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Magnetism	By : Queenie_Mab Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4595 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from Harry Potter, created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Warner Bros. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended

Chapter List
- 5
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"No, I won't go through with it," Draco said, squashing his cigarette in the tray beside his laptop with extra relish.

"Draco," said Blaise Zabini. "The Greengrasses were neutral during the war. It would be a way for you to re-enter wizarding society with your head held high, not to mention your vaults doubled."

Draco scowled and looked up at his old friend who was dressed sharply in dark pinstriped robes. "Don't you have some other important business to attend to, now that you're Minister for Magic? Don't waste your time with me; I won't budge." He opened his laptop, deliberately ignoring his friend and returned to the screen. "I have work to do, even if you don't," he said, voice sharp and dismissive.

"At least think about it," Blaise pleaded. "Your mother is very concerned for your well-being and so am I. You're the only person I can truly call friend, and you mean the world to me. I just want you to be happy." Blaise picked up his briefcase and headed for the lounge's fireplace.

"Tell this Astoria to grow a cock and some balls and then come talk to me again," Draco called after him, no longer caring about the repercussions of coming out to his friend.

Blaise turned around slowly, looking around Draco's lounge as if he was seeing it for the first time, with all of its male nudes. "You can't be serious," he said, voice cracking. "Draco, you're going to break your mother's heart. You're her only child."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Draco spat. "I'm done with the wizarding world, done with wearing masks for people. I live in the Muggle world now and I can be myself here. So don't bother me with this rejoining wizarding society bullshit any longer."

"Right," said Blaise, looking fit to kill. "We'll talk about this later. You've gotta work through it. I care about what happens to you. It's not—well, it's not because of what happened to you, is it?"

"No!" Draco shouted. "Scram and don't bother me about the past! Leave it buried if you care about me so much!" Draco pulled his second-to-last cigarette out of his pack and wandlessly lit it with a nonverbal spell.

"I have a meeting to make, but I will be back. You can't drop a dungbomb on a mate and expect to just get away with it without some explanation." Blaise took some Floo powder from a shell on the mantle and Flooed away.

Moments later the Floo activated again and Draco slapped himself in the head with his hand. "What did you forget? Going to threaten me now?"

Harry stepped out of the fireplace, set his trunk down and dusted himself off. "No, I'm not going to threaten you, but you have some explaining to do," he said calmly.

"Potter!" Draco said, voice dripping venom. "You said you'd give me the day to myself. I've been trying to write, but for all these interruptions."

"Why? Who was just here?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"That's none of your damned business, Potter. Now bugger off so I can get to work on the novels you so love to read."

Harry strode into the dining room and pulled out the chair to Draco's right, so he was facing the window. He sat down.

Draco took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke in Harry's face. "I thought I told you to get out of here."

"We need to talk," Harry said seriously, waving the smoke away.

Draco scoffed. "If this is about last night, it didn't happen as far as I'm concerned, and—"

"This has nothing to do with last night," Harry said sharply.

Draco slammed his laptop shut and put out his cigarette. He poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey and downed half of it in one go. "I can't talk to you sober."

"Tell me about Francis McDougall, the Muggle," Harry said, calmly

Draco blanched and finished his drink. "What Muggle?" he asked sarcastically. "It's a pen-name, Potter. I thought you might have figured that out." He knew he was in deep shit. His past had finally caught up to him, and in the form of Harry bloody Potter no less. Draco reached for his last cigarette, trying hard to control the shaking of his hands.

Harry pulled the shrunken police report out of his pocket and poked it with his wand. "Engorgio." The paper returned to its normal size and Harry handed it to Draco, eyes firmly making contact with Draco's. "Would you care to explain this?" said Harry bitterly. He handed the parchment to Draco.

Draco read through the police report and handed it back to Harry. "And this has to do with me, how?" he asked, putting on a aloof air, even though he was shaken to his core. He didn't want to relive the horror.

"Don't fuck around with me, Malfoy. Did you or did you not have anything to do with this Muggle's murder?" Harry asked sternly, emerald eyes blazing.

Draco felt the familiar sensation of a silent Legilimens, and closed Harry out as quickly as he could, but too late. Harry saw him bring the table leg down on the Muggle man's head. "Look, Potter, I can explain—"

"There's nothing to explain," Harry said coldly. "I never thought you were capable of murder."

Draco scowled. "Then you underestimate the Dark Lord and his hold over people," said Draco, shivering from the brief glimpse he had accidentally let Potter see.

Harry stood up and began to pace the dining room, nervously rubbing his hands together. Draco watched him, finishing his fag and putting it out. He felt like he had bugs crawling under his skin, he was so nervous, but he wasn't going to let Potter see that.

"How could you possibly explain a murder to me and expect me to not turn you in?" Harry asked, stumbling over his words.

"He was raping me," Draco said, voice sharp and clear. His body shook as he remembered the feel of the clammy hands on his torso and the crack of the man's skull as he brought the table leg down upon it.

Harry stopped moving and stared at Draco. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes!" Draco shouted. "Why would I make something like that up? How much more can you get off on humiliating me?"

Draco watched Harry stare at his feet and listened as he quietly spoke. "I don't get off on it. I don't even mean to humiliate you. I just want to clear your name and if that is the true story, I think we'll be able to."

"Oh, no! No you don't, Potter. I'm not going back to the wizarding world. I don't want the fact that I was almost raped by a Muggle plastered all over the Prophet. I just want to live a quiet life and I want you to go away and leave me to it." Draco breathed heavily, feeling the panic rise up in him and wishing to God that Potter would leave him alone so he could have his episode in peace.

"Draco? Are you all right?" Harry asked.

Draco felt his breath leaving him, he gasped for air, unable to get enough and was soon seeing sparkles all about him as his vision darkened and went black.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself staring into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter, looming over his face. He was in bed. "What happened?" he choked, feeling his head splitting with pain, throbbing behind his eyeballs.

"You passed out," Potter said, still looking down at him. If Draco didn't know better he'd say that Potter was about ready to kiss him. He scooted himself up into a sitting position, forcing Potter to move back. "Can I see it?" Potter asked.

"What?" said Draco. "Can you see what?" He tried to remain flippant, but he felt his chest tightening up again. "Potter, get me my whiskey. The one on the sideboard. It has the strongest tranquiliser."

Potter looked at him, concerned, and then got up to fetch the Firewhiskey. Draco checked his pyjama bottoms to make sure he hadn't wet them and, finding them dry, crawled beneath the covers to warm up.

Potter came back in with the bottle and handed it to Draco. Draco took a long swig directly from the bottle and savoured the burn as it went down his throat. He felt himself beginning to calm. "Thanks, Potter."

"Can I have a drink from that?" Harry asked nervously. Draco figured he must be nervous to be in the same room as a killer. Potter hadn't even killed the Dark Lord, he was only there for the Dark Lord to kill himself upon for a second time. There was no way Potter would understand what it was like to have blood on your hands, on your body. No way he would see Draco as anything other than a killer now.

Draco watched as Potter drank and visibly relaxed. He reached out and grabbed the bottle. It was strong stuff and not to be wasted. Potter toed off his shoes and climbed over Draco to sit beside him in the bed, beneath the covers. Draco suddenly felt under-dressed and slightly nervous again, being next to the man he'd hated for so long and who had given him the best shag of his life. He took another long swig from the bottle, trying to shake the images of how sexy Potter looked when he came. His memories flooded back.

"Can I see it?" Harry repeated, and Draco looked up at him, slightly spinning.

"What is it you want to see? What do you want from me?" Draco asked, hoping that Harry would drop the subject of the near-rape and subsequent murder. Maybe if Draco seduced him, he would forget all about it. Draco dropped the sheet that he had tucked beneath his armpits, and let Harry have full view of his bare torso.

"I want to see—er—what happened to you," Harry said, glancing down at Draco's hardening nipples.

"I don't want you to see," Draco said, leaning in closer to Harry. "I don't want anybody to see," he whispered, looking into Harry's eyes.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

Draco shook himself, wondering what exactly it was that he was doing. Oh yes, he remembered: seducing Potter. He ran his hand down Harry's hip and leg, grabbing his inner thigh through the thick material of his jeans.

Harry groaned. "No," he said, moving Draco's hand away. "You don't want this, this isn't you."

Draco looked at Harry, confused. Yes he did want this. He wanted every bit of Potter, he just didn't want to admit it. The alcohol made it so much easier to express himself and helped him to drop the masks he wore.

"Yes, this is me," Draco whispered, putting his hand back and tracking it up Harry's thigh to his groin. "This is the real me, I promise."

Harry pressed himself against Draco's palm and Draco smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

"No, Draco. It's not right. I can't do this until I'm sure you're telling the truth."

Draco felt lost in Harry's eyes and the swirling effects of the tranquiliser. He set the bottle he'd been holding with his left hand down on the bedside table and got up on his knees, facing Harry. He climbed on to Harry's lap and held onto his arms with his hands. "If I let you see, will you still let me fuck you?" Draco asked, scared of being rejected.

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding. "I want you to, but I want proof first that you only killed in self-defence."

Draco took a big breath and let it out with a shudder. "I've opened my mind and pushed the memory to the front. I'm thinking about it right now. Go ahead and Legilimise me."

He felt the probing tendrils of Harry's mind, worming their way into his thoughts. He let them come.

He struggled beneath the heavy older man, reaching for his wand which lay across the floor as the man lifted his robes and tugged at his trousers. "Get off me!" he roared. "Help!" Nobody came, though he knew they were watching.

The man's breath was hot and putrid in his face, burning his eyes with the acidic smell of cheap Muggle beer. "Come on, pretty boy. You came over just for this, so stop your struggling and let me fuck your pretty white arse," the man said with a low growl.

"No, no, stop," Draco cried out, tears streaming down his face. "Accio," he called helplessly, still reaching for his wand, even as the man tugged up on his shirt and began teasing his nipples. Desperate, Draco reached for whatever he could, arms flailing and finally coming to rest on the leg of a coffee table. "Diffindo," he screamed at the table and the leg came off. He swung it once across the man's head, heard his skull crack and watched as blood and brain begin to ooze out from a large hole in the man's balding head.

Draco struggled beneath the heavy lifeless body and finally freed himself, crying and sore. He was a disgrace, but he'd achieved his objective and killed the Muggle.

Draco sat back on Harry's thighs gasping, heart hammering in his chest at having just relived one of the most terrifying experiences of his life.

"Wait," Harry said, eyes growing dark, even as Draco continued to hiccough and tears spilled down his face. "You went to his house in order to kill him, it was an accident that he almost raped you." Harry pushed Draco off him disgustedly.

"I knew it," Draco cried. "I knew you would be like this. I was supposed to kill him, yes. If I didn't, they were going to kill my mother. They were watching, just outside, just waiting for me to screw up and they laughed their arses off when the Muggle man overpowered me. They just sat there and let it happen. Harry, I had no choice."

Harry looked up at the sound of his name. "Why did you take his name for your pen-name?" Harry asked, a confused expression gracing his face.

Draco bowed his head and wiped the tears off his face with his hand. "I wanted to remember that I had killed someone. Someone with a name. Even though he was a rapist Muggle, I killed him and it only seemed fitting that I should be forever burdened with the gravity of what I did. So I chose his name, it helps remind me of the person I never want to be again. That's why I left the wizarding world. I needed to get rid of all reminders of the war and just live with my guilt, quietly as a Muggle."

"I'm still going to have to report the murder to the Minister for Magic, Draco," Harry said, lifting Draco's pointed chin with his hand.

Draco slowly nodded and reached for the bottle once more, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm. "You don't need any more of that stuff," Harry said. "If you don't stop drinking, you'll just end up shagging me again and then being disgusted with yourself for having done it."

Draco shook his head ever so slightly. "I'm not disgusted. I was embarrassed," he admitted. "How the hell could you and me ever hook up? It just seems so, I dunno—we're just so opposite. You're light and I'm dark; you're good and I'm bad; you're the saviour and I'm a murderer. It could never work out. But that doesn't mean I don't want you."

"That doesn't mean I don't want you either," Harry said, running his hand down Draco's bare torso.

"You're going to turn me in for murder," scoffed Draco. "You don't want me, my body, maybe, but never me." Draco leaned into Harry's touch and bent forward to capture his lips.

The kiss was light at first and Draco felt exhilarated at the touch of Harry's lips, but Harry broke it off short.

"Don't tease me," Harry said. "You know how much I want you. If you're just going to get me worked up and then freak out about it, I don't want to play."

Draco drew back and looked Harry in the eye. "You could still get worked up over me, even though you know that I'm a murderer?" he asked, hopeful. Now that the truth about his past had been shared between them, Draco felt closer to Harry, inexplicably so. He wanted Harry's body, wanted to fuck. Maybe it was the drugged alcohol that was making him feel so comfortable, but Draco didn't care. He was so tolerant of the stuff; it just took away his inhibitions.

Harry sat back against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling, while Draco sat on his feet, facing him nervously.

"Yeah," Harry finally said, bringing his face down so he was looking at Draco. "Yeah, even if you did kill someone in the past, I still want you. I'm falling for you, Draco, even with your bad mood swings and mixed signals. I can't explain why, but you've always drawn my attention."

Draco was painfully hard and growing harder as he looked at the messy black hair and bright green eyes of Harry. He sat forward and took Harry's glasses off and set them on the bedside table. He leaned over to the table and took the lube out of the drawer and set it on top, then returned to Harry.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry, a wry smile on his lips.

Draco stretched out beside him and pushed himself into Harry's hip, leaning forward, nibbling on Harry's earlobe. "I want you," he breathed. "I want to be inside you."

Harry groaned beside him and turned over to face him, faces inches apart. "You're not just doing this to try to get me not to turn you in for murder, are you?" he asked, brow creased with worry.

Draco reached up to smooth Harry's wild hair with his hand. He trailed his fingers down the side of Harry's stubbly face, to the neck of his t-shirt, which he toyed with. "No. I knew my past would catch up with me eventually; just be sure to talk with the Minister for Magic about it personally. He already knows what happened."

"What?" Harry asked. He held the hand that was playing with his shirt. "How does Zabini know about this already?"

Draco sighed and reclaimed his hand, running his fingers through his hair. "He was a mate at the time. He took care of me after it happened. If it hadn't been for him, I would have killed myself." Draco turned over to get his pack of smokes off the bedside table. He lit one. "After the war ended, Blaise suggested that I try and live as a Muggle for a while, to get away from the anti-Death Eater movement that was happening. He didn't realise that I'd actually like it and now he's trying to get me to come back."

He picked up the bottle of spiked Firewhiskey and took another shot from it.

"Pass that over here," said Harry. Draco passed him the bottle and Harry took a large drink. "This stuff is certainly relaxing; why do you spike your Firewhiskey with tranquilisers?"

Draco looked over to Harry and took the bottle from him. He didn't want to tell Harry that he had panic attacks and night terrors. "Medicinal reasons," he said and hoped Harry would drop the subject. He took a long drag on his cigarette and a draught from his bottle, then stamped out the fag. He held the bottle next to his silk-clad thigh. "Why are you here, Potter?"

Harry looked at Draco, confused. "Why am I here right now or in general?"

Draco thought about it for a moment. "Both."

"Well, I'm here for the week, because I blackmailed you into letting me stay, and I'm here right now because there's no other place I want to be." He reached over and took Draco's bottle away. He set it on the bedside table on his side and returned to Draco, pushing him back against the headboard and straddling his thighs. He leaned in and took Draco's lips, letting his tongue run along the bottom one.

Draco shuddered as Harry's hands traveled down his naked torso and began to play at the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. He opened his mouth and let Harry's tongue inside, kissing back, trembling with want.

Draco felt amazing as Harry sought out every hot spot in his mouth, massaging his gums with his tongue so they tickled and sent an electrical signal running throughout the nerves in his body. He thrust his hips, erection now tenting his bottoms, seeking some friction.

He pulled Harry's hips forward by the belt loops on his jeans, so their erections could rub together. He groaned at the sensation and broke the kiss, panting. "Potter, I want to fuck you," he said, voice low and dangerous.

He watched Harry pull back and look down at him as he ground his erection into Draco's. Draco sat up and held onto Harry's back, deftly flipping him over, so he was lying between his legs.

He struggled to get Harry's t-shirt off him until Harry finally pulled it over his head and flung it to the ground. Draco kissed at Harry's pert brown nipples, nipping at them gently to the sounds of Harry moaning and the feel of Harry's denim-covered hardness, poking him in the stomach. He reached down and unfastened Harry's jeans, sneaking his hand inside to massage Harry's erection through his boxers.

"Ung, Draco," Harry whimpered. "Harder."

Draco worked him up and down, finally giving in to his urge to see Harry naked. He scooted backwards and pulled Harry's jeans and boxers down to his knees, revealing his purpling erection as it strained upwards.

Draco finished undressing Harry and slipped out of his bottoms. He licked his lips at the sight of Harry's weeping cock and closed his mouth over the top of it, savoring the raw smell and the sharp taste of Harry's pre-come. "Mmm," he moaned around the cock in his mouth, causing Harry to buck his hips into Draco's face.

"Draco, oh—" Harry whimpered, bringing his hand down to run his fingers through Draco's blond, silken locks. Draco loved to have his hair touched. It felt so good, pleasure running through his scalp and down through his body. He pulled off Harry's cock with a 'pop' and summoned the lubricant. He slathered his fingers and began to tease at Harry's opening with his cold, lubed hand, making Harry still beneath him and open his legs wider.

"Do you like that, Potter?" Draco asked, slipping his middle finger inside and gently fucking Harry with it.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, pushing back against Draco's hand as if trying to fill himself even further.

Draco slipped another finger inside and moved them around, searching for Harry's prostate.

"Ahh, right there!" Harry cried. "Fuck; fuck me, Draco. Do it now!"

Draco's aching need throbbed at the desperation in Harry's voice. He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on the duvet. Draco rose up onto his knees and slicked his cock. "You want this, Potter? You want my thick long cock to fill your arse?

"Yes, Draco; please," Harry pleaded. He spread his thighs as far as they would go and showed Draco his stretched hole, winking to be filled.

Draco groaned at the sight of seeing Harry so wanton. The alcohol in his bloodstream fuelled his desire and he wanted Harry more than anything he'd ever wanted before. Harry was such a good submissive. Powerful Harry Potter liked to take it up the arse. The thought chased Draco, and he held onto Harry's raised ankles and pushed inside with one great thrust.

"Ung," Harry cried out, and Draco stilled his movements, breathing hard as he tried not to come from being inside Harry's velvet warmth alone. "I'm ready, Draco," Harry said desperately, and Draco began to move.

Draco felt incredible, buried balls-deep inside Harry. He wondered why he had ever thought this to be a bad idea.

Soon, the sound of slapping flesh as Draco's hips met Harry's, and the smell of sex filled the room. They were both breathing heavily and Harry chanted Draco's name, driving Draco into a frenzy.

Draco felt himself break out in a sheen of sweat and watched as Harry's hole swallowed him, his thick cock reddening with engorgement, disappearing into Harry's body in tight bursts of exertion. Harry's cock wept against his stomach as he stroked it in time with Draco's thrusting. Draco held on to Harry's ankles tightly, as if they were the only thing keeping him upright. He felt like he was melting.

They were one and it was fantastic. Draco looked up at Harry's face, contorted with pleasure, his green eyes wide and focused on Draco. Draco couldn't help but smile at that. He'd never felt so complete before. He let his hips snap forward and back until he felt the familiar pool of pleasure build in his belly and with a few short thrusts, perspiration running down his face, he came with a loud groan.

The sensation of coming was so intense, like two magnets being pulled together by an invisible but strong force. He thought he'd never stop coming as rope after rope shuddered out of his body and into Harry's.

He watched Harry tug on his cock a few more times and then come, in thick white stripes over his belly and nearly hairless chest. His expression held pure pleasure in it as his mouth was wide open and panting and his nostrils flared as he fought for breath.

Draco felt dizzy looking into Harry's crisp green eyes as they bored tunnels into Draco's slate-grey ones. Draco felt like he if he died right now, everything would be perfect. He didn't want to withdraw, but as his cock softened, he did, a thick string of white come clinging to his cock-head. He watched, growing aroused again as his semen spilled out after him between Harry's cheeks and made the hairs on his skin stick together.

Draco couldn't stop himself; he lowered his face to Harry's hole, holding his legs open wide and licked at the rim, spilling with his release. The taste of himself and Harry's unique musk mixed together was intoxicating and Draco delved inside with his tongue, drinking his own come.

"Ahh," Harry called from above. "What are you doing? God! That feels incredible!" Draco chuckled into Harry's arse, knowing the reverberating sensation would further Harry's pleasure. He briefly wondered why pleasuring Potter was so important to him, then chalked it up to the alcohol.

He dropped Harry's legs and rose above him, slithering between his thighs and pressing his chest against Harry's come-coated one, smearing the stickiness between their bodies. The smell of come was strong, and Draco relished it, loving the feel sticky, sweaty sex. His face was inches above Harry's and he stared down into the dark pools of Harry's dilated pupils.

"Well, if nothing else, you're good for a fantastic shag, Potter," he said, as nonchalantly as he could. He was warring within himself as to whether or not he had feelings for Harry. On the one hand, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed pleasing him, but on the other, Harry was blackmailing his way into Draco's life and Draco wanted nothing to do with the wizarding world.

Harry panted beneath him, taking his time trying to control his breathing. Draco could feel the thudding of his heart against his and they beat to the same, fast-paced rhythm.

Looking at Harry's lips, pink and soft and supple, Draco leaned in to take his mouth in a kiss, the sweetness of Harry's mouth mixing with the bitter taste of come. They snogged for what felt like hours, Draco growing more and more aroused with each passing minute.

He was fully erect once more and pressed himself against Harry's hardening organ, grinding against him in a slippery, sticky slide. Draco broke the kiss, revelling in the feel of Harry's hot hands caressing his back. "I want you again, Harry," he said, knowing that it was the complete truth and that try as he might, he couldn't blame it on the alcohol.

Harry cracked a grin. "How do you want me?" he asked coyly.

Draco moaned and gave Harry's cock another healthy grind. "Turn over. I want you on your hands and knees."

Chapter Man
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Magnetism

Chapter Man