Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.

Chapter the Fifty-eighth: Power as an Aphrodisiac?
26 January, evening

After the entertaining dinner, Harry and Draco had a quick meeting with the headmaster. Dumbledore agreed that Hermione’s theory was sound, but warned the boys not to let their guard down. After that, they joined Hermione and Ron for a study session in the library. It was a bit awkward at times—old habits die hard and Draco had to stop himself from insulting Ron more than once—but for the most part went smoothly. Harry was happy that it went well, but didn’t think that his friends would be playing lookout while he and Draco snogged in the stacks any time soon.

After leaving the library, Harry and Draco headed for the dungeons.

“Harry, are you coming with me to my room because you want to be with me or because you think I need protecting from the other Slytherins?” Draco asked as they walked.

Harry hesitated, then answered truthfully: “Both.”

Draco stopped and looked at Harry, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. “Harry, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Especially with the Slytherins. I’m going to have to deal with this at some point and getting it over with tonight is what I plan to do.”

“I know that,” Harry said, putting his hand on Draco’s arm. “I do.”

“Then why do you think I need your protection?” Draco threw his arms in the air and glared at Harry.

“C’mon, we just announced to everyone that we’re together and now we’re going to have our first fight?” Harry tried to joke Draco out of his mood. Draco just looked at him.

Harry sighed. “Look, Draco, if it bothers you, don’t think of it as me coming along to ‘protect’ you—just think of me as…back up. It never hurts to have back up, right? Besides, I plan to be under my Invisibility Cloak when anyone else is around. No one will even know I’m there. I promise, I won’t interfere unless things get really ugly or something. I just…I just have a bad feeling about how the other Slytherins are going to react. So…just humour me, all right?” He put his arms around Draco’s waist and smiled at him. “And I do want to be with you—we haven’t been alone together since…well, it feels like ages. Don’t you want to be with me?”

Draco sighed and relented. He slid his arms around Harry. “Yes, of course I do. I just…I don’t want people thinking I’m weak because of what Bellatrix did to me, that’s all. A Slytherin—especially me, a turncoat Slytherin—can’t afford to be seen as weak. Do you understand?”

“Of course,” Harry pressed his mouth to Draco’s briefly. “And I don’t think you’re weak—far from it.”

Draco kissed Harry back then stepped back. Taking Harry’s hand, he nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Harry donned his Cloak before descending to the dungeons. He slipped in behind Draco as he entered the Slytherin common room. Harry noted that it hadn’t changed much since his only other visit there in second year. Surprisingly, it was mostly empty, with only a few younger students present playing Exploding Snap. They looked up at Draco when he entered. Draco simply sent them a cold stare and they quickly returned to their game.

Harry followed Draco down the corridor to his room. Draco took down some wards and unlocked the door. Once settled in the room, Harry removed his Cloak and looked around.

“Nice,” he said, taking in the ornately carved furnishings. He was surprised to see only two beds in the room. “Do you always ward your room? And why do you and Blaise have your own room?”

Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry as he hung up his cloak. “Yes, I always ward my room—this is Slytherin, Harry. And what do you mean, why do Blaise and I have our own room?”

“Well, in Gryffindor, all of the students in the same year share a room,” Harry said, prowling around a bit. “Separated by gender, of course. I just assumed it was the same in all the houses.”

Draco shuddered. “You mean, all of you share one room? What—all six of you? Gods, how uncivilised. How do you stand it?”

“Five,” Harry corrected. “There are five of us 6th-years. I don’t mind it. It’s fun, most of the time.”

“What do you do for privacy?” Draco asked.

“What do you think Silencing and Locking Charms are for?” Harry retorted, smiling.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Thank Merlin I’m not in your situation. I don’t think I could stand it.”

Harry moved over to Draco and wrapped his arms around him. “Well, I’m not going to complain that you only have one roommate. It gives us some very nice privacy now—want to take advantage of it?”

Draco lifted a brow as he ran his hands up Harry’s chest. He started walking Harry backwards towards his bed. “Most definitely.”

He leaned in and met Harry’s mouth in a long, deep kiss. The kiss moved quickly from slow to greedy—tongues warred with each other as hands took themselves over and under clothing. Draco stripped off Harry’s shirt and let his hands wander the planes of Harry’s smooth chest. Harry moaned into Draco’s mouth when Draco’s thumbs brushed over his nipples. His hands had just moved to unbutton Draco’s shirt when a loud knock at the door interrupted them.

“Fuck!” Draco cursed. Before he had managed to disentangle himself from Harry, Theodore Nott’s voice could be heard.

“Open up, Malfoy! We want to have a word with you!”

Harry grabbed his shirt and wrapped himself in his Invisibility Cloak. “I’m here if you need you need me,” he whispered, then moved to stand against the far wall, next to Draco’s desk.

Draco smoothed his hair and made sure his burgeoning erection was concealed. Concealing his wand in his pocket, he moved to the door as Nott pounded on it again. “We know you’re in there, Malfoy! Open the—”

Draco swung the door open before Nott could finish his demand. “Something I can do you for you, Nott?” he drawled.

Nott didn’t wait for an invitation, but pushed his way into the room. He was followed by Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe.

“Do make yourselves at home,” Draco said sarcastically.

“Drop the Lord of the Manor bit, Malfoy. We’ve got business with you,” Nott growled.

“So you said,” Draco replied lightly. “Seeing as I have other, more interesting, things to do with my time, why don’t you spit out what you have to say so I can go back to enjoying my evening in peace?”

Draco moved casually to stand near his bed. He didn’t like leaving his back unguarded and from this position the only person who would be behind him was Harry.

“Are you really fucking Potter?” Goyle blurted out, surprising Draco.

“Yes,” Draco said simply.

“Why?” Crabbe asked, again surprising Draco. He’d expected Nott to start right in with his change in loyalties, but apparently Crabbe and Goyle had other priorities.

Draco considered. “Well, obviously, because I want to, Crabbe. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed how hot he is.”

Crabbe flushed and didn’t have an answer to this. Nott took advantage of his discomfiture to take back control of the conversation.

“So, you’re buggering the Boy-Who-Lived. Did you let him put his cock up your arse before or after you decided to betray the Dark Lord?” he sneered.

Draco tensed but didn’t let it show. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted Harry here—he hadn’t wanted Harry to hear this kind of crap.

“That would be after,” he replied calmly. “I didn’t start seeing Harry until just recently, but I decided against following in my insane father’s footsteps a few weeks after he nearly Crucio’d me to death.”

Pansy gasped, Crabbe and Goyle looked gobsmacked and even Nott appeared taken aback. “What did you say, Malfoy?” Nott demanded.

“Draco, did your father really use the Cruciatus on you?” Pansy asked.

Draco gave his attention to Pansy. “Yes. Repeatedly.”

“Why? When?” she wanted to know.

“Why? Other than because he was insane, you mean? Yes, Pansy, Lucius was quite insane. I think he was headed there after the Dark Lord returned, but his stint in Azkaban seemed to have pushed him right over the edge. You should have heard some of the things that he’d say on one of his rants.

“But, I digress. You asked me why Lucius tortured me. This past summer, he came to see me at the Manor. He told me the Dark Lord wanted me to join his service earlier than originally planned. When—”

“When you chickened out and refused, he cursed you?” Nott sneered. “Chickenshit like you deserved it!”

Draco took a tight rein on his temper. “No, Nott, that’s not quite what happened. In fact, I was pleased to be asked to join. It was when I suggested that I put off taking the Dark Mark so that I could serve as a spy here at Hogwarts that Lucius decided Crucio-ing me half to death would be a lovely idea.”

Nott looked at him, unsure. “That doesn’t make any sense. Lucius wouldn’t have done that.”

Casually, Draco withdrew his wand from his pocket and fingered it. “Are you accusing me of lying, Nott? Funny, I don’t recall you being there, so who are you to tell me what Lucius did or did not do to me?”

Pansy stepped in. “Why did Lucius do that, Draco?”

“Lucius believed that I was refusing to take the Dark Mark, full stop. I wasn’t, I assure you. You know quite well that we’ve all spent our lives being prepared to serve the Dark Lord. Why would I suddenly refuse? I was thrilled that I was going to be allowed to join before I was fully of age. After all, I believed everything Lucius did. I tried to explain to Lucius that he misunderstood me, but he refused to listen. He completely lost it. Pansy, you knew Lucius for years. Did you ever see him lose his temper?”

Pansy shook her head. “No, never. He was always very…cold…when he was angry.”

“Well, not the new-and-improved insane Lucius. He went berserk and started ranting and raving about all kinds of ridiculous things. He refused to listen to anything I had to say. Before I knew what was happening, he’d pulled out his wand and cast Crucio on me. And not just once—I recall at least three times before I passed out from the pain.”

Pansy winced. “Gods, Draco, I’m sorry. I had no idea you went through that.”

Nott wasn’t so easily swayed. “All right, so your dad went nuts and cursed you. Still doesn’t explain why you’ve gone and joined up with Potter and Dumblefuck.”

Draco looked at him incredulously. “Are you really that dim, Nott? Gods, I’d always credited you with having some intelligence. Obviously, I was wrong, so I’ll spell it out for you. My father,” Draco spat the word, “went insane because of the Dark Lord. After he did that to me, I realised how blind I’d been—how blind we’ve all been! The Dark Lord is insane and a liar and the last person in the world I want to follow! Once I’d opened my eyes and started thinking for myself, I understood.

“Slytherins are supposed to be proud and intelligent, clever and strong, and able to stand up for ourselves and what we believe. But we’ve been doing nothing but mindlessly following a madman who was defeated by a toddler! A toddler that has since grown up to be a teenager who has faced and defeated the all-powerful Dark Lord not once, but three times! Is this who we really want to pledge our allegiance to? A nutter who can be defeated so easily?

“I decided that I wasn’t going to be a mindless idiot any more. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life cowering in fear before a half-alive lunatic wizard that can’t even defeat a half-trained wizard my own age! And if you have any sense at all, you might want to take a good, hard look at who it is you swear you want to follow before you end up as insane as my father!”

By the time Draco finished his impassioned speech, he was breathing hard. He hadn’t meant to get so worked up, but it suddenly bothered him that the people he’d called friends for so long could end up following a madman just because they didn’t know any better.

There was silence in the room for a few moments, before Nott spoke up once again. “I still think you’re just a coward, Malfoy. Everyone knows that Potter just got lucky those few times and he wouldn’t still be alive today if Dumbledore hadn’t been there to save his arse. The Dark Lord is right—Mudbloods are ruining the Wizarding World. The only good wizard is a pureblood wizard. Potter and Dumbledore will be dead soon and then where will you be? Dead as they are! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on your hands and knees and beg the Dark Lord’s forgiveness right now before it’s too late!”

“I can see that you refuse to be swayed by logic, Nott. Pity. You’ve nothing else to say that could possibly interest me, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave my room,” Draco said, his tone bored but firm at the same time.

“Or what, Malfoy? You’ll run crying to your little boyfriend?” Nott sneered.

Draco didn’t rise to the bait. “I believe I asked you to leave. Please do so immediately.”

Nott pulled out his wand. “Let’s see if you’re man enough to make me, Malfoy. Or maybe having Potter’s cock up your arse has turned you into a little girl.”

“Don’t make me hex you, Nott,” Draco lifted his wand slightly in warning.

Nott advanced on Draco menacingly. “C’mon, faggot, you scared?”

Draco was prepared to fight, but before he could even point his wand, Nott was lifted off his feet and thrown violently against the far wall. His head hit the stone wall with a loud crack! Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle goggled as Nott slid to the floor, stunned.

Recovering swiftly, Draco sneered. “What’s wrong, Nott? Haven’t you been practicing your wandless, nonverbal magic? Shame, shame, the Dark Lord will be so displeased.”

Turning to the other three Slytherins, Draco said, “I believe I’ve lost interest in this conversation. Kindly take your idiot friend and leave. If any of you wish to rationally discuss this further, feel free to see me tomorrow.”

Goyle and Crabbe dragged Nott to his feet and helped him out of Draco’s room. Pansy gave Draco a long, speculative look before following them out.

After locking and re-warding the door, Draco turned to see Harry standing, Invisibility Cloak in hand, with a guilty-looking expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, Draco, please don’t be angry. I know I said I wouldn’t interfere, but I just couldn’t stop myself! Please tell me you aren’t angry with—mmmf!”

Harry’s words were silenced by Draco’s tongue in his mouth. Relief washed over him as he returned the kiss. Draco’s mouth was relentless, his tongue sweeping deep in Harry’s mouth, his teeth nipping at Harry’s tongue. Harry finally had to tear himself away just to breathe.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” he panted, holding on to Draco’s shoulders for balance.

Draco pulled him closer and nipped at his chin before moving his mouth down Harry’s neck. “Ummm…nothing to forgive, love. That was absolutely brilliant,” he murmured, between nips to Harry’s flesh. “I…ummm…you taste so good…swear I could feel…” He bit down hard on the tendon connecting Harry’s neck and shoulder and sucked for a moment. Harry groaned and clutched at Draco’s shoulders.

“Feel what?” he gasped.

Draco lifted his head to look at Harry. His eyes had gone pewter and Harry’s groin tightened seeing the lust in them. He pushed Harry towards the bed.

“I could feel your power, Harry,” Draco said, never looking away from Harry’s darkened eyes. “Feel it. And, gods, it made me so fucking hot…” Draco pushed Harry down on his bed and started tearing at the buttons of his own shirt. “I have to have you now, Harry. Get your damn clothes off and let me have you now!”

Draco didn’t give Harry time to move however, before he leapt on top of him and started devouring his mouth again. His hands never stopped moving, over Harry’s chest, down his sides, back over his chest to toy with his nipples, then down again to rip open the fly of his jeans. Draco’s mouth was a fever, burning a path down Harry’s throat, across his collarbone, searing both of his nipples with its heat before travelling down, down, down his stomach, down past his navel, down to his rock-hard erection and engulfing it in hot, wet ecstasy.

Harry could do nothing to fight against the tide of Draco’s passion—so he gave in and let it sweep him away. He couldn’t think, he could only feel. He was awash in sensations, sensations that overtook him so rapidly he couldn’t separate them, could only let them overlap until they swallowed him down a dark, endless tunnel of pleasure.

Harry felt himself explode in Draco’s mouth, coming for what seemed like an eternity. He gasped for air, hands falling weakly from their death-grip in Draco’s hair to his sides. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think, he wasn’t even all that sure where he was. Harry thought he might have even passed out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, he was being passionately kissed and long, slick fingers were buried deep in his arse, stretching and preparing him for more.

Harry moaned. Draco could feel it reverberate in his mouth, in his chest. In some very distant part of his brain, the thought that he should perhaps slow down and give Harry a moment to recover made itself known, but the need that was driving him wouldn’t allow it. There was a fire inside Draco, a fire that had built itself into a towering inferno and he knew the only way to dowse the flames was to spend himself inside Harry’s body.

In a frenzy of passion, Draco kissed every part of Harry’s face as his fingers worked Harry’s tight passageway relentlessly. He bit down on one of Harry’s pecs, deliberately nudging Harry’s prostate with his fingers as he did. Harry arched his back and cried out his pleasure. Draco repeated the nips and nudges until Harry was writhing and sobbing beneath him.

This is what Draco needed—Harry incoherent in his need for him, desperate in his need for him, mindless in his need for him. Lubing his hard, aching cock with a quickly whispered spell, Draco plunged himself hard and deep into Harry’s clenching orifice. Harry’s wanton cries and pleas for more urged him on as he pounded himself over and over, harder and faster, into his lover’s hot, tight tunnel. Harry’s back arched and his nails scored Draco’s back when Draco shifted himself so that the head of his cock slammed into Harry’s sweet spot with every deep thrust. When Harry’s orgasm overtook him, the spasmodic clenching of his muscles around Draco’s length was all it took to yank Draco to the edge. With one final thrust, Draco threw himself into the abyss, spilling his seed deep within Harry’s body as he fell.

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A/N: Let me know what you think! Oh, and I forgot to say in the last chapter that I completely made up the name of Blaise Zabini’s father. I once knew a kid named Enzo and always thought it was a cool name.

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