Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Brutally Beloved	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the characters named here. I make no money from this writing.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
One Can Keep a Secret

He arrived at Ron and Hermione’s home not even five minutes after the clock had told him to head home, and knocked as he entered.
"I'm here!" He called, and Hermione appeared in the kitchen doorway, silently shushing him. He tiptoed towards her, feeling as if something wasn't quite right. She was wearing cleaning clothes, not going out clothes, and in the kitchen?
Harry entered, looking at her with suspicion.
"What's up?" He asked, feeling the tingle on the back of his neck as he took in the tea that waited on the kitchen table, the sleeping baby in her bassinet, and the scent of lemony cleaning potion. Hermione clearly didn't need a babysitter.
"Tea?" Hermione asked politely, sitting at the table, keeping her voice low as she rocked the sleeping baby.
"Sure." Harry muttered, sure she'd get to the point eventually. He sipped his tea, keeping an eye on the clock as they exchanged pleasantries. She made it three whole minutes before she finally came to something of substance.
"Ginny mentioned that you went by Malfoy's this weekend." She said, a bit TOO casually.
"Yeah." Harry answered, rolling his eyes. Just what he needed to talk about. NOT.
Hermione eyed him. A suspicious look on her face that made Harry instantly wary. It was NEVER good when she got that look.
"Well… Did anything… HAPPEN?" She asked, staring at him intently. For a brief moment, Harry's heart thumped madly, and he was CERTAIN she knew.
"I met his son." Harry replied with every bit of nonchalance he could muster. Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry gulped nervously. She couldn't know.
"Aaaaand?" Hermione probed vaguely. Harry shook his head.
"'And' nothing, Hermione. What are you on about?" He was afraid he already knew the answer though. Hermione sighed a long-suffering sigh.
"Are you really going to make me ask, Harry? Fine. Did you cheat on Ginny?" Hermione said it with an unwavering voice, her eyes searching his face, and Harry felt a chill go up his spine as he tried not to squirm. There was no way she could know.
"No, Hermione! I did not cheat on Ginny. Why would you even ASK that?" Harry refuted defensively. Thinking about cheating was another thing.
"Well, what was I SUPPOSED to think, Harry? Given your previous relationship, and the way you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him at your party, when Ginny mentioned you'd gone over there, I just… I was worried. I KNOW you'd never want to hurt Ginny, but… Anyone could be driven to extremes, especially… with how things have been recently." Hermione spoke quickly, getting her words out before Harry could explode with anger. But as he opened his mouth, glaring at her, eyes flickering to the tiny redhead sleeping nearby, his anger fizzled out, replaced with depressed acceptance. He never should have trusted that Hermione wasn't watching, or noticing the state of his marriage, or lack of enthusiasm.
"Malfoy and I were never in a relationship." He finally argued. He couldn't bring himself to mention the rest of it.
"Well, whatever you were or weren't calling it, I know you were… close… for a while. I can't say I understood it, but… you did seem happy with him. I was honestly surprised when you and Ginny announced your engagement, but you seemed so SURE when I asked you about it, that it was what you wanted… so I didn't press further, but now… after seeing the way you were at the pub… I think maybe I should have…" Harry couldn't stand the way she looked so sad. Her life was perfect, she'd gotten everything she wanted. It wasn't her responsibility to make sure his life was just as perfect. It was an impossible task, anyway, and would only leave her as unhappy as him. Harry tried to push the melancholy thoughts away, and focused on one thing that was puzzling him.
"How long have you known?" He was surprised that the words weren't choked by the fear in his throat. It was as good as an admission. But even if he denied it, if she even suspected, Hermione would be impossible to fool.
"About you and Malfoy?" She asked, and waited for his single brief nod before she answered. "Hmm… I think… I first noticed… that time Ron and I were over at yours, and he showed up. You hid it really well, but… there were signs. The way you kept looking at each other, for one. It wasn't exactly NICE, but it was different from how you used to do. Then there were the little comments that seemed like inside jokes that neither of you actually found funny." Hermione answered, thinking back. Harry easily recalled the night she meant. It had been the first of a few similar evenings, where Malfoy had joined him and his friends for a very strange gathering… though it had been entirely unplanned.
An angry knocking at the door made Harry jump in surprise.
"I'll be right back." He told Ron and Hermione, setting his drink down, and picking himself up off the floor. The pair of them were snuggled together on his couch, and he knew they'd be kissing the moment he left the room. He didn't really mind.
He was still smiling to himself, warmed by his friends' love, when he opened the door.
He barely even saw who it was before he was attacked, and he'd just managed to pull his wand in defense when he realized, the attacker was far too handsy, and was KISSING him. He shoved Malfoy away, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him inside just far enough to slam the door behind him. Harry shoved him into the wall, and clamped a hand over his mouth as it opened, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say.
"Shut up!" He hissed, more angrily than he might have recently. He and Malfoy had met, nearly every week, for the past three months, but NEVER had they met at his flat. "Ron and Hermione are in the other room." He explained, wanting to quell the anger he could see in the blond's narrowed eyes, and the fingers digging into his wrist. Malfoy shoved his hand away, uncovering his mouth, and glared.
"Fine, I'll go." His voice was an angry hiss, and as he turned to open the door, Harry caught his arm.
"Harry, who is it?" Ron's voice called from the other room. Malfoy glared at him, and yanked his arm free, but Harry grabbed his robes, and caught the back of his head, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his mouth, trying to convey that he wasn't trying to get rid of him.
"You could stay… until after they've gone." Harry offered, letting go of the blond, letting him make his decision. Malfoy stared at him a moment, searching for some sign of a trap. After what seemed like a stretch of eternity, his face broke into a sneer.
"What, you expect me to hide in your bedroom like some concubine?" He whispered derisively. Harry grinned, recognizing the sarcasm as a way of admitting he was considering it, and wanted to hear Harry's plan.
"Or you could join us in the living room. We're just playing stupid party games. None of us are very good at them." Harry admitted, gesturing for Malfoy to follow him.
"Wait… Wait!" Malfoy hissed, sounding slightly panicked as Harry left him by the door, and rejoined his friends. Harry heard him follow, and had to hide his grin as he entered the living room.
"Did you invite someone else?" Hermione asked, watching as Harry stood for a moment, looking at Malfoy glaring as he was forced to catch up the short distance.
"Yeah, I forgot. Um… I invited Malfoy." Harry knew it wasn't the smoothest introduction, but he tried to keep the guilty blush from his face as he plopped into his previous place opposite his friends, on the floor, with his back to the fire.
"What! Why?" Ron was instantly up in arms, dislodging Hermione as he sat upright, and glared at the man that now stood in the doorway to the hall.
"To ruin your evening, Weasley." Malfoy shot back. Harry sighed, and gave Draco a look of warning.
"On the request of the Minister, I'm TRYING to 'build bridges, and form new alliances with old enemies.' You know. You heard what Kingsley said at the ceremony last year. Apparently he wants me to take it more literally. Show the ogling public it's not impossible to at least TRY to get along?"
"Oh, that’s actually very big of you, Harry." Hermione praised, while Ron grumbled, and continued to glare. "Though, I must say: Malfoy, one single foul word from you, and I won't hesitate to hex your bollocks off, and bury you under a decade of restitution litigation."
"Fine. Whatever." Malfoy muttered, and glared at Harry. Harry shrugged at him. He may enjoy their occasional tryst, but he wouldn't lift a finger to save him from Hermione's justice.
He could stay, and behave, or he WAS welcome to leave. Though, as he eyed the room, and the seating arrangements, and slowly took a seat on the floor, nearer Harry than the other two, Harry couldn't help wanting him to stay. He really did enjoy the time they'd been spending together, and the strange almost-friendship that had been growing between their passionate conflicts. They had an understanding most days, and on rare days, they'd even talk afterwards.
"Well, what games are you playing?" Malfoy changed the subject rather bluntly.
Hermione summoned a fourth glass, and poured some of the firewhiskey and soda in, explaining the rules of her muggle drinking game. Harry noticed Malfoy's nose wrinkle as she explained, but he said nothing, and as they started back up, he joined in without comment.
"So… Draco, how have you been getting along since the trials ended?" Hermione sounded forced and awkward, but Harry appreciated her effort at diplomacy.
"Just fine, thank you." He didn't sound gracious, nor did he add details. Harry glanced at his friends, and then at his secret lover.
"Last time we spoke, you mentioned you were taking part in the repairs at Hogwarts. How's that coming?" Harry prompted, drawing a card, and taking a drink.
"Slowly. I expect the students will start arriving before the repairs have been completed, so for now, we're focusing on the necessary corridors, the Great Hall, and the common rooms." He said, repeating exactly what he'd told Harry the previous time, with a look that accused him of not paying attention. Harry shrugged. The clothes Malfoy was wearing this time did make it easier to concentrate on the words, and not just the way his mouth moved.
"Well, that's lovely." Hermione delighted, drawing her own card. They were reaching the bottom of the deck, and Harry was, for once, eager for the game to be over, so he could declare an early bedtime, and usher his friends out. The way Malfoy kept looking at him was so baleful, so full of irritation, he knew that he'd be volatile and full of temper. Whatever had driven him to show up here, at Harry's was only being exacerbated by having to speak to Harry's friends. Harry couldn't wait to get him alone.
"Sure." Malfoy replied to Hermione’s comment, chugging his drink.
"You didn't even draw a card!" Ron accused, as Malfoy set his glass on the table, silently demanding a refill. Hermione pursed her lips, but mixed him another drink.
"At this rate, drinking between draws is the only possible way I can guarantee I’ll actually get tipsy. Why are you diluting the alcohol, anyway, Granger?" Malfoy huffed with exasperation, waving a hand at the bottle of soda. Hermione gave him a look as a teacher might look at a rowdy student.
"So it tastes better. Not everyone enjoys plain alcohol." She chided. Malfoy bristled, ready to say something Harry was sure would be offensive. He threw a warning glare at the blond, who glanced over at the movement, and snapped his mouth shut, glaring back at Harry, a look of rancor on his face. Harry lifted his brows, DARING Malfoy to say something. If he was already in a bad mood, then Harry would gladly take an excuse to punish him after his friends left. Even with the newfound closeness, the violence still had a calming effect on them both, as if their violence was a way of repenting, a penance for whatever they felt they'd done wrong. Malfoy seemed angry, but Harry suspected it was masking guilt. Though what he had to be guilty for, Harry wasn't certain.
"Well, if you're going to be diluting it, perhaps you should play a game that requires more drinking, to balance it out?" Malfoy suggested. Hermione considered it.
"All the games I know are much the same speed. Do you have another game in mind?" Hermione was a perfect saint, offering the verbal olive branch. Harry almost could have kissed her for her benevolence.
"A wizard's one. Have you all got your wands?" When they all nodded, and pulled them out, he held his forward. "Put the tips together, so they all touch. Good, now, repeat after me." He led them in a short spell, and while Harry had no idea what they were saying, he really did trust Draco not to lead them into anything dark or dangerous.
"Alright, everyone place your wand in a corner of the table, facing the middle. Now, one at a time, we will spin our wands in the middle, like so."
"Like spin the bottle? I'm not kissing either of you two." Hermione blurted, her face a bit pink. Harry and Malfoy shared a smirk, and Malfoy chuckled.
"No kissing involved, Granger. Too many blokes present for that to be a fun game." Malfoy's statement nearly made Harry choke, but he managed to pass it off as a cough, and waved his hand for Malfoy to proceed with the explanation.
"Anyway, there are rules. The one person spinning their wand does nothing but spin. The other players all look at the wand, and focus on who you want to drink. The spinning wand will stop, pointing to the wand of the loser, who has to drink. The voters CAN choose to make the spinner drink, but all voters must vote on the spinner, or it defaults to the next majority. If all players vote differently, all of the voters’ wands light up and everyone finishes their drinks, except the spinner."
"That sounds easy enough." Hermione shrugged, and picked up her wand, waving it to clear the cards from the table, so she could set it in the center. "Ready, boys?"
They all affirmed, and Hermione spun. Harry stared at the wand, thinking hard of Malfoy. A drunk Malfoy was an even more fun one.
The wand slowed to a stop, pointing at his, and Harry looked up, surprised, meeting one pair of eyes after the other. Traitors. All of them.
"Drink." Malfoy smirked, nodding to Harry's cup. Harry glared, but took a gulp. Ron spun next, and the spinner landed on Hermione. She dutifully drank, and Harry eagerly took his turn.
The wand pointed at him, and lit up.
"Oh, come ON!" He exclaimed, drinking again. "Really, guys?"
They all snickered, and Harry felt a smile stretch across his face. He really couldn't be peeved when they seemed to be cooperating. Even if it was to his detriment.
They kept spinning, and Harry couldn't help but notice that the wand kept pointing to him most frequently. He was SURE there was a conspiracy against him. Before long, the room was spinning, and everyone seemed to be full of laughter, and nothing seemed to be able to stay still.
"Was this some *hic* plot, Malfoy? You're TRYING to get me drunk, aren't you? You've somehow cheated the game, so it keeps *hic* landing on me!" Harry accused, glaring at the blond in a suspicious way. Hermione giggled, and Malfoy gave him a LOOK.
"I don't need to get you drunk, Potter. We're FRIENDS, now, remember?" Malfoy snarled, making Harry glare harder.
"Friends, my ass." Harry grumbled. "Friends wouldn't *hic* conspire against me like this."
"Conspire against you? Really Potter? You must think I have LOADS of free time, to just waste on thinking about you, and how to win some imaginary feud."
"Really, boys…" Hermione's voice was lost as Harry spoke over her, arguing with Malfoy. He was fairly certain it was a good thing the room was spinning. If he could have, he was sure he would have tossed Malfoy to the ground.
"Don't know why you'd even bother. I've proven that I could take you in my sleep!" Harry bragged, taking another throaty sip of his drink. He didn't quite recall that it was what was making him so thirsty in the first place.
"In your sleep, really? How about sotted off your face? I bet you can't even stand up!" Malfoy egged. Hermione was leaning forward, saying something, but Harry paid her no mind.
"I can too. See?" He pushed himself upright, and for a brief, dizzy moment, he was victorious. But then the rotation of the world seemed to catch up to his legs, and he tumbled to the floor, and laughter filled the room. His chest hurt from laughing, and he even heard Ron guffawing, and Hermione's chuckles, but when he saw the flushed laughter and pure joy on Malfoy's face, his chest squeezed almost painfully. He wanted to kiss Malfoy. He didn't even care if his friends saw.
"Fuck you!" He spat through his laughter, which only made the giggles louder. Malfoy fell back, a hand clutching his shaking belly as he laughed, tears in his eyes as he squinted at the ceiling.
For a moment, Harry felt blissful contentment. He felt warm, and loved, and everything was perfect. There was hope.
"Fuck you, Potter. It's your turn." Malfoy suggested, pushing himself upright, and looking at Harry with a look full of meaning. Harry was startled nearly back to sobriety by his forward comment, and sat back up himself.
"My turn? It's never my turn, Draco." He glared, sure that he took his meaning.
"But it is your turn. Spin." Malfoy smirked, gesturing to the table. Harry could have slapped himself for his stupidity. Of course he was talking about the game. He spun, glaring at Malfoy. To his shock, the wand actually pointed at the blond, and he took a drink, still pink-faced from laughter.
A loud snore startled them, and they both looked over to see Ron, who hadn't said a word in quite a while, his head tilted back on the sofa, his arm wrapped loosely around Hermione.
"Why is it not surprising that Weasley can't hold his whiskey?" Malfoy drawled, smirking. Hermione gave him a reprimanding look that had no effect, and unwrapped Ron's arm.
"Well, I think we'd better go. I'll get him to bed. Will you be alright, Harry?" Hermione spoke softly, even as she rubbed Ron's chest to wake him up. Her eyes flickered to Malfoy, and Harry nearly scoffed. She was worried if he'd be safe alone with the blond? She should have been worried about the blond…
"I'll be fine. I'll make sure he behaves." Harry smirked at Draco, who glared at him as Hermione collected her and Ron's wands.
"Alright. Come on, Ron. Up you get." She hoisted the tall redhead to his feet, and led him to the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and turned to fix Malfoy with a deadly stare. Even drunk, Harry recognized it, and felt a tingle of fear.
"Don't you dare start anything, Malfoy." She warned.
"Moi? What about him? He usually starts it." Malfoy replied with a smirk, and a look at Harry. Hermione's eyes darted from Malfoy's snide expression to Harry's defensive glare, and back. Harry was far too drunk to realize that her eyes narrowed, and she paused a moment too long.
"Fine. Start whatever you want. Just don't make the morning papers." She shot to both of them, and disappeared into a rush of green flames. Malfoy chuckled, and Harry fell back to the floor.
"You suspect we COULD make the morning papers, Potter? 'Hero Potter caught with his pants down! Death Eater ties, or something more sinister?'" Malfoy chuckled, and Harry felt his own laughter in his chest. He didn't doubt for one second that the Prophet would have a field day of accusing him of all sorts of nonsense if he let them find out about his little game with Malfoy.
"That'd only be a possibility if I could get my pants down. I don't think my fingers are working…" Harry mused, lifting one hand to flex his clumsy hand.
"Hmm… need some help, there?" Malfoy crawled over to him. And Harry stared up at the pale face, golden in the soft glow of the fire. He almost felt intimidated. He was VERY inebriated, and by the look Malfoy was giving him, he knew he had the upper hand.
"Yeah, if you wanna just… suck me off, that'd be great." Harry mocked, letting his arms fall to the ground. Malfoy climbed over him, and bent down, nearly kissing, but just far enough away to be a tease. He knew by now that Harry wanted him. How Harry NEEDED to touch him. And he was using it against him.
"Say please, Potter." Malfoy baited. Harry glared. In all their fooling around, all of their power games, he'd never begged Malfoy to touch him. It chafed that Malfoy would use his incapacitation to get him to do so now.
"Fuck you, Malfoy." He growled, refusing to lose. He wasn't worried that Malfoy would leave. Surely if he did, Harry would be asleep too fast to regret it.
"I'm sure you'd love to fuck me. Say please." Malfoy breathed into Harry's ear. Harry opened his mouth to curse the blond again, but whatever words he'd been thinking were washed from his mind as a wet tongue traced the curve of his ear. He breathed in, and his graceless hands grabbed at Malfoy, trying to push him off, and pull him closer, and pay him back for the sneaky move.
Malfoy's tongue traced its way down his neck, and Harry arched into the sensation. Even when he was cooperating, Draco was rarely so generous with his interest. Harry wasn't sure whether to thank the alcohol, or his own limp state for Malfoy's sudden lavish attentions. Whatever the reason, he found it incredibly compelling, and knew he was already half-hard from just the few, simple actions.
Draco's hand found his pants, and rubbed gently, quickly bringing him to full-hardness, and when he used his teeth to softly tug at Harry's ear, a moan escaped the tanned throat.
"Say please, Potter, and I'll do it." Malfoy urged. It took Harry a moment to piece together what he meant. He was really offering to go down on him? Without complaint, or argument, or pretending he hated the very idea?
"Please…" Harry breathed, unable to pass up the opportunity. His whole world was spinning, and tilting, and Malfoy was making it worse as he yanked and fiddled and disrobed Harry. Harry closed his eyes, and only reopened them when the movement stopped, and he could feel the warmth from the fire on his bare skin. He glanced down, and saw that he wasn't wearing a single piece of clothing. Malfoy had managed to strip him bare. He'd known that Malfoy liked what they usually did, but it was interesting to Harry that he'd go to the trouble of baring Harry's entire body. The way he was staring was also interesting. Harry was sure the Firewhiskey was partially to blame for the eager, excited way Malfoy was looking at him. He looked as though his eyes were exploring, appreciating what they saw. Harry felt strangely attractive as Draco looked at him. Usually things were so heated, he couldn't be bothered to think about what Malfoy actually thought of him, but as Draco looked down at him, he was more than intrigued.
He didn't dare say anything, lest it break the strange spell that being drunk had cast over them. Instead, he bit his lip, and balled his hands on the carpet, waiting for Draco to touch him. The blond delivered before too long, reaching one unsteady hand forward, he traced it along Harry's body curiously, touching where his eyes had already explored. Harry lay still, watching Malfoy study the lines of muscle, the golden skin that contrasted his pale hand. His fingers skimmed the short trail of black hair that led from Harry's navel, and when his hand found the hard, hot shaft, his fingers traced that, too, with equal curiosity and gentleness. When his head dipped, and soft platinum hair brushed his skin, Harry was sure he'd died. Malfoy's mouth was warm, delicate, and felt like perfection. It was slower, and softer than he usually made Malfoy do it, and as the wet tongue swirled and probed, he found it just as enjoyable as forcing himself down the tight throat. It felt like being wanted.
A soft moan slipped past his lips. He squeezed his fist tighter, struggling against the urge to grab the soft hair and guide Malfoy's rhythm. Malfoy worked slowly, steady in his oral exploration, and Harry could do nothing but enjoy it. He glanced at the fireplace, all too aware that Hermione might have forgotten something, could Floo back unannounced at any moment, and see them sprawled on the floor. He stared down at the blond strands of silk, and realized the riskiness of their position was more of an excitement than a deterrent. He tried to sit up, to grab Malfoy, kiss him, anything but lie helplessly, uselessly, under the tortuously adept ministrations. The room spun dangerously, and he fell back without a reward. He let his eyes close, and knew from the lack of mouth on his skin that Malfoy must be looking down at him. He forced his eyes back open, and grinned up at the silver stare good-naturedly.
"You may have to do all the work tonight. I'm seriously dizzy." Harry chuckled at his own uselessness. Malfoy smirked.
"I think I'll manage." He drawled, and began pulling his own clothes off. Harry stared, enraptured, as inch after inch of alabaster skin was revealed. He was truly perfect. Soft lines of muscle, slim, without looking fragile, pale, with angelic features. As he pulled his last bit of clothing off, Harry stretched out a curious, unsteady hand, and let it trail down the front of that smooth, soft skin.
"Christ, how much lotion do you USE, Draco?" He grumbled, wanting to grab handfuls of the pleasing flesh.
"If you're lucky, I'll use enough that it doesn't hurt." Malfoy replied with a fair amount of snark. Harry felt a wash of panic. He'd never been the one to take it, before. Malfoy couldn't seriously expect to just change the game so abruptly, just because he was drunk?
"Don't even FUCKING think about it, Malfoy." He warned, trying to prepare himself to wrestle Malfoy into submission. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to win. All of a sudden, Malfoy getting him sloshed on purpose seemed entirely likely. "How'd you manage to cheat, anyway? What was the trick?"
Malfoy smirked at his rapid change of thought, and chuckled in a way that made Harry feel like he was being called an idiot.
"Well, the one thing we three had in common was you, so, really it was just simple statistics that you'd be the one drinking the most. Hate the game, not me." Malfoy explained, spreading himself over Harry in a way that felt intimate, and dominating. Harry wasn't sure he hated the feeling.
"I don't hate you." He admitted, his eyes mapping the slightly blurry face. Malfoy seemed to be making an expression, but not one he could read.
"Well, I figured as much." Malfoy said, and leaned in, pressing his lips to Harry's ear, teasing the lobe with kisses, and his wet, trailing tongue. Harry grabbed him, pressing their bodies together, loving the miles of skin contact. "Afterall, I already knew you fancy me."
Harry was surprised that Draco new that. He'd never said it aloud. He'd barely even thought it to himself as more than a passing worry. But in his drunken state, it made perfect sense. They'd been having sex regularly, Malfoy had just spent the evening with his friends, and they'd actually had conversations that didn't end in a fight. On top of that, every time he saw his secret lover, his heart pounded in his chest with anticipation. He got excited when he decided he was going to stop by Malfoy Manor, more than just aroused. He found himself eagerly looking forward to seeing whether Malfoy was in a good mood, or a bad one. Either way, he generally had a good time.
"Draco… do you… like this? More than just the sex?" Harry whispered, almost hoping that he hadn't been heard. But of course Malfoy had heard him. He heard everything, even things Harry didn't say aloud.
"Why? Going to ask me to be your girlfriend? Fuck off, Potter." Malfoy replied with vinegar, nipping at the ear he played with. Harry groaned.
"Fuck you, Malfoy, just answer the question!" He exclaimed, enjoying the feathery feeling between his fingers. When Malfoy pulled away, and looked down into his eyes hesitantly, Harry realized belatedly that he'd been fondling the platinum hair. Malfoy's cheeks were pink, and his eyes darted back and forth, searching for some trap. Harry decided to take a leap of faith.
"I like it." Harry admitted, "I… like you. Surprisingly." Harry added, still confused about WHY exactly, he seemed to fancy Malfoy. Sure the sex was amazing, but… that was it, wasn't It? It was really all Malfoy could give him.
"I like it, too." Draco whispered, his palms flat on Harry's chest as he blushed darker. For a brief, insane moment, Harry wanted to blurt the word 'love'. But that was ridiculous. It was impossible, and it was crazy to entertain such a stupid notion. So he grabbed Malfoy, and pulled him down into a kiss, drowning the word with molten, tangible emotion. Malfoy kissed him back, and draped naked over him, seeming lost in the kiss, Harry recalled how angry he'd been when he arrived. He gently pulled his lips away, not wanting his question to drift away on his fuzzy, jumbled train of thought.
"What happened today, anyway?" He breathed, unable to open his eyes for a moment, as the world tilted.
"What do you mean?" Malfoy sounded more defensive than confused, and Harry grinned.
"You seemed stressed earlier. What happened?" He pressed. He opened his eyes in time to see Malfoy roll his.
"Oh. THAT. Nothing." Malfoy grumbled, leaning in for another kiss. Harry tilted his head away again, and pressured the topic.
"Nothing, my arse. Tell me." He ordered. Malfoy groaned, and let his head fall to Harry's shoulder in defeat.
"My parents tried to set me up with some French witch." He stated. "Think I need to get married, start a family, produce an heir. Absolute rubbish. There's YEARS for that nonsense." He grouched. Harry laughed. He couldn't stop it. He could just imagine Malfoy trying to produce an heir, and being unable to finish, as he died of humiliation, wanting the rough, forceful treatment that Harry had spoiled him with.
"It's not funny, Potter." Malfoy growled. Harry barely felt the short nails that were clawing his arms in warning.
"Of course it is!" Harry gasped. "Just think, some witch would marry you for your money, and I bet in a month, you'd be BEGGING me to teach her how to handle you!"
"Handle me!?" Malfoy looked furious, and as he tried to roll away, Harry held him, rolling on top of him. "Fuck you, Potter! No one 'handles' me!" He was pushing, squirming, desperate to be free in a way he hadn't been in so long. Harry did his best to stop the laughter, but only managed, when he finally got a good look at Malfoy's face. He looked furious, and… trapped. Could he really NOT get free? Harry took a moment to do his best at assessing the position of their naked bodies, and the red-faced effort Malfoy was exerting to remove him. Except… Harry wasn't moving. Harry realized he had hold of his wrists, and was pinning him. Like second nature, he had stolen all of his leverage, pinned his hips, and easily outweighed him, with the very muscles that Draco had commented on being so heavy a few months ago. He knew he'd put on even more muscle, and the almost-fear of being truly unable to escape him was so strange to see on Malfoy's perfect face. Harry loosened his grip, and grabbed his face with one hand, pressing their lips together roughly, as Malfoy shoved at him, sputtering profanities against Harry's mouth.
"Get off of me!" He sounded livid, and Harry grinned.
"Make me." He challenged. Malfoy's wand was still on the coffee table, safely out of reach, and now he knew, even drunk, he'd win a physical fight.
"Fuck you!" Malfoy spat, going limp, in a new form of protest. Harry looked down at him, suspicious. Harry took hold of his wrists again, proactively restraining him, he forced them back above Malfoy's head, pinning him again. He held them with one hand, and repositioned himself using every sloppy bit of control he had. Malfoy was struggling in protest again before he was done, and as he settled comfortably between jostling, milky thighs, he recognized Malfoy's arousal, his half-hearted struggles, and stared into his eyes as he plunged deep into the heavenly heat. Malfoy's cheeks were flushed, and he winced in pain, going deathly still as Harry tried to find a rhythm. Harry watched as the pain faded from his face, and he glared angrily up at green eyes.
"Tell me, Draco, that I'm not handling you right now." Harry taunted. "Tell me you wouldn't beg for this if all I did was suck you off for a month."
"Ffffuck…" Malfoy cursed in response. He gave one more attempt at pulling his wrists free, and then slumped in defeat, not bothering to pretend he was humiliated as he moved his hips wantonly against Harry's.
"You're such a slut, Draco…" Harry murmured, pressing their lips together, and working his way into the open, willing mouth.
"Ffuck- uh- you…" Malfoy managed, between kisses, in a gasping voice.
"Shh… I'm trying to concentrate here…" Harry teased, "Don't want to accidentally hurt you…" he was only half-joking at that, aware with every movement that he was putting too much weight on the delicate wrists, and pushing his thighs wider than could be comfortable.
"I don't fucking care if you hurt me." Malfoy ground through clenched teeth, doing his best to speak without moaning. Harry grinned, and wrapped rough fingers around his slender throat. He squeezed, knowing it was probably too hard.
"You sure about that?" Harry asked, doing his best to ignore the way the world tilted and lurched with his every motion.
"Fuck… just…" Malfoy was gasping, unable to breathe properly around Harry's grip, but still, he managed to form words, and Harry was impressed. "Don't… kill me…"
Harry was slightly startled by the words, and let go, bracing himself on the floor, he stared down at the blond as he coughed, and caught his breath.
"Are you serious? You like pain THAT much?" He asked, not even aware that he'd paused completely in surprise. The watering dark grey eyes were an anchor in his tilting world.
"It's… it's not the pain. I don't MIND the pain, but… no. Thats not what I like." He clarified, meeting Harry's gaze, unwaveringly. Harry blinked down at him. He was SURE that meant Malfoy must be getting off on some other aspect of it, but for the life of him, he couldn't imagine what.
"I'm VERY drunk, right now, Malfoy. I might ACTUALLY hurt you… So you need to be VERY specific about what it is you DO want." Harry did his best not to slur his words, but looking down at that face, he was finding it more difficult to form words than the alcohol usually made it.
"Fuck, Potter! You're so fucking dense!" Malfoy cursed, looking pained in a wholly unphysical way. "I like YOU. Alright? Everything you do. It's just… it's like… I don't have to think. You just… do it, and it's great, and sometimes it's bloody, or leaves bruises, and… that's okay. Choke me, bite me, call me names if you fucking want, just… dont… stop." He sounded nearly anguished as he spoke, so Harry took pitty on him.
He began thrusting, deep, arrhythmic thrusts, letting his hand dance across pale skin with abandon, and occasional malice, scratching, pinching, grabbing. Silver eyes fell closed, and a soft pink mouth opened to let sounds of pleasure escape. The world blurred into a haze of body heat, velvety skin, and white-hot passion.
Harry had woken in his bed the next morning, unsure how he'd gotten there, but he had brief flashes of.memory of Malfoy atop him, eagerly fucking himself on Harry's stiff cock. When he realized that there was a weight on his chest, and glanced down, he was met with a faceful of white-blond hair, right under his nose. He inhaled the scent that came with it, and had relaxed back into the pillows, willing to ignore his pounding head until his human blanket woke up. Even if it did wake up with comments about his bed being too small for two people, and the sheets being low-quality. He knew, no matter what Malfoy insulted about him, or his home, or his friends, he would come back, regardless, and suffer, all in the name of that thoughtless well of passion, and the warm, melting feeling that came after.
"Harry, are you feeling alright?" Hermione asked softly. Harry jolted, and shook his head to clear it of the sticky cobwebs.
"Yeah, fine, just thinking. I can see how that might've tipped you off." Harry nodded. "Why didn't you ever tell me you knew?"
"Well, I saw how happy you were, and I didn't want to scare you into giving that up. When you got married to Ginny, I just figured it didn't matter, but… I've seen how you're getting. I was going to suggest you see someone, a marriage counselor, but… I don't think thats what you need." She spoke softly, but her words felt like a slap to his face. He couldn't believe what she was saying.
"You think I SHOULD cheat on Ginny?" Harry asked, appalled.
"No! Not at all! I'm just saying… I'd understand if you had. Or, if you want to, I dunno, actually try being friends with Malfoy. I think… I can't believe I'm about to say this, but… I think he might ACTUALLY be good for you." Hermione looked apologetic, begging him not to be cross with her.
He sighed. He couldn't be angry at her. Just like he couldn't stay mad at Ginny, or Ron, or Draco.
"I don't think being friends is a possibility." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, and stretching a bit. "I didn't cheat on Ginny, but I wouldn't say things went WELL, either."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, leaning forward. Her hand had stopped rocking the bassinet, so Harry reached out, and took up the action.
"It was… too much. I'd thought the pain would fade, like grief, you know? But… seeing him, being in that house… seeing Scorpius… it was… too much." He felt clumsy trying to explain, but Hermione just nodded.
"I think I understand. I take it the… tension?... Between you two never got properly resolved?" She sipped delicately at her tea. Harry let out a bark of laughter.
"Not even a little. I never told anyone, but… he showed up to my wedding. I'd thought he'd understand, that we were friends, but… I was sooo wrong. He was furious. Pretended to be all cheery and even congratulated me, until he got me alone. I thought he was going to curse me, or Ginny, or…. Set the place on fire. He was out of control. I was actually a little scared of him, of what he'd do, or say. But… he just screamed a lot. He tried to get me to call the whole thing off, tried to get me to… um… anyway, I didn't, and… he left, and… I didn't see him again until this past Friday." Harry felt a heat in his face, and a pricking behind his eyes. A moment later, a sniffle escaped him. Hermione practically jumped to her feet, and darted around the baby and the table, and wrapped her arms around him, smothering him in comfort, and the scent of family. Harry tried to push her away, tried to hold back his stupid, uncalled for tears. Neither worked, and in moments, he found himself sobbing into her chest with his arms wrapped around her. He felt like a giant baby, sniffling and bawling, but as he cried, and tormented himself with memories of a perfect white smile, glittering silver eyes, and a furious, jealous explosion of platinum and alabaster, cloaked in black, BEGGING him not to do it, he felt relieved. At last, he wasn't the only one carrying the knowledge. Hermione knew. He knew. Draco knew. Draco's wife had known before she died. By the laws of probability, he knew more people were bound to find out. One person could keep a secret. Four people was an uncontainable leak. It felt as if the secret was already out. All that was left was damage control. His life was already miserable, he couldn't imagine how it could get worse, except, maybe, if Malfoy left again.
Harry managed to sniffle himself to a stop, and pulled away from his best friend, nodding when she asked if he was okay. He looked at Rose, still sleeping soundly. He thought of a perfect, white-haired baby, sunlight filtering through high windows, shining off of long blond hair, a rose-covered gazebo, and devastated, storm-colored eyes that stared at him as he explained why he was marrying Ginny.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I can't babysit. I have something I have to do." Harry abruptly stood, and headed for the door.
"Are you going to Malfoy Manor?" She asked astutely. Harry paused.
"I don't think Ginny will ask, but if she does, you can tell her where to find me. Don't bother lying for me, Hermione. I'm sick of the dishonesty in my marriage."
"Alright. Harry… um… I'm not telling you to commit adultery, but… don't feel too guilty if you do." Hermione said, looking at him with an almost sad expression that he inspected for a moment. He nodded, and left her house, feeling a surprising stab of pain at what that look had meant.

A/N: Guys, I am SOOOO sorry for how long it took to update! I 100% got distracted with my game-making, and forgot this needed uploaded. T^T please enjoy this ridiculously long chapter as recompense for the weeks left hanging.
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Brutally Beloved