Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You Set Fire to the Rain	By : icicle33 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11826 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or any part of the HP fandom or universe. This story is written purely for pleasure and no money is be made from it. None at all.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Warnings: Harry has some naughty and inappropriate thoughts about Draco. )

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! I appreciate it so much and definitely take your feedback into account. Once again, a special thank you to my betas: Ashiiblack and sonnyisforlovers, and as always, feedback makes my day.

Enjoy.

: : Seven : :

"Secrets are like plants. They can stay buried deep in the earth for a long time, but eventually they'll send up shoots and give themselves away. They have to. It's their nature. Just a tiny green stem at first. Which slowly, insidiously grows taller, stronger, unfolding itself, until there it is. A big fat secret, right in front of your face; a fully bloomed flower perfumed with the scent of deception." ~JRS⁷

: : :

Like everything in my life, my secret was far from simple.

It was a long and complicated story, so I figured that I needed to explain it to you. I needed you to understand why although I had 'luck' in everything I did, the one area I failed miserably in my life was relationships, starting with my relationship with Ginny.

Ginny.

Sometimes, thinking about Ginny still hurt; primarily, in instances like that night when I thought about her lying so still in a hospital bed so pale and fragile and so much like you.

: : :

Coma.

How I hated that word, despised it really. I thought I would never have to deal with another coma, but regrettably, one of the many things you have taught me is that I'm wrong. A lot.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, I had felt such an overwhelming sense of relief that it was finally over—that somehow I had survived. I had been so sure I was going to die, so sure that I would never see my friends and loved ones again—that I didn't even know how to express the immense delirium I felt after defeating that twisted bastard.

Naturally, the first people I sought out were Ron and Hermione. I had to make sure that they were okay; after all, before Andromeda and Teddy, they had been the only family I had ever known. When I found the two of them embracing tearfully outside the castle, my heart swelled so full of gratitude that I thought it would explode. Somehow, the three of us had made it; we had gone against the forces of hell and survived. Even with all the painful losses I suffered, losing Fred, Tonks, and Remus, as long as the golden trio was still intact, I knew that I would carry on.

I had my entire life ahead of me. A life that I could do anything I wanted with—get a job, buy a flat, even get married and have children. Hell, I was even lucky enough to have someone already that I could share my life with—someone that indescribably and irrefutably needed me, Ginny Weasley.

Ginny. Poor, sweet Ginny.

At the time, I had thought that Ginny Weasley was the only girl in the world for me, that she was my soul mate, and that we were destined to get married and have tons of little Weasley-Potter children. Perhaps even enough to start our own Quidditch team. I knew that she was mad for me, and although we had never gotten around to doing anything more than a few secret snog sessions, I was confident that everything would change since Voldemort was dead. Still, it's funny how even though I believed this, once I was finally rid of old Snake Eyes, the thought of finding Ginny and celebrating with her hadn't crossed my mind.

At the festivities in the Great Hall, I searched for everyone that mattered. I checked on all my former housemates and the DA members. I looked for the few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that I knew and even checked on the professors and other staff members. Blimey, I even checked on you and your mother, making sure that no one removed you from the Great Hall. I told everyone that the two of you had just as much a right to be there as everyone else did, and that anyone that felt otherwise would have to answer to me. Everyone left you alone after that. Defeating the darkest wizard of our time does get me some perks in the intimidation department at least. Yes, I made sure that everyone was alright and well taken care of—everyone that is except for Ginny.

For the longest time, I lied to myself and claimed that the reason I hadn't checked on Ginny was because I thought she was locked away safely in the dungeons with the Slytherins. Mrs Weasley had forbidden her from fighting in the battle since she was still underage and I had fiercely agreed with her. I wanted her to be safe, and of course, the safest place was far away from evil Death Eaters and mentally unstable Dark Lords. Still, I should have known better than to trust that she would listen. Ginny has always been fiery, and she has a mischievous streak that would keep even the twins in line. Telling her to stay away from the battle, was like forbidding you from cheating at Quidditch—completely impossible.

Unfortunately for Ginny, she had gotten on the wrong end of a misfired curse and had tumbled down a flight of stairs, knocking her unconscious and leaving her with a serious head injury. She had been in a coma for an entire week, and of course, since I was still her somewhat boyfriend I stayed at her side. But that week had been so different from the twelve days, six hours, and thirty-seven minutes that I had spent by your bedside while you were unconscious.

With Ginny, I just sat by her bed in an adjacent chair and watched her. I looked at her pale creamy skin, her endless array of freckles, and springy red curls. She looked so delicate and beautiful lying in that hospital bed, face completely relaxed; she reminded me of a princess from one of the fairy tales that I used to sneak out of my room and listen to Aunt Petunia read to Dudley. Her cherry lips were just begging to be kissed by her handsome prince, so they could runaway together and live happily ever after in the sunset. The only problem was that I knew that I wasn't her prince. I didn't have the urge, a fierce need to kiss her awake, to hold her in my arms and never let her go again. No, I no longer wanted to sit under the enchanted cherry blossoms with her—her head in my lap, as I played with her lush curls, and we poked fun at the Slytherin Quidditch team. I had spent months sleeping in that wretched tent with Ron and Hermione, watching them comfort each other and being so overcome with jealousy, that I longed to be back at Hogwarts spending lazy Saturdays with Ginny under our special tree.

But as I watched her lying in that bed, day after day, I knew that dream had been long left behind, way back in that tent with foolish thoughts of normalcy and a family. Or perhaps even further back, in a dark cupboard under the stairs where a little boy I no longer related to, wished and prayed that one day he would meet a beautiful girl and have a family of his own. Yes, in those long hours when I watched her, I learnt an awful truth that I had been hiding and denying for years, desperately wishing that it had been a foreign darkness intertwined into my soul by the Dark Lord himself.

I learnt that I was gay.

Gay.

If I hadn't been a freak before, I was most certainly one now. Even in the wizarding world, it wasn't common to be a bloke who fancied other blokes. The problem was I could no longer deny it. I could no longer label my sexuality as unimportant or irrelevant—I couldn't hide behind a war, an unstable lunatic, or even a girl who belonged to someone else. Ginny Weasley was amongst the prettiest girls in Hogwarts—so if I didn't fancy Ginny Weasley—if I couldn't picture myself fucking her—having her down on her knees in front of me, taking my cock in her mouth and sucking it dry. Well, then I knew I was in trouble, different from the other boys, and most importantly, that I was undoubtedly one hundred percent gay.

And there it was...my final and biggest secret that only one other person knew in my life. Yet, I had just shared it with you, my one time archrival. I know that I had promised that if I shared my secret with you that you would have to wake up in turn, but when it became apparent that you weren't going to wake up, I was actually relieved. At that moment, I was glad you were unconscious, glad that you would not be able to wake up and mock me because I knew that's what you would do, lash out at me with your cruel wit and sharp tongue, especially because I was leaving out one major part of the secret. I was leaving out the fact that somehow against all odds—and without even having a real conversation with you since the war—I was secretly and positively crushing on you.

Perhaps it was from spending so many hours alone in the dark, or perhaps it was because I was secluded in some small hamlet in France without laying eyes on another bloke for weeks; yet, for whatever the reason, I had lost my mind.

I, Harry James Potter, was fancying an unconscious Draco Malfoy, former rival and enemy, like mad.

It was embarrassing to admit and completely irrational because I knew that as soon as you would wake up, you would probably hex me on sight and hopefully hex my little crush right out of me. But in those twelve days, six hours, and thirty-seven minutes that I sat by your bed, I had no problem fantasising about what it would be like to have your full, pink lips around my cock—your hot mouth bobbing up and down, engulfing my hard prick and sucking it dry as I massaged my fingers through your silky blond strands.

Yes, as I sat by your bedside and gently stroked your long, elegant fingers, I imagined what they would feel like running down my back and caressing it, massaging it deeply all the way to my arsecheeks, and then slowly pushing them apart and teasing my hole with your tongue. I almost came from the thought.

When I first admitted to being gay, I used to fantasise about a faceless bloke with a hard, lean body and a mouth like a hoover. A few times, I even tried fantasising about Charlie Weasley since it turned out that I had courted the wrong Weasley and much preferred the sexy dragon tamer to the beautiful Ginevra.

But for many days after that, instead, I fantasised about a handsome, blond man with long pale hair, vibrant blue eyes, and a creamy white complexion. At the time, I thought that my fantasy resembled the fit bloke I had seen on a hoarding advert in Muggle London, but now I realise that even back then, I was subconsciously thinking about you.

I've always been obsessed with you, even back in our school days when you were the biggest prat to ever walk this planet. I've always had a bit of a temper, but usually I was able to keep my cool, control myself; I had to, living with the Dursleys and their daily abuse. Still, there was always something about you that unhinged me—something that drove me wild and unleashed an inner passion and fire that I just couldn't control. As much as I wanted to ignore you, to pretend that your insignificant pranks and cruel words were meaningless, I just couldn't. No matter what I did, where I went, I was always on the lookout for you and your goons, telling myself that I was only spying on you to decipher your evil plans, to see where you would strike next. But the truth was that without understanding the reason behind it—my reasons for following you, my reasons for watching your every movement and motive ran a lot deeper than I had ever wanted to admit. I'm not saying that I had feelings for you back then because fuck you were such an emotionless prick, still are for the most part, but although I would have rather died than admitted it then, even back at Hogwarts, I undeniably knew that you were bloody gorgeous.

You still were even in your unconscious state, lying on that bed with your pale hair tied back from your face. There must have been something inherently wrong with me because it just seemed perverse to get hard over a semi-comatose bloke; yet, that last night I stood by your bed watching your lean chest rise up and down gently, I just couldn't take it any more. I needed a release immediately, so for the first time in nights, I stopped talking to you and went back to my room instead.

: : :

I sat on my bed gazing up at the enchanted ceiling, which had been charmed to look like the Paris skyline and just stroked myself raw, imagining your gorgeous body lying fair and bathed in moonlight, writhing wantonly beneath me. I had never been with a man before, only that one time that I fooled around with Oliver Wood after attending a Quidditch match he had invited me to—but if I had any lingering doubts about my sexual orientation, that night they vanished. As I laid in that bed rubbing myself and wishing that it was your hand on my dick instead of my own, I knew that I was fucked—completely and entirely fucked—because the last thing I needed in my life was to become dizzy for the one person I couldn't have, the one person I knew would never return my affections—you—Draco fucking Malfoy.

Yet, my body betrayed me anyway, and with thoughts of silky blond hair and haunted grey eyes, I came harder than I have ever come before in my life.

To be continued...

Author's note: Thank you so much for reading and for sticking with me through these two chapters that I know weren't the most exciting. I promise that Draco wakes up in the next chapter, so no more Harry musing at Draco's bedside. However, this chapter needed to happen because for the first time, Harry is finally being honest about his feelings and sexual orientation. These couple of weeks he spent by Draco, were just as therapeutic for Harry as they were for Draco. I hope you'll still stick with me because I promise it gets better, and I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. I tried to handle Harry realizing he was gay as delicately and realistically as possible. Let me know what you think.

[7] The quote about secrets at the beginning of the chapter belongs to Judy Reene Singer. It comes from her book, Still Life with Elephant.

Until next time,

~Icicle

Review responses:

Nicola: Hello, dear. It's nice to hear from you and I'm glad you are enjoying my story. Thank you for your comment.

Unneeded: Hello again, love. I thank you for your comment for the last chapter, and I'm glad you were honest with me. I feel really bad that you thought the last chapter was as depressing as bad day time melodrama. Ouch. I hope that don't lose my most loyal reader up until now, but at times, Harry is still going to have moments when he emotionally flips out. This is a novel length story, which I stated in the first chapter. I have more than 60K words on my computer to the story and I'm still planning on editing and adding a few more chapters. Yes, Draco and Harry will have a beautiful relationship. I promise you that, but they won't just jump into it. They just have too much history to overcome, and even if Harry is starting to fancy Draco that doesn't mean that he particularly likes him. He really has no idea how Draco is going to act once he wakes up, which is why he has been having such mental anguish over it.

With this story, I really wanted to explore Harry's and eventually Draco's mental state after the war. I just can't believe that after everything that Harry went through in the books that he would be 100% mentally stable. I think he has a lot of post war trauma he has to work through and still has the lingering effects of the abuse he felt from the Dursleys. Even though he now has friends and family, the damage that the Dursley's did to him, making him feel worthless and unlovable, will not just disappear overnight. This is why, he's so conflicted over being gay and having feelings for Draco, who he is certain will react negatively. He doesn't see himself as a catch even though he most certainly is. He's come a long way, but when it comes to relationships and love, he still sees himself as that sacred little boy in the cupboard who nobody loved. Through out the summer and with Draco, Andromeda, and Teddy's help, Harry will definitely overcome this, but it's not going to be overnight. That is why the story is going to be long and their relationship slow forming. Harry still has a lot of growing up to do. I hope that makes you feel a little better about Harry's hovering and mental anguish. Draco does wake up in the next chapter and Harry will be able to interact with him and 'do' more, but it's not going to be action packed right away. I apologise for the long ramble. I was just really sad that I disappointed you with the last chapter and hope that you will still give it a chance. If not, I understand and thank you for all your lovely comments thus far.
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

You Set Fire to the Rain