Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

19 Years and 5 Minutes Later	By : TheMightyFlynn Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58417 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters related to that series; they are JK Rowling's. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-19 Years and 5 Minutes Later
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-Ch. 36
- 37-Ch. 37
- 38-Ch. 38
- 39-Ch. 39
- 40-Ch. 40
- 41-Ch. 41
- 42-Ch. 42
- 43-Ch. 43
- 44-Ch. 44
- 45-Ch. 45
- 46-Ch. 46
- 47-Ch. 47
- 48-Ch. 48
- 49-Ch. 49
- 50-Ch. 50
- 51-Epilogue
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: @Kakashi: Yeah, I debated the wisdom of having them together in the bookstore like that, but it made more sense than the Leaky :)

Holding his breath as Ginny passed straight past his hiding spot, Harry sent up a silent thanks to whoever was listening that James had not yet managed to swipe his invisibility cloak. Having come to the decision that he had to know exactly what was going on with his wife, Harry had set aside some time in his schedule so that he could travel over to Holyhead and do some tracking work. It had involved speeding through half a weeks’ paperwork in one day, but he knew it would be worth it. When he filed for divorce, he needed to understand exactly what it was he was filing for, despite knowing that the knowledge would hurt more than help him.
Moving as silently as possible out from his hiding spot – there really weren’t that many places to hide, so he was incredibly thankful for the cloak – he followed along behind her. Ginny had about half a block on him as she moved quickly through Muggle Holyhead, her coat wrapped closely around her. He had no idea where she could be going, as there really wasn’t that much that he thought could keep her attention for very long. Sure, there was the Quidditch team, but they were part of the wizarding side of Holyhead, not the Muggle. He was so preoccupied in wondering exactly where they could be heading that he almost missed her stopping outside a small cafe.
Glancing around with her arms wrapped around her middle, Ginny was definitely waiting for someone. Harry held back, waiting from the doorway of a closed shop a few doors down for her companion to show up. Adrenalin pumped through his veins, keeping him warm despite the cold weather. Unfortunately, it also caused his heart to pound in his ears, making it difficult to hear what was being said down the street even though there wasn’t much traffic. He briefly tossed around the idea of moving closer to her, just in case she said something important to whomever it was she was waiting for, but discarded the thought the second Rhys Jamison appeared down the street to his right.
The cafe Ginny was waiting outside of was a few doors to his left, so Harry saw Rhys before Ginny did and the sight turned his blood cold. Tall, tanned and blond, Rhys was sort after by many witches. He had always been extremely private about his love-life, however, and no one had ever really been able to pinpoint a particular witch that he had been with. No one except, apparently, Harry and Rita Skeeter. Taking a moment to wonder how his life would have played out if Hermione had not been able to squash the article Skeeter had been going to write, Harry bit back a sigh. There was no point in indulging in what-ifs. He had been holding onto the hope that maybe Hermione had been mistaken, or that the supposed rumours had been just that. Still, maybe this was innocent? Maybe this was just a meeting of old colleagues? It was possible that the gossip when Ginny had first joined the club had simply been nothing more than unfounded rumours. Turning back so he could watch Ginny’s expression when she finally spotted Rhys, Harry had to wonder at himself.
Was he maybe projecting his own guilt over cheating on Ginny? Why did he care if she was cheating if he was as well? What would he do if it was plainly obvious that he was being cheated on? Biting back a sigh, he knew he could only answer one of those questions right at that moment. He cared because it was entirely possible that Ginny had never cared for him. He had thought himself in love with her for 19 years and to have that illusion shattered the way he was at the moment... His eyes closed briefly as a wave of pain hit him in the chest. He reopened them when shuffling footsteps passed him, heading towards the cafe. Stepping out and slipping down the footpath behind Rhys, Harry braced himself for the worst.
“Ginny?”
“Rhys, it’s so good to see you again!”
Harry stared as Ginny stood on her toes to kiss Rhys on the cheek, shock sending his mind numb. That was... mild. If she had been cheating on him with Rhys, wouldn’t they have greeted each other with slightly more passion? Ginny backed off from him and they moved into the cafe, sitting at the table by the window. Harry moved so that he could keep a close eye on them, confusion sweeping through him. He couldn’t have been wrong about this, could he?
Standing out on the chilly footpath for the better part of an hour while his wife sat inside and chatted with Rhys did nothing to improve Harry’s mood and he was almost twitching with nerves, guilt and anger when the two inside the cafe finally stood to say their goodbyes. Rhys paid the bill for the two of them – which Harry told himself friends did anyway – and they moved out onto the street. The wide smile that Ginny offered up as she stood staring up into Rhys’ eyes was like a punch to Harry’s gut. It was so similar to the one that she had given him on so many occasions and he had thought that it had been reserved for him only. He clutched the cloak around him tightly as they began to move back down the street again. Ginny’s hand was running light touches up and down Rhys’ arm, confusing Harry even further. Why was Ginny acting like there was something between the two of them if Rhys wasn’t reacting to her? He stopped in the doorway of another closed shop when the two of them paused on the corner.
“It’s been so good catching up with you again.”
Harry was absolutely certain there was a slightly suggestive tone to Ginny’s voice that he had never heard before. It had his blood boiling with the need to rush out and interrupt the two of them, but he held himself in check, needing to know exactly what was happening. Ginny’s hand stilled on Rhys’ arm, squeezing his bicep as she stood on her toes again. Harry figured she may have been using him as balance so she could kiss him on the cheek again, but this time, their lips connected. Standing there covered in the invisibility cloak, almost shivering from the cold, Harry knew he was witnessing the proof that he needed that his wife was cheating on him, but he was so numb with shock that he simply couldn’t move. He stood frozen until they broke apart, Ginny running her hand along Rhys’ arm again.
“I – uh – I’ll see you later, Gin.”
Harry frowned, watching as Rhys moved off down the street. That was not the reaction of a man who had just departed from the woman he was seeing. Judging from Ginny’s reaction – sighing slightly before turning to stomp off in the opposite direction – it had not been the reaction she had been hoping for. He debated silently which one of them to follow, but figured he would get a straighter answer from Rhys. Stretching his legs to catch up, Harry only just managed to slip inside the door of the block of flats as it was swinging closed. Taking a deep breath, he hauled the cloak off and faced the man who had made a fool of him.
“Harry! What –” The exclamation was cut off as Harry advanced on him, his wand dropping down into his hand with a flick of his wrist. “Now, hang on a second, I can explain.”
“How long have you been fucking my wife?” The words were snarled, his voice unrecognisable.
“I’m not, I –”
“Don’t lie to me!” Sparks flew from the end of Harry’s wand as he flicked it out to the side, still advancing slowly. He had not lost control over his magic like this in many years, but it actually felt good to release some of the tension.
“I’m not, I swear! Ginny and I haven’t been together for years, I swear!” Rhys gasped as his knees came into contact with a small side table in the foyer and he fell backwards, landing on his arse on the tiles. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Holding onto his control by his fingertips, Harry snarled as he stood over the other man, his wand hand shaking. “Talk. You have two minutes.”
“I was with Ginny, but it was only for six months and it ended years ago. She... she told me that your marriage was on the rocks, that she was going to leave because you weren’t compatible.”
“When?”
“2002. She said that you two had never really been properly compatible and that she was going to file for divorce. But it never happened. Then Rita Skeeter caught us and I thought it was all over. I don’t know how she managed to suppress the article Skeeter was going to write, but I never saw one. We continued on until she apparently got sick of me and left. It was only six months 15 years ago, I swear.”
Rhys was speaking quickly, almost as though he was absolutely convinced that at the end of the two minutes Harry had given him, he would be hexed senseless. A triumphant rush of power coursed through Harry’s veins as he stood over him. This was how people were supposed to react to him when he was angry, not by challenging him. The triumph faded quickly when the reality of what Rhys was telling him sunk in, to be replaced with a nausea that almost overwhelmed him. He allowed his wand to drop to his side and he looked away, not wanting Rhys to see his face.
“You came to our children’s birthday parties.”
He had no idea where that had come from, but it struck him as a betrayal of the worst kind. His chest constricted at the idea that it had been Ginny’s suggestion to invite the entire Harpies team, including the owner. To his children’s birthday parties. He turned and took a few steps towards the exit before glancing back over his shoulder.
“Who is she with now?”
“No one. That’s why she wanted to see me today.” The sympathy in Rhys’ voice grated at Harry’s nerves. “I am so sorry, Harry. I turned her down, but I have no idea who she’ll go to next.”
Staring at the other man sitting on the cold tiles, Harry saw truth in his eyes. There was no way he would have reacted the way he had to Ginny if they were seeing each other and, judging by the fear in his eyes only moments before, there was no way he could lie to Harry. He nodded his head sharply after bending to pick up the cloak from where he had dropped it on the floor. The soft sigh of relief he heard behind him ground his already straining control to pieces and he flicked his wand behind him. A sharp shriek, followed by the sound of Rhys falling again was the only way Harry had of telling that the stinging jinx he had cast behind him had hit as he left the lobby of the block of flats.
*~*
Draco scowled when yet another Ministry worker bee stumbled into his path. He knew he would always be thankful that he had not followed his father’s wishes and joined the monotonous rabble milling around doing Merlin-only-knows-what at a harried pace. No, working for himself at his own pace was much more his style these days, as his tolerance of other people had diminished severely as he had aged. As enthralling as a career working for the higher-ups must have been at some point, Draco simply didn’t see the appeal in today’s climate. There was no war to profit from – Potter had seen to that nicely and Draco would be forever grateful for it, even if he would never admit to it – and no real political challengers. Shacklebolt had things nicely in hand and no one really wanted that to change for the time being. He pushed the thoughts aside as he rounded the corner and the reception desk of the Auror Department came into view.
“Where’s Potter?”
The receptionist looked up at him, obviously startled, before gathering what little wits she apparently possessed and putting on an aloof air, despite the flare of intense interest he had seen in her eyes. “Head Auror Potter only got back in about half an hour ago, Mr. Malfoy. He is in his office and does not wish to be disturbed.”
It was the iciness to her tone that set Draco off more than anything else. “Potter’s already disturbed; my presence isn’t going to affect that in any way.”
Draco turned sharply and stalked off down the corridor again, ignoring her calls to him. He had had an incredibly frustrating day and there was nothing that was going to stop him from taking Potter up on his offer. His body needed release – he could feel the tension creeping along his shoulders as he moved – and if Potter was willing to offer that release, then there was no way Draco would turn that down. It was surprising to him that he had been able to readjust his thinking about Potter in such a small amount of time. Usually, he would have taken a number of weeks to mull over such an important decision, but it seemed that Potter’s obvious enthusiasm for him had taken the decision out of his hands. For that is the only way he could think to describe Potter’s reactions to him: enthusiastic. He broke the privacy charms on the door with a few choice spells – ones that he was sure if any of the Aurors had heard, he would have been apprehended right there and then – and moved into the office.
When he was not immediately hit by a number of curses for invading Potter’s privacy, he glanced around the room. The empty room. His frustration building, Draco scanned the walls, looking for an entrance to another room. He knew there had to be one, as Potter wouldn’t have bothered to ward an empty room so thoroughly. He was about to start randomly sending out revealing spells when he noticed a tiny, thin trail of steam wafting out from under a filing cabinet. Grasping onto the top of the cabinet, he pulled, his eyes widening when it revealed a private bathroom. The steam emanating from within posed a delicious scenario as Draco closed the hidden door behind him.
He found Potter in the shower stall, his head resting on his folded arms on the tiled wall. Taking a few moments to simply admire the angles of Potter’s body, Draco could feel his own body reacting to the visual stimulus almost immediately. Shower sex had always been a particular favourite of his and the prospect of being allowed to engage in it with Potter... Well, his breathing increased with the pace of his now rapidly beating heart.
It was not until he truly looked at Potter that he realised that something appeared to be strange. The angle Potter held himself at did not indicate that he was enjoying the spray of the water over his back at all; rather that that was how he had landed in the shower and it was just by chance that the spray was hitting him. When Draco ran his eyes up Potter’s back, he took note of the tension in his shoulders, which led him to seeing the clenching of Potter’s fists against the wall. Biting back a sigh, Draco knew he had a decision to make.
Either he could run the risk of simply barging in and get his arse kicked again, or he could try to discover exactly what was bothering Potter so much. The second avenue would definitely be the least painful option – he had ached for days after their first and second encounters – and followed along with the slightly more personal tone Potter had set earlier in the week at the bookstore. The first option, however, would keep the emotional distance that Draco had kept from all of his previous partners. A tiny voice in the back of his mind put forth the nagging idea that he really didn’t want to keep that distance from Potter; that he really wanted a proper relationship with him. The fact that the voice sounded vaguely like his nosy wife caused Draco to scowl as he flumped down onto a bench.
“Your receptionist is a bitch.”
“She’s also apparently incompetent.”
Potter’s voice was low and he sounded bone-achingly tired. Draco knew he had made the right decision, despite his own desperate need. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the cool tiles behind him, content in the knowledge that Potter’s first instinct had not been to hex him. Stretching his arms along the back of the bench, his lips curved into a small smile. Perhaps Astoria had been right when she had demanded that he get out of the house that afternoon: perhaps Potter would prove good for him in some small way.
“Maybe,” he granted, the smile widening little. “But she did try to stop me, which is more than I can say about the first lot when I was here last. All I really had to do to get past them was glare.”
“So nice to know my Aurors are such pushovers.” The sarcasm would have made Draco angry years ago, but now he just brushed it off, much preferring it to the anger they had both been displaying a few weeks before. “Why are you here?”
Draco paused, debating how to answer. “Was that really your first blowjob the other day?”
“Why do you care?”
I would like to be your first in something. “I don’t.”
“Bullshit.” The voice was much closer now and Draco’s eyes flew open just in time for him to wind up with a lapful of dripping wet Potter. “You do care, or else you wouldn’t have asked.”
Any answer Draco was going to make was swallowed as Potter pressed their lips together. There was a slight desperation to Potter’s movements as Draco ran his hands down his sides. The feel of the strong muscles beneath his fingers had Draco hardening in his trousers further and he had to bite back a moan as Potter rocked his hips. He deepened the kiss when Potter’s mouth opened slightly, revelling in the faint taste of chamomile tea again. It struck him as odd that Potter would prefer chamomile over something like coffee, as that seemed to be the beverage of choice for so many of his colleagues.
“Draco...” Potter murmured against his lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “You should smile more; it suits you.”
With that, he was out of Draco’s lap and wandering back to the still-running shower. It was a few seconds before Draco could react in any way other than pants of desire. When he did, it was with the full force of the frustrated desire that had built up in him swiftly with the brief kiss.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He scowled again at the responding chuckle he received.
“It’d be a shame to waste all of this wonderfully hot water, wouldn’t it?” The suggestive tone to Potter’s voice had Draco’s breath hitching slightly. “Of course, you could wait for me to finish...”
Draco was already halfway undressed before Potter had even finished the sentence. The prospect of having Potter pressed up against him, hot and wet, was causing his head to swim slightly as he quickly stripped the rest of his clothing off and spelled it over to the bench with a flick of his wand. The wand quickly followed before he made his way around into the shower stall. Potter was standing with his head resting on his forearms again, his back to Draco. Stepping into the spray, Draco ran a hand up Potter’s spine, enjoying the resulting shiver.
“Potter...”
“Harry. You’ve been inside me; I think that qualifies as permission enough to use my first name.”
Staring down at the flow of the water over the muscles of Potter’s back, Draco had to wonder how he had managed to get in so deep so soon. He had never before allowed himself this kind of intimacy with anyone else, but Potter was so open, so honest, so... welcoming that he couldn’t resist the tug to be near him again. Putting aside the worry as Potter – Harry – glanced back over his shoulder, Draco knew he would over examine it the second he had a few free minutes.
“Harry,” he murmured into Potter’s ear as he moulded their bodies together. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
The responding appreciative hum and grinding of Potter’s hips back against him fed Draco’s desire as he ran his hands over the well-toned chest and down to brush against Potter’s thighs. He nipped at Potter’s neck and thrust his hips forward as he spread Potter’s legs, getting him into the easiest position for the both of them. The clean, sharp scent of soap filled Draco’s senses as he continued to run his hands all over Potter’s slick body. He was already familiar with the taste of Potter’s skin and – after their encounter over the weekend – his cum, but it was something else that Draco now craved. He had no idea how Potter would react, so he gave no indication that he was about to do anything other than prepare him and fuck him. Dropping to his knees when Potter was moaning with each breath, Draco gripped Potter’s cheeks firmly and leant in to run his tongue up his water-slicked arse.
“What the fu – what are you doing?”
Draco chuckled as Potter squirmed in front of him, bucking his hips away from Draco’s face. “You wished to be familiar with all aspects of gay sex, Potter. Here’s your next lesson: there are more ways of preparing someone than the standard spell. Many men like to be able to taste their partners in as many ways as possible, me included.”
“‘Taste’? You want to...? With your tongue?” The incredulity in Potter’s voice had Draco chuckling against the small of his back again. “Really?”
“Yes, really. If you don’t want me to, then you’d better tell me now.” Draco held his breath, hoping that Potter wouldn’t deny him anything.
“I... Ok.”
When there was nothing else said, Draco began slowly massaging his fingers into the soft flesh of Potter’s arse. The fact that Potter was nervous about this automatically caused Draco to slow his movements, allowing him to get used to the idea. There was a definite tension to Potter’s stance that Draco knew he had to get rid of, so he dipped his head and began to nibble at the top of one of Potter’s thighs. The resulting sigh and spreading of Potter’s legs sent a thrill of desire through Draco’s stomach again. Potter responded beautifully to him, there was no doubt about that.
“Draco?”
“Mmm?” He moved upwards slightly, enjoying the small gasps Potter gave with each breath.
“Why me?”
Draco froze, not knowing how to respond. His mind worked fast, filtering all the possible answers he could give down to just two. Either he could tell Potter the truth – that he had wanted him for years – or he could lie and make out like he had been horny and Potter had just wound up being there at the right time. The decision was once again taken from him when Potter spun around and pulled him to his feet by his hair.
“I want the truth; I don’t care if you think it’ll hurt.”
There was something deep in those slightly unfocussed eyes as Potter blinked to bring Draco into focus without his glasses that told Draco that lying at this point would be a very bad decision. Taking a deep breath, he moved closer, allowing Potter to focus on him properly. Nerves fluttered through his stomach, mixing swiftly with the raging desire. If Potter could admit that he wanted Draco, then the very least Draco could do was return the favour.
“I’ve wanted you since fifth year. I never thought I’d have the chance to be with you, though, since I thought you were straight.” He paused, he heart beating wildly as he waited for Potter’s response.
“So did I.”
Draco’s breath left him again as Potter dragged him into a heated kiss, their tongues battling for dominance. All thoughts of continuing with the ridiculous ‘lesson’ faded from Draco’s mind as he pressed closer. Potter was hot and wet and willing and everything Draco had needed for so long that all he wanted to do was sink into him and lose himself for a while. The kiss was broken long enough so that Potter could mumble the preparation and lubrication charms before connecting their lips again. Draco was obviously being given the choice of how this would go, even if he hadn’t been allowed his method of preparation. Taking the easy route, he spun Potter around, pressing as close as he could get from behind.
“Harry,” he whispered into Potter’s ear, enjoying the sound of Potter’s name coming from his lips.
“Please...”
Unable to resist the tone to Potter’s voice, Draco pressed forward, breaching him slowly. His eyes drifted closed as he sank easily into Potter’s willing body, the spells making the movement as easy as he could ever want. He stilled as soon as he was seated completely, giving Potter time to adjust to him. The slight moans Potter had been giving earlier had returned to his breathing pattern, sending pleasurable jolts through Draco’s stomach. It took slightly less time for Potter to squeeze around him this time, obviously indicating that he wanted Draco to move and Draco was more than willing. Pulling out and thrusting back in earned Draco a deep groan, encouraging him onwards. He fell into an easy rhythm for a few minutes, simply enjoying the sensations flowing through him. It wasn’t until he heard a slight change in Potter’s breathing that he decided to change things up a bit. As much fun as seeing Potter bent before him was, Draco was coming to crave that slightest bit more from this.
Reaching around, he wrapped both arms around Potter’s chest. With a slight tug, he pulled Potter up against him, his back to Draco’s chest. The new angle caused Draco to slide against Potter’s prostate. He slowed his thrusts, dragging the head of his cock along the tight knot of nerves a couple of times. The slower pace helped him as well, as he knew that he was beginning to dance dangerously close to the edge. It was here, also, that Draco’s tiny height advantage came into play. Potter’s head fell back against Draco’s shoulder, his breath coming in sharp gasps as his hips jerked of their own volition and it gave Draco the perfect angle. Dipping his head, he licked a stripe along the back of Potter’s left ear. As he had known it would, the move caused Potter to buck, yelling out hoarsely as he came in hot spurts. Draco couldn’t hold on against the waves of desire and want and desperate need when they were combined with the spasming of Potter’s muscles around his throbbing cock and he let go. The almost painful jabs of lust that shot through him as he came had Draco cursing as he came before he bit down on Potter’s shoulder in an attempt to hold onto a slight amount of dignity. Still clutching Potter to his chest, Draco slid to the floor of the shower, completely spent.
He had no idea how long he was out for, but Draco woke to the sound of Potter’s voice. Opening his eyes, he saw that Potter hadn’t moved; that he was still in Draco’s lap, his head resting back on Draco’s shoulder.
“Draco?” Potter was still breathless, the sound sending warm shivers through Draco’s stomach.
“Mmm?” He didn’t trust his own voice at the moment.
“I...” Potter stopped and sighed, obviously changing his mind about what he was going to say. “When will I see you next?”
“No more than a few days.” He knew that with his crumbling control, a few days was probably the longest he could last before giving in to the urge to see him again. Draco smiled as Potter hummed in appreciation. Yes, he was definitely in trouble with this one.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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19 Years and 5 Minutes Later