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The Domino Effect	By : jameschick Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 28943 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Domino Effect
- 2-part 2
- 3-part 3
- 4-part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Epilogue
- 7
- 8
- 9
Part 8

It's a sign of the times, it's the ultimate crime, guilty of being caught red handed. The roll of the dice says your gonna do time, guilty of being caught red handed. - Descendents

It was nearly dawn when the portrait hole opened and an invisible presence slipped into the Gryffindor common room. It would have gone unnoticed if not for the two people who had been sitting quietly in the dark for some time now, waiting for just such a presence to arrive.
"Harry, wait," Ron said as he got to his feet. "We need to talk."
There was a rustle of fabric and then a somewhat dishevelled Harry Potter materialized by the stairs to the boys dorm.
"Ron, what are you doing up? It's nearly five thirty."
"We waited up for you, me and Hermione." Ron waved his hand, indicating the girl standing slightly behind him. "I was - we were worried about you. Dean and Seamus told us what happened earlier, that you hexed them and then ran off." Ron scratched his head, deciding to leave Malfoy out of it for the time being. "What the hell happened, Harry, where have you been?"
Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He had been hoping to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. He didn't know how to tell his best friends that he wasn't the same boy that they had befriended back in first year. That he had learned so much more about himself, his "purpose", his family and his power. How could he tell Ron that there was yet one more thing that set him aside, that made him different, that made him better than everyone else? He would lose Ron's friendship for sure.
And Hermione? How could he ever look her in the eye if he admitted that he had been raped? That he, the most powerful wizard in the world, had been captured, subdued and then defiled by a bunch of his peers? She would pity him, and he couldn't stand bear that sentiment.
He was supposed to be their saviour, how would they feel knowing how easily he had been taken? Would they lose faith in him? He wouldn�t be surprised if they did.
"I was just out walking, thinking, you know?" Harry tried to be vague but reassuring. He really didn't want to talk about this.
"No, Harry, we don't know," Ron huffed in annoyance. "You never talk to us about anything important anymore. You've been like this ever since the end of fifth year, ever since Siri-"
"Don't, Ron!" Harry cut him off. "Just... don�t. Okay? I don't want to talk about it; there's nothing to talk about, in fact. I just wanted some time alone and so I went for a walk. End of story. And now, I'm rather knackered so I'm going to bed." Harry turned away and headed up the stairs. "Goodnight, Hermione. Ron."
The two Gryffindors at the bottom of the stairs watched in silence as Harry ascended the steps and then turned to look at one another as the door of the seventh year boys� dorm closed with a soft click.
Ron blinked in shock. "Herm, what the hell just happened?"
"I don't know, Ron, but you're right about one thing. Harry is definitely keeping something from us. Something big." Hermione shook head ead sadly as she thought about what it might be... what she was pretty sure it was, in fact. Ron might have been oblivious, but Harry's rumpled state, swollen mouth, and messier-than-usual hair hadn't gone unnoticed by her. Nor had the rather livid, red, suck-mark on his throat.
~!~
After stripping down and climbing into bed, Harry lay awake staring at the ceiling in the soft, predawn light. He hadn't been lying when he told Ron and Hermione that he was knackered, but now that he was in bed, his mind was running a mile a minute. It was probably trying to process all the strange events he'd been through in the past 48 hours. The attack, the books in the Chamber of Secrets, the spells, his budding... friendship? with Malfoy.
Then there was the sex.
With Malfoy.
It wasn't like he hadn't ever noticed the blonde boy before; if there was one thing the Malfoy family had going for them besides money, it was looks. But Draco had always just been someone to look at, not touch. Harry really didn't even want to touch him, truth be told. Not until recently anyway.
There was something so refreshing about Draco. He didn't bullshit about what he wanted, or why he wanted it. The little peek Harry had taken into his mind was a revelation. Draco wanted Harry for his power, Harry knew this, but instead of trying to hide that fact, or talk his way out of it, he openly admitted it. But it wasn't the only reason Draco wanted him. The events of the past two days had changed his entire perspective. Draco now saw him, Harry, not The-Boy-Who-Lived, and he wanted him.
Harry wasn't used to people being so honest with him; his other lovers had always told him that all that "Boy-Who-Lived" crap wasn't an issue, that it had nothing to do with what they felt for him. He knew they were lying, possibly even to themselves, but he wanted to believe them, so he had. Both times, it was his fame that ended the relationship; the others just couldn't handle it. The idea of people finding about their relationship with Harry terrified them.
Draco was different in that area; he handled fame amazingly well, better than Harry himself ever would. He wasn't ashamed of wanting power, wanting to be associated with it. Maybe it was a Malfoy thing, but whatever it was, Harry liked it. Draco wanted him, and Harry had to admit that he wanted Draco in return. He needed someone he could trust, and surprisingly, Malfoy was that someone.
Then again, maybe it shouldn't have come as such a surprise. Lucius had been Voldemort's trusted advisor for years until he'd been incarcerated. Perhaps with Malfoys, all it took to gain their loyalty was power and similar beliefs. And surprisingly, he found that he was starting to embrace some of Draco's beliefs; at least, the concept behind them anyway.
After the sex, which had been incredible, they had talked for a while and Draco had explained a few things about pureblood wizard families, and the damage done to society by muggleborn prejudices. Draco had told Harry how it was muggleborns, with their stunted beliefs, who brought homophobia into the wizarding world, as well as racism, sexism, and any number of other class issues - including financial status. That if it weren't for these attitudes, the Malfoys and the Weasleys might have been allies instead of enemies. That almost every so-called Dark Lord has been called that because of his views on Muggles, and the funniest thing was that not one of them had ever been a pureblood. And what did that say about the muggleborn and half-bloods?

~Flashback~

"It's not abnormal, or whatever it is Muggles call it. Wizards and witches have never been bothered by gender issues, at least not in the past," Draco sighed and sat up. He picked up his robe from the floor and pulled out his wand. After muttering a quick cleaning spell on himself and Harry, he began to dress.
"Before the separation, before wizards had to go into hiding, it was common practise for same sex couples to get together. Then, the prejudices of the muggles began to infiltrate our way of life. The muggleborn witches and wizards stuck to their primitive beliefs; not all of them did, mind you, but enough that it caused problems. They refused to let go of their upbringing and assimilate into our culture. They believed homosexuality was wrong, it it went against nature, that it was a sin - muggle religion I believe. Those muggleborn witches and wizards married, reproduced, and raised their children to believe the same things.
"But it wasn't just sex, Harry. It was race, religion, gender, age, wealth, all these things that should have no bearing on a wizard's life, that the muggleborn have brought into our society. We are forbidden to practise our magic outside of school until we come of age because, Merlin forbid, a muggle might see it. We are so focused on money and prestige that we've lost our heritage. The only difference between my family and Weasley's is that we have wealth and they don't. It used to be that the worth of a wizard was measured on his magical ability, not his bank account. It's just another instance of muggle influence perverting wizarding society."
Harry listened to Draco talk with something akin to wonder; he could finally understand why some pureblood families felt the way they did about muggles. In fact, it sort of made sense to him as well. Hadn't he almost been expelled for using magic over the summer before fifth year? Even though he was trying to save his - and his cousin's - life at the time?
Draco, however, was on a roll, he had wanted an opportunity like this for years. To convert Harry Potter to his way of thinking would go a long way toward implementing changes in the future, especially now, in light of Harry's newfound abilities. "Did you know that there was a brief period in the last century where witches were forbidden to work outside the home? The Minister of Magic at the time was the product of a muggleborn witch and a half-blood wizard. He got it into his head that the way to solve our population problem was to enforce a ban on homosexuality, and to see that each married couple produced no less than three children!"
Draco was, by now, pacing back and forth in front of the sofa. "Can you imagine it, Harry? Enforced breeding! Like we were cattle!"
But Draco wasn't done yet. "My mother would never have survived a second pregnancy; she nearly died when I was born. Father told me that under the old laws, she would have been forced to conceive again within five years time. It would have killed her and the child, leaving Father widowed and myself without a mother. How would that help to improve the wizard world? Honestly, if you ask me, the best way to deal with muggleborn witches and wizards would be to abduct them at birth and have them raised in proper wizarding homes with wizard families."
~End Flashback~

So now, Harry found himself at somewhat of a crossroad. He had always believed that all of Draco's pureblood crap was just that - crap - but now he could see where the other boy was coming from. He sympathized with him. After all, wouldn't Tom Riddle have turned out differently had he been raised by loving magical parents instead of being brought up in a muggle orphanage? Would he himself not have had a better childhood if he'd been raised by people like the Weasleys instead of the Dursleys? Even Hermione, as smart as she was, could have benefited so much had she been brought up around magic instead of science.
Malfoy made good points, Harry had to admit. Plus, he had the most lickable hipbones Harry had ever seen.
~!~
It was too late for Draco to seek refuge with Snape by the time they'd left the Chamber, so he headed back to his dorm, figuring that his room mates would all be fast asleep, anyway. He was happy to see that he was right, and as he stripped off his clothing and changed into his pyjamas he couldn't help but reminisce over the night's activities.
Ever since he'd first heard of it back in second year, he'd dreamed about seeing the Chamber of Secrets. He had been out of his mind with jealousy when he'd heard that Potter had been down there, and worse, Weasley as well. Although, now that he knew that Weasley had been stuck babysitting that crack-pot Lockhart the whole time, he felt a whole lot better about it. Plus there was the fact that Harry had shown him Salazar's study.
He still could hardly believe it. He had been in the Chamber of Secrets, had read the personal journal of one of Hogwarts founders, had seen potions ingredients that had been banned or extinct for centuries, oh and he'd had sex with Harry Potter.
Amazing sex.
Draco climbed into bed and let the memories overtake him.

Harry's lips were slightly chapped, but oh, so soft as they brushed against his own. Draco didn't know what he had expected from the other boy, but it certainly wasn't the self-confidence that Potter put into his every move. It was obvious that Harry was no blushing virgin, much to hirprirprise. He chalked it up to being one more misconception in a rather long line of misconceptions he had had about Harry er. er.
A misconception, yes, but not, as he had learned, a disappointment. There was something to be said for skilled hands after all.
As Harry's lips left his own and trailed kisses across the column of his throat, Draco gave in to the raw power he could feel oozing from the other boy and let him have something few others could ever claim: the complete submission of a Malfoy.
It was as though Harry could read his every thought (or perhaps he had been) because as Draco relaxed, Harry bit down softly on the side of his neck and moaned.
Unlike his Quidditch strategies, where speed seemed to be the name of the game, Harry took his time exploring every inch of Draco's body, undressing him slowly and with practised ease. It crossed Draco's mind on several occasions to ask who Potter had been with, but then the other boy would do something with those skilled Seeker's hands, or that clever tongue, that drove all thoughts from his mind.

By the time Potter finished exploring, Draco had already come once and was on the brink of a repeat performance. He had never had anyone worship his body like that before, and he'd had quite a few bed-mates, of both genders. Potter was something of a mystery to him, a seventeen-year-old boy should not have had the kind of control he seemed to display with ease. Not that he was complaining.
Draco Malfoy was a "top". Sure he did bottom on occasion and found the experience to be satisfying, but in the over all scheme of things, he took - not gave. With Harry, he knew that it would be different, that he would have to submit, and he was okay with it, but he hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as he had.
As well as playing his body like a finely tuned instrument, when Harry finally took him, he'd done so with a gentleness Draco had never experienced. His every touch drove the blonde closer and closer to the edge and Draco did something he'd never done before.
He begged.
Draco Malfoy begged Harry Potter to fuck him. To make him come.
Harry, being the generous person he was, obliged.
If Draco concentrated, he could still feel Harry's lips and tongue on his hipbones. The other boy had spent an abnormally long time nibbling and sucking on them, not that Draco had complained at the time. He wasn't complaining now, even with the unsightly red blotches marring his otherwise perfect skin.
It was funny; now that Draco thought about it, he should have been embarrassed afterwards, humiliated even. But he wasn't. Instead, he had lain there on the sofa with Harry pressed up against him and he�d begun began to talk.
He told Harry things about purebloods, and how Muggles had affected their views, their way of life, and Harry had listened. He'd listened while Draco dressed, and paced, and ranted on and on about politics, and race, and sexual equality. He didn't interrupt, or leap in to defend the muggles and the mudbloods - although Draco had been careful not to use that word - and by the end, Draco felt as if he might have given Potter something to think about. Perhaps having something substantial between them could benefit them both more than they had initially realized.
~!~

p;
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The Domino Effect