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 Six

Draco was well aware that Harry was avoiding him, although why, he couldn't say.
News had come on Tuesday of the attack on Malfoy Manor, and the death of his father. His mother had refused to disown him with Lucius dead, something Draco did not fully understand. His mother was not the sentimental type, not even to her only child.
Lucius's death had been a relief, if Draco felt anything at all for the man's passing. It was Harry's final parting gift to him. He had no doubt of that. The older Harry had been very concerned for Draco's safety. It seemed natural that the man would ensure it with the ease that came with such power.
Draco sighed, glaring at the current manifestation of Harry as the boy picked at his food in the Great Hall. Harry had been suspiciously missing from any class he shared with Draco, and there was talk that he was thinking of dropping Quidditch. Draco was not pleased.
It had been over two weeks since Draco had any physical contact with the maddening Gryffindor, and he was certain he was going to lose his mind.
“I don't understand why you just don't go talk to him,” Blaise muttered, not oblivious to Draco's forlorn sighs.
Draco frowned, not sure either. Potter had made his choice, and Draco had to respect that. If Harry truly wanted him, he would have made an attempt, any kind at all, to see him. “He's not interested.”
“Oh, he's interested. He's so interested he has to make an extreme effort to look at anything but you,” Blaise said with certainty. Draco raised his brows, watching Harry with purpose. The boy was deliberately not looking near the Slytherin table at all. The bastard.
Blaise gave a dangerous smirk. “I bet I could fix it for you, Draco.”
“Oh?” Draco pulled his eyes away from Harry to find Blaise giving him his most suggestive look. “Ah, that might be a bit dangerous,” Draco warned, remembering Harry's very possessive insistence that Draco belonged only to him. Then again, Harry had refused to talk to him since, the ass. No, Draco was not happy.
Blaise shrugged. “Well, if it doesn't work, at least I got a kiss out of it. But I'm pretty sure you'll have Potter at your feet pretty quick if you remind him what he's missing.”
Draco eyed his friend, who was now leaning precariously close to his face. Blaise was looking for trouble, Draco realized. Probably tired of being single. Not that Blaise was bad looking. It was odd that the boy was still unattached being handsome and intelligent. There was something very wrong with the other available men in this school to pass Blaise up.
“So, what do you say?” Blaise asked, whispering into Draco's ear, lips brushing against the shell lightly.
Draco's breath hitched, not from the contact but because after two weeks Harry was very definitely staring at him. Draco didn't have to look, he could feel Harry's stare like a touch when the Gryffindor finally turned his full attention to him from across the room.
“Blaise, as glad as I am this is working, I am very concerned for your safety right now.” Draco carefully pushed Blaise away, troubled when the boy resisted. “I don't want to see you get hurt, and believe me, that is exactly what is going to happen if you don't back off.”
Harry was glaring holes, and Draco had to close his eyes, very much missing the boy. Draco didn't have any anger in him at the moment, just a hollow feeling inside that grew when Harry made no sign of approach. Feeling rejected and tired, Draco decided it was time to crawl under his covers and sleep the Saturday away.
Draco got up and stepped over the bench. He walked to the Great Hall doors, refusing to look at Harry. He had wasted enough time on the idiot as it was. Draco tried and failed to ignore the pain it caused.
There was a commotion behind him, a tense murmur. Draco chanced a peek over his shoulder, covering his face with his hand when he caught sight of Blaise stalking to the Gryffindor table. Harry was watching the boy approach, a familiar scowl on his face. Well shit.
“What the Hell is your problem, Potter? I used to think you were a decent bloke. But what you're doing to Malfoy is fucking ridiculous, not to mention damn cruel.”
“What, exactly, is it to you, Zabini?” Harry asked in a low, warning tone.
“Oh, like you suddenly care?”
And there it was. Draco watched warily as Harry rose, a curtain of power rising with him. If Blaise noticed, he gave no sign, glaring at Harry with his hands on his hips. But Granger was on her feet, as was the Weasel and Thomas. Ron went to grab Harry's sleeve and then thought better of it when a spark of energy cracked where he was reaching.
“Harry, I think you're overreacting a bit here.” Ron tried to get between Blaise and Harry. But the Slytherin seemed to have a death wish, pushing the boy aside so he could get into Harry's face.
“You're being an absolute ass, Potter.”
“What's it to you?”
“He's my friend!”
“And you better fucking keep it at just that, Zabini.” Harry was growling, and Draco figured it was time he intervened before said friend was a pile of ash on the ground.
Draco stalked over to the table, grabbing Blaise's arm and pushing the boy behind him before Harry could think to throttle him. “If you two are done embarrassing yourselves, I have better things to do this Saturday.”
Draco did not meet Harry's eyes, instead turning to go. Hermione was blocking his way, her expression unreadable.
“Malfoy would you mind staying for a bit? Just until Harry calms down?”
Draco bit his tongue to keep from swearing. Fucking Potter always got his damn way. “I suggest he be quick about it.” Blaise was still glaring at Harry, so Draco gently pushed the boy backwards. “Go sit down. Or leave. I don't care, just stop fighting my battles.”
Blaise gave a smug smirk. “Told you it would work.”
Draco rolled his eyes, wondering how he had gotten such an idiot friend. No wonder the boy was single.
“Malfoy...”
“Do not talk to me, Potter. You lost that privilege when you ignored me for two weeks straight. Now sit your ass down, eat your breakfast, and let me leave.” Draco sat across from Harry, making a point to stare at the table and not the boy.
Ron, unfortunately, felt the need to try to talk to him. “So Malfoy... How are you handling your father's death?”
“Ron!” Hermione looked aghast. “You seriously need to work on your small talk.”
Ron shrugged. “I thought I was.”
“No, there is no way you thought anything just then!”
Draco gave a long suffering sigh, placing his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. Bloody Gryffindors. He started, rearing back at Harry's hand, inches from his face. “Stop that.”
Draco turned his head, but Harry persisted, fingers on his jaw until Draco finally met his stare. It was as painful as he had expected. Connecting with Harry's gaze brought tears to his eyes.
“Fuck... leave me alone.” Draco closed his eyes, sitting back so Harry couldn't grab him again. He needed to get out of there before he did something stupid.”Hey—Stop it!” Draco tried to turn from the hands again, to no avail. “Potter, so help me—”
Eyes flashing in anger, Draco froze, staring at Harry whose breath he could suddenly feel. Harry, who was crouched on the table. On top of the table.
Draco looked around, trying to see if he was imagining Harry very clearly on the table leaning over him. Hermione was looking displeased, and Ron, well, Ron had stopped asking stupid questions, which was about the best Draco could expect from the annoying git. Everyone in the damn hall was looking at them though, and Draco was tired of being a spectacle.
“Potter, were you raised in a barn? Get off the bloody table.”
Harry shook his head, wrapping fingers in Draco's hair. “I didn't realize... I'm sorry. I thought I was helping.”
“Sorry?” Draco swallowed, trying very hard to stop his eyes from their persistent sting. “I just lost my parents, my only home, and got a damn huge target on my back, and—and you just up and disappeared, acting like I had j-just cursed you or s-something after saying how I'm yours and all. You suck, Potter. I mean really, fucking suck.”
“I thought I was protecting you,” Harry whispered. “Th-there's something wrong with me, and I didn't want to hurt you.”
So help him, he refused to cry in front of all these people. Draco grabbed at Harry's very warm hands, finally pulling himself free. “Ignoring me is about as cruel as you can get, Potter. Now Let. Me. Go!”
Once again, Draco found himself blocked from a proper escape. Remus was behind him, his hands automatically closing on Draco's shoulders. “Perhaps this conversation would be better suited outside. Harry?”
Harry did not seem pleased to be interrupted, but eventually he agreed and jumped from the table. He tried to grab Draco's arm, but Draco was having none of it, placing Remus between them.
“I have nothing to say,” Draco snapped once they were in the hallway and free of prying eyes. “I just want to go back to bed and sleep.”
“Draco, please, will you just listen to me?”
“No! Two whole weeks—Were you even going to talk to me today, or was that because of Blaise? Do you even give a fuck at all?”
“You don't understand!”
“How can I when you've been avoiding me!”
“Enough.” Remus held his hands up. “Harry, I warned you about ignoring these feelings. Even if you're strong enough to endure the pain, you can't expect Draco to be.”
Harry bit his lip, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets. “I didn't want to hurt him.”
Draco glared at the ridiculously stupid answer. “Seriously Potter, how the hell are you going to hurt me?” He watched Harry flinch, as if the question was too much to handle.
“There's something crazy in me, Draco. Something messed up, and, and it doesn't seem to know that pain is bad. I don't... I don't want to hurt you.”
To Draco's great annoyance, he was starting to understand why Harry had been avoiding him. “God, you are the biggest moron sometimes. Why didn't you just say something to me?”
Harry crouched on the ground, hands covering his face. “Gah, because being around you makes me crazy! The things I want to do, Draco, are... are—I need to get out of here,” Harry said abruptly, standing upright and taking a step away. “I'll, uh, owl you or something.”
“Harry Potter, you will stay here and talk to me like a fucking man or I am going to tear you apart,” Draco growled.
Harry froze but refused to turn back. “Malfoy, that is really not helping this.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck? Get. Back. Here. Now.” And Harry did, seemingly against his own accord, feet taking hesitant steps back to stop in front of Draco.
Draco studied Harry, from his tanned hands currently clutched tight in fists, to his wide shoulders that seemed to be holding up the world, to the bowed head with thick waves blocking his face. Draco's heart clenched, thinking of the older version that had left him. Every day Harry was growing closer to being that strong, loving man. But today, in that moment, he seemed at war with himself, and very afraid.
“Tell me the worst that could happen,” Draco asked, hoping to calm Harry's fears. “Let's say you lose it. What's your biggest fear?”
Harry met his eyes, expression of pure anguish on his face. “I don't want to kill you, Drake.”
Draco closed his eyes at the nickname. He had missed it, had wondered if he would ever hear it again.
“You're not going to kill me, Harry.”
“How do you know? I don't know. How can you know?”
Sighing at the annoying logic, Draco tried to explain. “Because I've seen you... different, I guess is a good way to put it.”
Remus, who had been standing back to let them talk it out, suddenly looked up in interest. “This different Harry wouldn't happen to be older, would it? Maybe a fair bit darker, battle scarred... manic?”
Draco narrowed eyes at the werewolf, wondering what the man knew. “Maybe.”
Remus nodded as if he had known the answer all along. He pushed himself away from the wall, and gave Harry a pointed stare. “Tell him, and stop holding back. He's not afraid of you, nor should he be.” With that, the man walked away to return to what was left of breakfast.
“Afraid?” Draco gave a derisive snort. He looked over at Harry, who had suddenly found his sneakers very interesting. “Well?”
“Er... He seems to think 'embracing the beast' is the only way to stop this crazy feeling,” Harry mumbled, using his hands to accent his words.
“Well, yeah. I'd imagine the werewolf would understand a bit about dealing with a beast inside.” God, Potter was annoying. The boy always made things difficult. “Come on. Lets find a proper place to talk without the gossips running into us.” It would give Draco time to think of how to convince Harry that the idiot wasn't going to hurt him.
“Alright. I know a place.”

The Room of Requirement was a cozy contrast to the chill hallways outside. The crackling fire seemed to put Harry at ease the moment he stepped into the room. Warm Butterbeer waited for them, steaming next to a single couch by the fireplace.
Draco took a look around while Harry sat and sipped at his mug. Harry must sleep there on nights his scar burned too loud for him to ignore. There was a bed in the corner, boardgames stacked on a dusty bureau, and a scattering of toys on the table and floor. Draco picked up a fluffy plush lion off the floor, fiddling with the long mane.
Harry was still ignoring him, staring very intently at his now empty mug. Draco walked up behind him, resting one hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense from the touch.
Harry blinked, confused, as a stuffed animal began to walk its way onto his shoulder. “Look out Potter, the beast is going to get you.” Draco made a mock attack, only to have the lion turn to him. “Oh no, its got me in its sights. I'm a goner. Oh the humanity!”
Harry peeked his head behind the couch as Draco fell to the floor, the little lion sitting on his chest in victory. Harry's laugh stuck in his throat. Hair mussed, eyes alight with mischief; Draco was fucking gorgeous.
“Come on, Potter, cheer up.” Exasperated, Draco got up, throwing the stuffed animal at Harry and grabbing his drink. He sat next to the boy, deliberately ignoring the strangled noise Harry made.
Draco drank in long gulps, willing courage from the buttery concoction.
“Alright. What's changed since that Sunday when things were perfectly fine, to the next day when you started running away from me, Potter? Is it because of my father? Do you feel some bizarre guilt, or just think I'm a mess over it?”
“Uh... well... yeah, actually. The guilt part. Sort of.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. Harry Potter feeling guilty about something; not a damn shock there. “Well, you didn't kill my father, so you are very much absolved of all guilt, Potter.”
“What if... what if I had, though?” Harry asked quietly, gnawing on his lip.
“Then I'd give you a damn big thank you hug for making my summer a hell of a lot more enjoyable.”
“You can't mean that. Not really.”
Draco closed his eyes and counted to five. “Potter, I am extremely grateful that my father is dead. I know it's in poor taste to say, but if I'd had the chance and the power, I would have killed him first.”
Harry was silent, brooding again.
“Why do you care, Potter? Why is this coming between us? Everything was going so damn well!”
“Uh well... Remus said something to me. About you smelling... uh, well...” Harry couldn't seem to finish the thought, his neck turning a bright red.
“I don't smell,” Draco said warningly.
“No, uh, that's not what I mean.”
“Well?” Draco was about to hit the idiot over the head if he didn't speak up.
Harry stood and started pacing. He held his hand up, stopping Draco from saying anything else.
“Okay, alright... Let's say for the sake of argument that I, Harry Potter, killed your father... and Voldemort. Lets just say that.... and that I was terribly powerful and maybe a bit crazy... Alright like, scary crazy... Tearing people to bits, crazy.” Harry stopped pacing, his face clouded in dark thoughts. “You... uh... you wouldn't want anything to do with someone like that. Right?”
Draco sat back on the couch. So the werewolf had figured it out. But telling Harry hadn't seemed to have been a good thing—the boy was clearly distraught. “Potter, what exactly can I say to make you stop caring about this?”
Harry look ready to break. “I don't know.”
“Do you want me to tell you about him? He really wasn't a bad guy.”
Harry looked up at that, staring at Draco warily. “So you... uh, you did meet him?”
Draco smiled darkly at the words, thinking back to his Harry. “Meet seems a bit tame.”
Harry walked back over to the couch, staring down at Draco. “So Remus was right... about his smell being on you?”
Draco shrugged. “I don't know what werewolves smell, Potter. I always showered after.”
“Then you...?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Fucked, Potter. Buggered, screwed, made love, had sex—Pick a word, already.”
Harry glared. “You had sex with him.”
“Yes. Amazingly delicious sex.”
Harry started pacing again, refusing to look at Draco. A moment later, he was back to the couch, very angry. “Why would you do that? You didn't see how he killed Wormtail, what he did to your dad—The guy's a damn monster!”
“No, he's not,” Draco growled out. “And if you suggest it again, I'm going to beat you. He was a damn amazing man, dealing with a lot of fucked up people trying to kill him.”
“Malfoy, he tore a guy in half!”
“Shit Potter, stop judging! Those people deserved to die, my father especially. You would rather defend the fucking Dark Lord's right to live, than accept the fact that you might just be an okay guy. Stop hating yourself!”
Harry snapped his mouth shut, looking away. “I don't hate—“
“Yes you do. You hate that you survived when your parents didn't. And later, when you're him and you've watched everyone you've sworn to protect die, you hate yourself even more. The only difference between the two of you is that he's had time for his power to grow, and even more time to repeatedly fail saving the damn world.” Draco stood, trying to let his anger fade. Harry looked rather pathetic, shoulders hunched, head bowed. Damn, but he was infuriating at times.
Draco grabbed Harry's hand, holding it in both of his. “So, he came back to give you a chance for things to be different. Happy. He wanted me to survive this time around. Wanted the Wizarding World to make it. I can't fault him for any of it.”
Harry stared at his trapped hand. “I hate that he touched you... Hate that you... that you...”
“I fucking loved it.”
Harry growled at the admission, pulling Draco's arms to him. “I hate that.”
“You sure about that, Potter? Sure it doesn't get you fucking hot just thinking about it?” Draco smirked at Harry's wild glare. “He showed me how to enjoy the things you want to do to me. Believe me when I say, I know how to be taken by you.”
“Stop. Talking.” Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder with his free hand, pushing the boy back. Draco's legs hit the couch and his knees collapsed, forcing him to sit.
He let the anticipation tingle through his body, watching Harry lean over him. He was learning to recognize when the beast was looking at him, staring out of Harry's eyes with possessive intent. Draco reached for the collar of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning as Harry watched.
Harry knelt, hands kept carefully on the couch, inches from Draco's thighs. He could feel the heat radiating off of the fair boy, could smell his flesh and sweat. The pale hands had stopped their task, last button free. Harry grabbed the shirt, pulling it off Draco's shoulders and arms.
Draco smirked, head tilted. Harry was panting, fingers twitching as if wanting to touch, but holding himself back. “See something you like, Potter?” He taunted softly.
“Very much.”
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Draco asked, eyebrows raised.
Harry let out a shaky breath, trying very hard to not give in to the red heat curling around his mind. “Don't want to hurt you.”
Draco grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, leaned in and snarled in the boy's ear. “Hurt me.”
Groaning, Harry ran shaking hands up Draco's bare sides. He turned in the hand still clutching his hair, kissing Draco fiercely. Draco's other hand was clawing at his shirt, so Harry pulled away long enough to tear his t-shirt off. Humming in approval, Draco pulled him down, raking short nails across Harry's bare back.
“Fucking couch.” Harry grabbed Draco tightly around his waist and threw him over his shoulder while standing. Draco laughed and kicked off his shoes. He held onto Harry's upper arms for balance as Harry walked them around the uncomfortable couch and to the bed.
The world tipped again, Draco finding himself face up on the cool bedspread. Harry was straddling him, bare flesh glowing orange in the firelight. “Fuck, Harry.”
“Soon,” Harry promised, bending down to kiss Draco's neck.
“Hard,” Draco insisted, grabbing Harry's shoulders and digging his nails in. Harry bit down in response. Draco bucked his hips up, groaning loudly. Harry bit him again, pushing his hips down into Draco's thrust.
Draco's hands skirted down Harry's back, finding the band of his jeans. He slipped fingers underneath, walking them around until he had found the button keeping them on. He scrabbled at the metal clasp, frustration growing each moment it resisted release. “Harry... pants. Now.”
“Demanding.” Harry rolled off, ignoring Draco's cry of disappointment, and undid his fly and kicked off his shoes and pants. He stopped at the band of his boxer briefs, seeing Draco's interested look. The gray eyes were burning as Draco sat up, crawling to the edge of the bed where Harry stood.
“Come here,” Draco ordered, hands reaching for Harry's hips. He pulled Harry in hard, mouth fanning heat over his flat stomach. He breathed deep, memorizing the scent. Draco lapped slowly, than bit down.
Harry slipped fingers into Draco's hair, watching the boy ardently nip at his flesh. He swallowed as hands found the band of his underwear. “Draco...”
“Hmm?” Draco rubbed his face against Harry's shorts, enjoying the sound the boy made in response. He kissed Harry's bulge with an open mouth, tongue laving against the fabric.
Harry tightened his hold on Draco's head, grinding his aching length up against the very eager mouth. “Take off your fucking pants.”
Draco shuddered at the harshly spoken command. When Harry's hands released him, Draco fell back on the bed, hips raising to push his pants and underwear down. Harry helped, pulling the slacks off and throwing them aside. He grabbed Draco's ankle, pulling one sock off and then the other.
Harry's eyes raking over him, Draco felt himself arch unbidden. Everything felt so hot all of a sudden, so desperately hot. He watched Harry take his underwear off and kneel on the bed. Draco clawed at the mattress, gripping hard as Harry crawled up his body.
Harry firmly grabbed Draco's jaw and forced him to meet his eyes. “Alright, Drake?”
“Yes love, yes... Just a little overwhelmed.” Draco whimpered, head lolling back onto the bed. Harry pulled at one of his nipples, squeezing hard. Suddenly strong hands were on his ass and Harry's weight was pressing him down into the bed, delicious skin touching skin. “Harry... please.”
Harry pressed his mouth to Draco's ear while pulling the boy's knees up, thighs flush around his hips. “What do you need?” His fingers found the base of Draco's spine and followed down, sliding around his entrance. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” Draco said with a whine, trying to push into Harry's hand. “Do you... know how?”
Harry used a lubrication charm, gently probing the soft flesh around Draco's entrance. “Yeah, I practiced on myself, just to make sure I wouldn't hurt you.”
“Oh fuck,” Draco gaped, mind reeling at the images of Harry fingering himself. “Did you like it?”
Harry bit Draco's lip, smirking. “Can't complain.”
“Fuck.” Draco leaned up, kissing Harry passionately. He could feel Harry's finger growing bolder, pushing up against his hole. Draco wiggled his hips until the digit sunk in. “More, Harry.”
Harry groaned, sliding down Draco's body until his head rested on the boy's heaving chest. He kissed at the flesh there, nipping and licking as he pushed two fingers into the eager blond. He looked up, full attention on Draco's face as the boy cried out in pleasure.
“Draco, you are so hot inside... God.” Harry could feel the muscles tighten around his fingers. He began moving his digits in and out slowly, loosening the clenched flesh. He could feel Draco's cock, hard against his abdomen, rubbing with the friction of their sweaty movements.
“Oh god, Harry, fuck me now... please... I can't wait any longer.” Draco was thrashing on the bed, hands tangled in the sheets, feet digging in to the mattress for leverage so he could push into the fingers.
“A little more, Drake.” Harry added a third finger, his eyes closing when Draco's channel pushed back. “Relax... you're fucking tight.” It was difficult to focus, difficult to remember why he wasn't flipping Draco and pounding into the desperate boy.
“Now... damn it.” Draco grabbed at Harry's shoulder's, holding tight and wriggling down the boy. He hooked a leg around the brunette's hips, adjusting until he could feel Harry's hardness burning against the inside of his thigh. “Fuck me. And don't you dare hold back.”
Harry groaned, low and throaty. He slid his hands over Draco's smooth cheeks, pulling them apart, thumbs digging in. He rubbed his erection over the still very tight opening, feeling Draco shudder at the contact. Guiding his cock to the right spot with his hand, Harry pushed until the flesh began to yield around him.
“Don't stop,” Draco whispered, hips rocking, pushing against Harry's hardness. He could feel the tip pressing in, slowly stretching his opening wide. “Yes... fuck yes.”
Harry could barely breath, the impossible tightness and heat of Draco's channel stealing his senses away. He gripped the blond's hips, trying with all his might to keep from thrusting and hurting the boy. But Draco was insistent, using his leg to push himself down on Harry, trying to impale himself faster. Harry could feel his control slipping, the beast rising up inside him answering Draco's plea.
Harry surged forward and sunk deep into Draco's body, pulling a shout from the boy's gasping lips.
“Uhnnn... again.” It was barely a whisper, but Harry heard. He looked around dimly, finding a pillow and lifting Draco long enough to shove it under his narrow hips. Harry wrapped his arm around one of the long pale legs, running his hand up the thigh and gripping hard.
“Oh, hell yes!” Draco cried as Harry began to fuck him, thrusting slowly in and out of his body. The boy was growling into his neck, hands holding Draco down with bruising force. Draco could feel every inch of Harry moving through his slick channel, achingly filling him.
“Do you like it, Drake?” Harry asked, biting into the boy's shoulder.
“Y-Yes! ...Oh Harry... harder.”
“God, you keep begging.” Harry gave a particularly brutal thrust, only to have Draco cry for more. “Fucking hell.” He pulled out, not giving Draco time to protest, and dragged the blond down the bed.
“Turn,” Harry demanded heatedly, helping Draco stand on shaky legs. Draco complied readily, bending himself over the bed without Harry even asking. Harry grabbed the boy's hips, pushing him forward and down until Draco was kneeling on the mattress.
“Harry... please.”
“You can wait five bloody seconds, Malfoy. Spread your fucking legs and shut up.” Harry pulled the boy back, quickly finding his hot little hole and pushing in.
“Oh fuck,” Harry groaned, once again seated in Draco's tight heat. Draco was still babbling something about 'more' and 'harder,' so Harry began pumping into him, running hands over the pale sweaty limbs, and pulling at Draco's silky hair.
Draco could feel the pressure building, but resisted, not willing to have the moment end. Harry was so big inside him, fitting perfectly, hitting that spot inside that made his sight dim over and over again. God, he'd missed this.
Draco bent forward further, his arms unable to hold himself as well as the force of Harry's savage thrusts. He buried his head in the sheets, reaching above his head while spreading his knees wider.
“Tell me you like it, Drake... Tell me how hard you are right now.”
“Oh god, Harry... I think I'm going to die, I'm that hard.” Draco could feel Harry swelling, his thrusts slowing and reaching deeper. “Don't stop until I'm yours, Potter. Fucking claim me so hard I can't ever question it again.”
Harry pulled Draco's hair until the boy was arched back and sobbing in need. “You are so fucking mine, Draco. I didn't even have to touch you. Every time I bury myself in you, your body tells me you belong to me.”
“Yours.” Draco's entire body was aching, muscles tense in ecstasy.
Harry ran a hand down his lithe body, down to Draco's leaking erection. He wrapped strong fingers around the hard length, letting the boy move in his grip. “God, but you need it like this, don't you? Brutal... and dominated... On your knees.”
“Fuck Harry... I'm so close.”
Harry's eyes fluttered shut, Draco's body tightening painfully around him. “Hell.” He renewed his thrusts, pulling desperate sobs from Draco's trembling form. Leaning down to Draco's neck, he bit hard, drawing blood and a long, intoxicating moan that didn't stop until Draco's hot cum spilled all over his hand.
Harry shuddered, Draco's tightness unbearable. He forced the boy's rocking hips still, burying himself as far as he could go, pushing impossibly forward into the suffocation heat.
“Yes... yes... fill me.”
“F-Fuck, Draco.”
“Come on, Harry... Make me yours.”
Harry came with a strangled cry, filling Draco's tight body with his seed. Draco cried out with him, pushing back, channel spasming as if to pull every drop into him. Harry fell forward, crushing Draco beneath him as they gasped for breath.
“Fuck... oh fuck, Drake.”
Draco groaned, feeling Harry move. “No, don't pull out. You feel so good.”
The whimpered words made Harry want to take Draco again, drive him hard into the bed, or the bureau, or the wall. But he was exhausted, as was the boy still shaking beneath him.
Harry kissed Draco's shoulder gently, licking at the drying blood and bruise quickly blossoming on his perfect flesh. Draco was pushing back into him, rocking his hips slowly, clenching around Harry's softening cock. “Shit, Draco... You're kidding me, right?”
“Harry... I-I need you... I love you.”
“Holy Hell.” As tired as Harry felt, his body was still responding to Draco's desire. Draco gave a delighted moan when Harry hardened, filling the boy again.
“Draco, I think I very much love you as well... But I'm tired.” But Draco pushed back again, grinding against Harry's dick until Harry shoved the boy down. Draco was not deterred, rocking back again, letting Harry guide his pale hips up and down the renewed flesh. Harry pulled away with a groan, climbing off the boy before Draco could convince him otherwise.
Draco rolled over, licking his swollen lips and staring at Harry. Harry couldn't pull his eyes away, staring at the sweat soaked boy now covered in pink bites and blue bruises. Cum had found its way to Draco's stomach, not to mention was leaking out of his very raw looking hole.
“My god, Draco... you are so gorgeous. So fucking unbelievable.”
Draco gave a weak smile and spread his legs open wide, pulling his knees up. Harry felt fire shoot through his body, his vision fading for a moment. When his focus regained, Harry found himself nuzzling Draco's spread thighs, tongue caressing and tasting the abused flesh dripping with his seed. Draco was only half hard when Harry first licked up the side of his cock, but under Harry's kisses and licks it quickly stiffened in full interest. He could hear Draco moaning, head thrashing on the mattress in delight.
God, but he wanted Draco again.
Rising to his knees, Harry pulled Draco's ass up onto his thighs and sunk into the willing body. Draco made a mewling sound, unable to gain any purchase with his hips above his shoulders. Harry began to pound into the boy, fucking him hard, pushing him back until Draco's neck and shoulders were trapped against the headboard, his body bent, legs pushed up high and caught on Harry's shoulders.
“Fuck, Draco, you are very good at this,” Harry growled, remembering fleetingly why that was. He changed the direction of his thrusts, rewarded with Draco's cries when he found the boy's prostate. He would make the boy forget about Harry's other version, erase any touch the man had bestowed on the beautiful boy. Draco was his, and only his.
“Harry...” Draco was flushed, nearly lost in the sheets, with his head at an awkward angle against the headboard. Taking pity, Harry stopped, pulling the boy up. Draco quickly turned, grabbing the sturdy headboard and getting on his knees. Harry pulled the boy's hips to his, and then buried himself into the eager flesh again.
“Yes,” Draco sighed, head turning to look at Harry's over his shoulder. “Kiss me,” he demanded. Harry did with vigor, slowly building his rhythm as Draco melted into his embrace.
“Oh, give it to me, Harry. Hard... I like it hard... Don't worry about me... I can take it.”
Harry closed his eyes, surging forward. Draco was very good at this.
“Fuck... fuck... again,” Draco murmured, lost in the intensity of Harry's thrusts. Harry wrenched at his flesh, fingers biting wherever they touched, teeth sinking in again and again over Draco's neck and shoulder. Harry shifted slightly and Draco saw stars, coming with a surprised shout from the pressure on his prostate.
Harry wasn't done, thrusting into Draco's quivering body and pulling deep, desperate moans from the aching boy. “Oh Hell... Harry... so full... too much.”
Harry snarled, grabbing the headboard on both sides of Draco and using it as leverage to soundly pound into the boy. “I know you can take it,” Harry rasped out, biting the wound he had left on Draco's shoulder, making the boy sob for mercy. “Come on, Draco... take it... fuck... mine!” He came with a shudder, slamming Draco into the headboard with a cry.

Harry awoke, hours later, in a tangle on the bed. Draco took longer, not until Harry was dressed and gently washing the boy's face with a cold cloth.
“I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean too...” Harry trailed off, unable to put into words what he had done to the boy, and how a part of him was not sorry and wanted to do it again.
Draco just blinked up blearily, sighing as the cloth touched his face. “It was good, Harry. Fucking amazing.”
“But I hurt you,” Harry reminded, licking his lips as Draco moved to sit up.
“Mmmm... I adored it.” Draco grabbed Harry's face, kissing him slowly. “You'll do it again, right? Promise?”
Harry nodded silently, unable to say no to the boy.
“I'm hungry. What time is it?” Draco looked around the room but there was no clock.
Harry glanced at his watch, furrowing his brow. “Uh... we might be able to catch a very late lunch. After I patch you up first.”
Draco nodded, stretching his arms above his head. He was sore, but in a thoroughly shagged way. He caught Harry watching him, and he smiled back. “Come on then, hurry up. I think I could eat a hippogriff.”
Harry pulled the blond to him, burying his face into his hair. He ran light fingers over Draco's bruises, using a healing spell to fade them away. Draco was whimpering once Harry let him go, his gray eyes alight with lust.
“Come on, get dressed.” Harry handed Draco the pile of socks, pants and underwear, and got up to find the boy's shirt. It took a moment for Draco to get moving again, but eventually he was shimmying into his clothes and throwing his shoes on.
“How's my hair?” Draco asked, no mirror in sight.
Harry combed fingers through the silky strands, flattening any strays. “Perfect, as always. How about me?”
“Mess, of course.” Draco smirked. “Although... you forgot your glasses.”
Harry shook his head. “I decided it wasn't worth keeping up appearances over. Tossed them.”
Draco stepped close, looking Harry over heatedly. “I'm very glad to hear that. You're fucking hotter than hell, and I enjoy seeing it.”
Harry took a steadying breath, reminding himself that Draco needed fuel if the boy was going to endure a proper fuck. No matter how much the blond begged for it now. He grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him to the door, leading to the Great Hall and whatever was left of lunch.

Hermione Granger, 27 and scarred, waited for Harry to finish the slow, torturous execution of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione was beyond powerful, which was to be expected as one of the few to survive the destruction of the Wizarding World. She discovered early on that power was the only way to survive a friendship with the beast Harry Potter had become.
She had devised the spell and the modifications to the time turner, Harry's power the fuel to move them through so many blood soaked years. Hermione had also chosen the time, fourth year, before Cedric died. Before June, when Draco Malfoy's lifeless body would be discovered.
They had all assumed it had been Voldemort, some sort of sacrifice to the Dark Lord. But the interview in the Daily Prophet revealed elsewise. Lucius Malfoy practiced magic on his disappointing son, hexes and curses so strong that the young boy could barely hold out. And in Hermione's time, before his fifth year of school, the boy had died.
Killing Lucius hadn't been in the plan, but having read the paper, Hermione was not surprised to find Harry had done just that. She was also not surprised to find him here, now killing the final relative that would be crazy and powerful enough to try to harm Draco.
Harry had become very good at killing that summer before fifth year. He was maddened at the news of Draco's death. Insane. Frenzied. The beast sleeping inside of him had woken up with the death of his unclaimed chosen and it would not be silenced.
Harry had killed the Dursley's, all of them, in a fit of raw magic so strong that the house had collapsed in on itself. And he hadn't stopped since, stalking Death Eaters and picking them off, one by one until Harry had finally destroyed Voldemort in his late teens.
After that, well, Harry had to face that he had no place in the world. What he was could not continue.
Hermione had found him eventually. Harry had haunted the Chamber of Secrets deep in the depths of the broken Hogwarts in his animagus form. Once she had gotten him to talk, she had realized there wasn't much time. There had been very little left of Harry.
He had found ways to cope, had built up elaborate fantasies and stories to work his way around the destruction he had seen, the horrors he had committed. But there was no relief for the man. All Hermione could distinguish for certain by Harry's tangled mind was that Draco Malfoy was the key.
He had spoke of Draco, spoke to Draco as if he had been there only moments before. The man had imagined Draco's death so many different times, all moments before Harry had succeeded in the death of another monster. He used the memory of Draco as fuel for every life he took, and thought, each time, he had failed the boy.
In Harry's twisted mind he had the option to save Draco, each time just missing and watching the boy die before his eyes. Instead of the cold reality of Harry never suspecting the danger, and Draco dying alone.
Hermione had great misgivings letting Harry wander the halls of Hogwarts again now that children actually occupied the castle. But he was in control, for the most part. Ever since she had told him the plan, her friend had pulled his remaining scraps of sanity together. He was desperate to see the Malfoy boy alive.
The screams had stopped. Hermione glanced out the window of the abandoned mansion Bellatrix had holed herself away in, catching the position of the moon. Not much longer.
At Harry's bloody approach, Hermione held her arm out, welcoming him. He came to her as if he were a child, chin resting atop her head. He was stronger today, always so when death was calling.
Hermione would take the memories for him. She had arranged the spell to exclude Harry's mind from its protection. Harry would forget, while Hermione's younger self would see two worlds develop. One a place of destruction and murder, the other... well.
Hopefully they had done enough.
Hermione had left a diary with her younger self, one that would activate once the first contradicting memory was written in. She would need to understand what was happening. She would need to understand that Draco Malfoy's life had to be protected at all costs.
Hermione prayed it would work, prayed Malfoy wouldn't come to some ungodly end after they left. It didn't matter how or at whose hand; Draco Malfoy's death would be Harry's undoing in any time line.
“It's time,” she whispered, pulling the time turner from her robes.
Harry opened green, anguished eyes. “I miss him.”
Hopefully, Harry would be a better person this time. Hopefully he could be someone that Draco could love.
- 5
- 6
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Bending Time

Chapter Six