before, but it was still strange, feeling almost taboo. It would take some getting used to.
Once in his quarters he changed back into his teaching robes and did what he could to fix his hair. His bright eyes and rather red lips, though, he wasn’t sure he could do much about. He did splash some cold water on his face, if only to manage the flush in his cheeks that was still present after the thorough snogging session they’d had right before he left. He kept insisting he had to go on patrol, but Potter’s – Harry’s – lips had been so tempting that he couldn’t bring himself to stop kissing them. It had taken quite a bit of willpower, plus a glance at the clock to see just how close he was cutting it, to finally break away.
Merlin, I really am acting like a teenager, he thought, but instead of feeling embarrassed about it he just felt rather giddy.
Proof of what a couple of orgasms can do for one’s mood.
He was a bit chagrined, however. to find that that staff member he was taking over for that evening was Francesca, if only because she was bound to notice his good mood more than anyone. She was definitely eyeing him carefully as he approached.
“Pleasant evening so far?” she asked him.
“Pleasant enough,” he replied, fighting a grin with all his might. “And you? No trouble, I hope.”
“Just a couple getting rather handsy in an alcove before curfew,” Francesca replied. “But nothing else.”
“Ah, yes, well, you know how they are. Can’t keep their hands off each other half the time. Kids will be kids, and all that.”
“Indeed,” Francesca said, giving him a funny look. “Anyhow, if I were you I’d start by the library and work your way around that wing. It’s been an hour since I checked that part of the castle.”
“Very good,” Draco said heartily. “Have a lovely rest of your night.”
“You too, Draco,” she replied, and she almost looked on the verge of laughing at him.
Oh well, Draco thought as he made his way towards the library, no longer particularly concerned. He was in too good a mood to worry about whether Francesca Bianchi found his behavior strange.
He would simply let the night pass quickly, wandering the castle with thoughts of Harry in his head.
***
Draco had always liked the tactility of chalk between his fingers. He couldn’t explain why. There was just something about the dry dust collecting on his skin that made him feel like his intellectual work was in some way physical, like as he instructed students, gathered data, or worked through a problem the layers of white that built up on his thumb and index finger were somehow marking the time he had invested, the figurative sweat equity of a job well done.
He knew many of the students found it strange that he wrote out instructions longhand, rather than magically, but he didn’t care. He did it anyway, just for the small joy of it. If they wanted to judge him for it, they were free to do so.
“Who can tell me,” he said, rolling the chalk between his fingers as he looked around at a classroom full of 4^th year students, “how renowned potioneer Agatha Alkew was able to make blood-replenishing potions more marketable at the turn of the 20^th century?” He looked around the room, waiting for a hand to pop up. He arched a brow. “No one? Here’s a hint. She changed a key ingredient. What was it?”
He was met with silence, with a few students in the front row shifting uncomfortably in their seats. It was times like these that Draco almost wished he wore spectacles, simply so he could look over them disapprovingly at his students when they showed themselves this ignorant. He sighed.
“Apparently no one has done the reading,” he said drily. “Or perhaps you thought skimming it and simply noting that it was about basic Healing potions would be enough to let you slide through the period? Well, ten points from Hufflepuff and Slytherin both, then.”
There was subdued bemoaning from the Hufflepuffs and cries of indignation from the Slytherins, who apparently thought that a fellow Slytherin would never take points from his own house. How willing Draco was to prove them wrong.
“You’re honestly shocked at that? Shall I make it twenty each instead?”
That shut them up. With a satisfied smile Draco returned to his blackboard, writing out the homework assignment. “Since none of you could tell me that it was in fact the spines of Solanum – common name ‘devil’s thorn’ – that Alkew replaced with Sundew hair, I’ll be expecting a two-foot essay, due next Monday, on the properties of both the Solanum and the Sundew and how their effects compare when used in blood replenishing potions. Anyone who fails to grasp the essential characteristics of each in their essay can expect a night of detention with me scrubbing cauldrons. Are we clear?”
There was another round of groaning at this, but, personally, Draco thought he was being perfectly fair. Slughorn had had a habit of blatant favoritism – that, everyone already knew – but it was also becoming apparent that the man had let pretty much all his students get away with cutting corners. Perhaps he was simply getting apathetic in this final years at Hogwarts. Whatever the reason, he’d trained a student body that was content with doing the minimum when it came to Potions, and Draco’d had enough. He was going to whip his younger students into shape, one way or another.
He dismissed the class (who was all still looking sullen), and sat down behind his desk a moment to record the assignment he’d just given in his lesson planner. It meant more essays to read a week from now, but better that than them all continuing to live in ignorance.
At least McNeal will get the question when I have her and the other Gryffindors tomorrow, Draco thought, feeling a bit better. He knew at least she would have done the reading. Perhaps he wouldn’t be forced to assign such an extensive essay, if the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws showed themselves to be more knowledgeable than his 4^th years today.
He sensed a presence in the doorway and glanced up. Harry was standing there, watching him. Draco felt his cheeks flush, remembering their quite enjoyable escapades a few nights ago. They’d certainly seen each other since then, had meals together, or chatted briefly between classes. But they hadn’t been alone together yet. Draco could only hope that Harry had come to remedy that.
“You should hear what those students in the corridor are saying about you,” Harry said, his tone full of amusement.
“Calling me a hardarse and a slimy git, I imagine,” Draco said, making a point to seem unfazed by it.
“On the kinder end of things, yes,” Harry said with a laugh, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. “What is it that you did to earn such ire, may I ask?”
“I expected them to do the work I assigned to them.”
Harry feigned shock. “The nerve of you!”
“Yes, quite the tyrant am I.”
Harry laughed, his whole face brightening, and Draco grinned at him.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Professor Potter?”
Harry licked his lips, perhaps enjoying the subtext of that, just as Draco had intended. “I’ve brought you something.”
“Oh?”
Harry nodded, then extracted something from his pocket. It was small enough to fit in his palm, and Draco didn’t really get a proper look at it until Harry placed it on the desk in front of him.
It was a folded paper dragon, intricate enough – with scales, teeth, and spines down its back – that it had to have been done by magic.
Draco looked at Harry. “You made that?”
“I did,” said Harry. “But it’s not just decorative. It has a purpose. Watch.”
He took a bit of parchment out of his pocket, borrowed Draco’s quill, and wrote something down on it. Then he tapped the parchment with his wand, and the little dragon reared up, blowing paper smoke out of its tiny nostrils. Draco watched the whole thing, confused.
“Tap your wand on the dragon,” Harry instructed.
Draco did, and the dragon began to unfold itself until it resembled nothing but a flat piece of parchment resting on the desk. Draco loomed over it and saw that there were words written on it.
Care to join me for lunch? it read.
Draco looked up at Harry again. “All that just to ask me for lunch?” he said.
Harry laughed. “No. I was just demonstrating. Although I am hoping you’ll have lunch with me. But the point is, I can write anything I want to you, anytime I want, and no one will be able to read the message but you.”
It was finally clicking for Draco. “This is a Protean Charm, isn’t it?”
“Two-way,” Harry said nodding. “It works if you want to write to me too. I’ve made it very simple. All you have to do is tap to erase the message I sent. Then write your own and when it’s ready, tap again to send it to me. My folded paper will activate to let me know I have a message, just like your dragon did. This will let us communicate to each other about meeting up without anyone suspecting us. I figured the constantly visiting each other in our classrooms would get a bit… obvious.”
“It’s… brilliant,” Draco said. In truth, it was more than that. It was ingenious, a perfect blend of form and function. Not to mention a lovely, elegant, and rather stunning bit of magic.
“I thought of it after I sent you that note about meeting up and I realized you had no convenient way to reply to me. This seemed like a nice solution.”
“It is,” Draco agreed. “And now I have this exquisite paper dragon to display on my desk.”
Harry smiled, obviously pleased.
“Is yours a dragon as well? Or perhaps a lion,” Draco added, arching a brow.
“No, it’s a stag.” He tapped his wand on his own parchment, and it folded itself into a buck with a full rack of antlers. He held it up for Draco to see.
“Fitting for you, I suppose,” Draco teased.
“It’s the form of my Patronus!” Harry said indignantly before rolling his eyes. “Prat.”
Draco snickered, enjoying Harry’s (mostly exaggerated) annoyance. “Come on, let’s go to lunch. I’m starving.”
“Wait,” Harry said, putting the paper stag in his pocket. “While I have you alone…”
Draco’s stomach flipped with anticipation. “Yes?”
“When can I see you next? Privately, I mean. I have patrol Wednesday and Saturday this week, but any other night would work.”
Draco thought about that, about his own schedule, and also about the fact that he didn’t want to wait too long before he got to spend real time with Harry again. “How about… tonight?”
Harry smiled. “Tonight, then. My rooms? 10 o’clock again?”
Draco nodded. Harry stepped closer.
“Good,” he said softly. Then he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Draco’s lips that made Draco’s heart stutter in his chest. It was over far too soon. “We probably shouldn’t do much of that in our classrooms anymore, lest we get caught,” Harry said. “But I wanted to, at least once more.”
Draco didn’t reply, only swallowed and nodded again. Harry chuckled.
“Come on. Let’s have lunch.”
goddess-of_dragons: I agree. What Draco thought he wanted would not be satisfying for me at all. But he’s learning things about himself in this process as well. And as far as what Harry wants… well, the characters (including Harry) are a little confused about that right now. At this point they’re just acting on an irresistible attraction.
Annecia89: Lol thanks! I wish I was Draco too! Don’t worry, this attraction will be thoroughly fulfilled throughout the chapters to come. But there will be some angst once the relationship deepens, fair warning!
LadyShire: Well, naughty girl, technically, not that I worry too much about subscribing to strict gender binaries ;) I’m (kinda) sorry for the cliffie but the chapter was long enough already. I hope this makes up for it. It feels good to know I brighten your day with my writing. I hope all is well in your world, though!
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Secondary Education