Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

An Offering of Dragons	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8786 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Six—Recovery
            “I do think we need to talk about this.” Draco’s voice was as soft and persistent as water dripping onto rock.
            Harry turned around to face him. He sat on one bed in the hostel and Draco sat across from him, leaning forwards so far that he seemed poised to fall off. Harry shook his head a little. “I tried to tell them that we only needed one bed, but they didn’t believe me and gave us two beds anyway. I’m sorry. It’s not something I meant to do.”
            Draco gave him an enormous squint. “What are you talking about?”
            “The, um.” Harry took a moment to scratch the back of his neck and try not to react with frustration when Draco’s eyes went to his shoulder and narrowed. He hadn’t been badly injured. If Draco wanted to talk about that, then Harry thought they’d be done in thirty seconds. “What I thought was bothering you. Two beds.”
            “No,” said Draco, and he sat up and moved across the room to settle in next to Harry. Harry leaned against him, partially because that hid his face in Draco’s shoulder. “I’m talking about your tendency to dash into danger and not even look over your shoulder before you do it.”
            “Right,” Harry said. “I did try to make a promise to do better this time.”
            “This time, and all times.” Draco gripped his arm. “I told you to go with them because I trusted you. Was that trust misplaced?”
            “No,” Harry said. “I did take fewer risks, and I came back alive.” Then he thought about the Swedish Short-Snout plunging its feet into the pool, and winced. He knew he could have been boiled alive or received a much worse scratch.
            The problem was, all those things only mattered after the fact. He understood what Draco was saying, and he agreed that he should be more careful. But it was always hard to remember at the time.
            “But not no risks.” Draco’s voice was very low. “I saw Rask. All she cared about was the dragon. And you—they used you as bait.”
            “With my consent,” Harry said.
            Draco turned his head to the side, until he looked like a dragon himself, like Firewing trying to see if anyone had tasty treats for him. But Harry knew exactly how much trouble he would get into for saying that right now, so he kept quiet.
            “What I want to discuss is the mentality that makes you take risks and agree to things like that,” said Draco. His voice was lower than any dragon’s growl, or at least it felt like it. Harry could swear it vibrated in his bones as they sat there. “Why did you agree? Why not have one of them play bait instead, since they probably knew the village and the dragon better?”
            Harry sighed. He knew the answer, although he didn’t know if it was one that would satisfy Draco. He would have to hope… “Because they asked for my help.”
            Draco jerked back from him like the Short-Snout bouncing against the inside of the net. “And that matters more to you than me asking you to stay out of it?”
            Uh-oh. Harry reached for Draco, but he stood up as if accidentally and paced back and forth outside Harry’s arm length. Harry sighed and folded his arms on his lap and spoke as gently and peacefully as he could. “I didn’t—no, that’s not what I meant. You granted me permission to go, so that’s what I took.”
            “Banking on that permission to keep me from being angry. I see.” Draco folded his arms and stared over Harry’s head. There wasn’t a window there, or Harry would have suspected him of trying to lose himself in the view.
            “I’m new to this, Draco,” Harry said. “Ron and Hermione and the other Aurors are the only ones who know exactly how much danger I put myself in on Auror cases. I didn’t have anyone else I was willing to let that close before, anyone who would see where my heart was and risk their own heart alongside mine. Their emotional quiet alongside my physical safety. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to go that far with.”
            Draco dropped his head down. Then he said, “But you get into that kind of danger outside of Auror cases.”
            Harry drew another breath that made his chest feel tight. He also knew the answer to this one. “That’s because—people ask me for help, and all I can think of is how fortunate I am, and how much I could help.”
            Draco turned around and gave him a baffled glance.
            “I’m so much more fortunate than lots of people in the war were,” Harry said softly. “I lost lots of people I loved, but other people lost more. Or they also lost their homes, and their wands, and their magic, and the use of their hands. Or they can never go into the Ministry without starting to suffer flashbacks. I’m not as wounded. Or I’m actually stronger than they are.” Harry shrugged. He didn’t like thinking like that, because so much of what he had done was in terms of luck rather than strength. “Either way, I can give of my time to help them. To let them get back on their feet or not suffer more.”
            Draco’s face worked for a moment. Then he said, “That’s very noble, but there’s someone else who needs you that you’re not considering.”
            “Who?” Harry asked, unable to think what Draco meant. He had assumed that the whole problem Draco had was Harry considering other people’s needs.
            “Me.” Draco came forwards one step and knelt in front of Harry, clasping his hand and looking into his eyes. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I need you alive for me to love. I need you with me. If you rush off into dangerous situations all the time, then—it doesn’t help me feel that you care about me.”
            That was a perspective Harry hadn’t considered before. He reached out and wound his fingers through Draco’s. “I haven’t had anyone close to me who’s asked for that before,” he whispered.
            “I know. Because people have rarely been close to you.” Draco sat back on his heels and looked up at him through his fringe. “But I really need for you to promise this to me, Harry. To promise me I’m just as important as a Dragon-Keeper who runs up to you out of nowhere and asks for your help. Am I?”
*
            Draco knew he was trembling. It was worst in his hands. He tried to keep them on the floor, between his knees, as he stared at Harry and kept back the bitterness crawling and foaming in his throat.
            I have to be. I have to be, or I’m leaving.
            But he didn’t want to bring that up right now, or threaten Harry. The threat should be clear enough in what he’d said so far. He sat and watched, and watched the struggle that took place in Harry.
            “You’re not less important to me,” Harry finally whispered. “It’s just—I’ve been likely to take off so quickly that it’ll take some time to change things. If I slip up, I don’t want you to think that means I don’t—”
            He seemed to go into another internal struggle. Draco thought he was probably searching for what words to use. He opened his mouth to provide Harry with some soothing ones. He wasn’t completely satisfied, himself, but he did at least have evidence now that Harry was trying to think of him instead of just taking off.
            “If I slip up,” Harry said, all at once in a gasp, as if he’d been sucking in a breath as he surfaced from deep water, “I don’t want you to think that means I don’t love you.”
            Draco gaped at him. He thought for a second that of all the places Harry could have had this revelation, a hostel was one of the least appropriate.
But he shook that out of his head and reached up to cradle Harry’s cheeks tenderly. “Do you?” he whispered. “That’s something you just now realized?”
“I realized it a few days ago. When you were defying Ask and I realized that I liked you fighting for me.” Harry reached up and took Draco’s hand in a tight grip, moving it back and forth in a slow circle on his own face. “That’s another reason that I’ve tried to keep people from fussing over me, you know. Because the ones who do generally wanted to get close to me and then prevent other people from getting close to me.”
“I want to keep dragons from eating you and Dragon-Keepers from using you as bait. Does that count?”
            Harry gave him a fleeting grin, but went on studying him, and Draco knew he needed a serious answer. He bowed his head a little and murmured, “I love you, too. It took me a long time to recognize the emotion.”
            “As long as you feel it, and don’t feel like you have to say it because I did.”
            “Way to undermine everyone who cares about you,” Draco muttered, although he rolled his eyes so Harry wouldn’t get anxious. “No. I think I needed you to say it first. To take that step. That’s the kind of rush into danger I approve of,” he added, and leaned up, and bore Harry softly back into the bed, gently moving so that Harry’s legs were sprawled on either side of him.
            He watched the entire time, to make sure Harry’s wound wasn’t acting up and he wouldn’t hurt from this, but all Harry looked like he was about to die of was anticipation. Draco smiled. He still used magic to take their clothes off, though, because it would involve Harry moving around less.
            “Here…” Harry began, and reached for his own wand, but Draco was the one who shook his head, removed his clothes, and conjured lube, all by magic.
            “Watch, then,” Draco said, and carefully made Harry’s cock so slick with the lube that it was difficult to hold onto. Then he reached back and dabbed a little around his own arse. But it was awkward and hard to reach, and he finally snorted and knelt up so Harry could reach him. “Here,” he added, and conjured more lube into Harry’s palms.
            Harry’s face was a wonder, skin so red, eyes so wide, and arousal so visible in the way his hands shook. Draco closed his own eyes and sighed in pleasure as Harry slid his fingers carefully inside Draco. He’d been trying to keep them open as long as he could, to savor the sight of Harry. But some things were impossible.
            When he thought he was ready—which was before Harry thought he was, if the way his wet hands tightened on Draco’s hips indicated anything—Draco settled back, lined himself up with exquisite care, and then plunged down.
            It felt like fire, but that didn’t mean complete pain. Draco opened his eyes and smiled at Harry, bobbing slowly back and forth while Harry still looked like he was trying to cling to sanity by his fingernails.
            “Could you warn me when you do that?” Harry finally gasped.
            “And take all the fun out of it?” Draco wriggled and settled himself some more, then wriggled to the side, and then forwards. Ah, there. He hit himself in the prostate and sighed luxuriously, opening an eye to check on Harry. No, the small line on his shoulder still showed no sign of splitting.
            “I’m going to do the work here,” Draco said.
            “I’m not that hurt—”
            “It’s because I want to.” Draco’s eyebrow went commandingly up, and Harry gratifyingly shut up in the same amount of time. “You should think about what I want more often now, since you’re in love with me. Right?”
            “Er,” said Harry. He seemed not to have considered that point of view before.
            Given where his cock was right now, Draco couldn’t exactly blame him. But he rocked idly back and forth, putting the pressure on, until Harry let his head flop back and said, “Oh, Merlin. Whatever you want.”
            Draco nodded graciously. They could have a real conversation about this later and figure out what they were going to do about Harry’s impulses.
            But for now, the only thing Draco really wanted was to gratify those impulses. He raised himself and sat down again, and it was excellent. Then he did it again, and he was awash in pleasure, sighing and moaning because he couldn’t hold himself back.
            From the sounds that Harry made below him, he at least wasn’t alone. Draco settled himself even more firmly into place with a small wriggle, and Harry groaned in a way that raced straight up Draco’s spine and exploded like a firework into his brain. Draco smiled and went on rocking, his eyes half-closed and his body aching with goodness.
            Harry writhed beneath him and pushed back against him, and that was even better. Draco ended up draped over Harry’s chest, his cheek against the pounding rhythm beneath him that was Harry’s heart.
            Harry’s hips were just making little flexing motions, now. Draco closed his eyes and rode the motions, letting them rock through him. This was the moment he loved best, when they got like this and could make themselves known to each other without a lot of movement.
            Harry gave a soft gasp and clenched one hand in Draco’s hair as if Draco was blowing him instead of on top of him. Draco smiled into Harry’s skin, and then sat back and let the warm glow fade as he met Harry’s eyes.
            “Ready?” he whispered.
            “Always,” Harry whispered back.
            Draco nodded, and then began to jam himself more fiercely up and down. The world was spinning around him, his head ached, and he felt as if his arse was starting to burn. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.
            But Harry had already come, so he wouldn’t have to. And Draco had got more than expert at satisfying himself with Harry, who was one of the more generous lovers Draco had ever had. A few snaps of his hips, a bow of his head until his hair was rasping over his ears and he was hissing, and then he was over the edge himself, in a torrent of bliss that washed away all the aches like a hot shower.
            Harry held him as he lay there. Draco finally groaned and rolled off, and reached languidly for his wand.
            “You can leave it until tomorrow,” Harry breathed in his ear.
            “No, because then it’ll be gross,” Draco muttered back, and Harry rolled his eyes and let his hand fall into the middle of Draco’s back.
            Draco didn’t bother to move fast when he cast the charm, though, because Harry was right about some things. He didn’t have to hurry. He was the only one, other than Harry, here. He was the only one who had to care.
            But just because of that, he wanted to care, and he didn’t stop using his wand until he and Harry were both clean and lay under sheets that he’d warmed up with magic, too. Harry immediately rolled over until his face was tucked into Draco’s ribs and began breathing in the slow, sonorous way that meant he had slid straight off to sleep for once.
            Draco was trying to memorize the shape of Harry’s shoulder when he slid away himself.
*
            “Not that I’m not glad to see you, Pansy,” Draco was saying, a smile on his face that made him look relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. Harry knew him well enough by now to make out his tension, though. It was in the way his leg slightly bounced off the edge of his chair. “But yesterday, we were so busy talking about me, I completely missed what you were doing in Sweden.”
            “We could still talk about you,” said Parkinson. “And you.” She leered at Harry. It was a good leer, Harry thought, fighting down a shiver.
            “You have enough details to last you a lifetime,” Draco said, which rather made Harry wonder what Parkinson had wanted to know about. Then he thought of the leer, and hastily banished the thought from his mind. “Anyway. What are you doing here? Don’t tell me that you’ve joined the Dragon-Keepers.”
            “Draco.” Shuddering as if offended by the mere suggestion, Parkinson stood and moved around the room. Watching her, Harry thought he could make out the traces of some kind of training in her walk and stance. Not Auror, he was certain. Maybe Unspeakable, or some kind of dueling, or even dance. “Of course not. I have an important Ministry position.” She cast a triumphant glance over her shoulder, making Draco scowl.
            I’ll have to ask him why it’s triumphant later, Harry thought, and slipped his hand into Draco’s.
            “I help negotiate appropriate treaties and compensation for the sale of dragon products to Britain.” Parkinson looked out her window and smiled a little as she sipped at the cup of steaming tea she held. At least, Harry thought it was tea. It smelled like the inside of a dusty bathroom. “It’s a good job. A sweet life.”
            “Not nearly the sort of thing I had thought you would be doing,” said Draco. He sounded diplomatic.
            “Of course not.” Parkinson turned a lazy wrist towards him. “But you didn’t think much at all the last time I knew you, Draco dear.”
            “Why do you call him dear when you keep insulting him?” Harry asked. He was getting a little tired of Parkinson. And besides, he was curious and wanted to know the answer.
            If Draco had really given away lots of “details” about Harry, it was the least he could ask for.
            “Oh, it’s tradition,” said Parkinson. Now Harry really thought he probably shouldn’t have asked the question, since there was a sort of unholy gleam in Parkinson’s eyes. “At one time, you know, I thought I would marry Draco.”
            “You were the one who thought that,” Draco said, narrowing his eyes. “I always knew that I wanted to marry someone else.”
            “And that’s one reason I can insult him,” Parkinson told Harry, coming back to the table and setting down her cup. She gave Draco a critical look, then reached out and readjusted his hair. Harry couldn’t actually see what was different about it when she was done, but Parkinson seemed satisfied. “I did think it. I was close to him in my imagination. I dreamed about our wedding.”
            Harry shifted uncomfortably. Parkinson gave him a grin that Harry thought he would otherwise be most likely to see coming at him very fast through bloodstained water.
            “But it turned out not to work,” Parkinson said, with a little shrug that flipped off a weight of thoughts Harry wasn’t so ready to dismiss. She sat down again and nodded at both of them, Draco first. “I’m glad that you’ve found someone who can fulfill all your fantasies, darling. I’m also glad that it’s not me.”
            Draco laughed and responded to that in a like manner, and Harry was left to sit there and shake his head. He would never understand Slytherin friendships.
            Still, he thought as he watched the lights and shadows play over Draco’s face from Parkinson’s gently flickering fire, he could keep trying. He was willing to make a lot of effort for Draco. Simply making this effort shouldn’t dismay him this much.
            Draco caught his eye, and reached out under the table to entwine his fingers with Harry’s. Harry took a deep, glad breath.
            Parkinson could look at them with a knowing eye all she liked, which she immediately proceeded to do. The important thing was if they understood each other.
            And Harry thought they had, at least, got a lot closer.
*
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An Offering of Dragons