Haunted

VII

The stupid charm Granger had found had been very effective. Draco had tried going through the hangings in Potter’s bed the night before, but he had bounced right off. He had spent the rest of the night wondering around the castle and giving Crabbe and Goyle quite a start, but it wasn’t nearly as fun as annoying Potter.

But he didn’t care, because in less than ten minutes the full moon would shine upon him. He was already outside, waiting anxiously to get his glow. He turned around and looked up to the Gryffindor tower. There were three heads peering out of one of the windows, and they seemed almost as anxious, or nervous for that matter, as he was. And there and then, the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Draco looked at the sky and was filled by a strange feeling of completeness.

‘Beware, world! Malfoy’s out to get you!’, he yelled and laughed wickedly. Tonight would be his night.

He looked up to the Gryffindor tower again, but there was no one looking out.

«Scared, Potter? Did you go hide behind your shield?»

Draco flew up to the tower and went inside. He looked for Potter’s bed and tried going though the hangings futilely. He flew across the floor and up again, going thought Potter and leaving him breathless in the process.

‘Nice shield, but you forgot the floor’, he said proudly. ‘So, how do you like my glow?’

‘Very creepy. Now, leave me alone’, he said in a bored tone.

‘Er… let me think… no.’

Potter smashed a pillow onto his face and groaned. Draco waited for him to put the pillow down, but since he wouldn’t, he punched it hard until his fist had gone through the mattress. Potter grabbed the pillow and tried to hit him with it.

‘Put a silencing spell on the bed’, Draco whispered in his ear.

‘What for?’

‘Just do it’, he said, putting his arm in his throat.

‘Alright. Alright…’, Potter complied, rubbing his throat, and murmured the spell. ‘But stop doing that.’

‘Why?’

‘Because your like a big Malfoy-shaped ice cube!’

‘Really? An ice cube… that’s… interesting’, he said quietly.

Draco ran a finger down his throat, and Potter gulped. He put his glowing face near his and blew gently behind his ear.

‘Stop it, Malfoy’, Potter said uncertainly.

Draco looked into Potter’s eyes and leaned into him to make smooth contact with his mouth. He backed away and saw him with his eyes closed and biting his bottom lip. He dived in again, this time more confidently, burying his tongue in Potter’s.

‘Take off your clothes…’, he whispered into his mouth. ‘Please, Harry…’

The other boy looked at him and smiled for the first time since his death. He took off his pyjamas and lay down again. Draco was floating above him, staring at his body longingly. He caressed his chest with the back of his hand and drew a cold path with his index down to Harry’s stomach. He could see how his chest rose and fell quickly, and he released a whimper at the sight of Harry’s growing erection covered with his cotton underwear. Harry’s hand travelled downwards, seeking desperately for release.

‘No. You don’t get to touch yourself until I tell you to’, Draco commanded.

Harry let out a groan, but put both hands under his head. Draco circled around his nipple with his silvery tongue, making him arch upwards. Without stopping, Draco brushed a finger slowly up Harry’s thigh and, avoiding his groin, down the other.

‘Draco, please…’, he begged, after he licked his stomach and went up again.

Draco removed the hand on his thigh and touched the skin next to Harry’s underwear waistband.

‘Alright, take them off.’

Harry released his erection and moaned loudly when Draco blew it.

‘Oh, fuck… yes!’

Draco slid his tongue through the head and lingered inside of it for a second, before taking in the whole shaft. He pulled down his own pants and grabbed his cock.

‘You can go, now’, Draco said between gasps.

Harry’s hand flew from under his head and begun masturbating through Draco’s mouth. When he came, Draco was still in mid-ecstasy.

‘Holy shit…’, Draco cursed arching his back and unconsciously flying backwards against the shielding charm, which he used as support when he reached his orgasm.

‘It’s not fair…’, Harry murmured, still tired from his mind-blowing pleasure. ‘We never even think about doing something like this when you were alive…’

‘I did, but I didn’t have full access to your bed back then.’

‘What I mean is that, now that you’re dead, we can’t really feel each other. And I want that. I want you to feel me.’

‘Don’t worry, Harry. I will…’