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A Secondary Education	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27880 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Thank you for the incredible reviews this time around. You guys got me all motivated again!
This one's more of an emotional roller coaster than the last few. Things can't be sunshine and rainbows with Harry and Draco all the time. But it's not really that angsty, and I end on a sweet and sexy note, I think.
Keep those reviews coming! They are my creative sustenance.
Lesson 8: The Magic Button
“I’m sorry… you want to… what?”
Harry tilted his head, watching Draco’s reaction closely. “Does it surprise you? It’s not all that uncommon.”
“Really.”
“Yes. Really.”
The calm in Harry’s voice made Draco blink and stare now, rather than just splutter in indignation as he was doing before. But he was still indignant.
“How do you think men get ready for anal sex, if not by using their fingers, and sometimes other things, first?” Harry went on. “The anal passage needs to be stretched, prepared. A person can do that themselves, but often it’s the partner who does it.”
“Yes, all right.” Draco could concede that much, although he honestly hadn’t given it much thought, until now. “But you’re not going to… I mean, we agreed, you know, that you wouldn’t… be inside me.”
“You told me you didn’t want to bottom during anal sex,” Harry said in that same calm, measured tone, as if Draco were a cornered animal that could startle and run at any moment. “Which I understood. I didn’t know you wanted that to apply to all anal play.”
“I…” Draco was stymied. “I didn’t even think about it.”
Harry nodded, then put his half-consumed glass of firewhiskey on the table beside Draco’s sitting room sofa. He turned back to face Draco and clasped his hands in front of him. “All right. Well, you can take some time to think about it for yourself, obviously. I told you that we would steer clear of anything you aren’t comfortable with. But you are going to have to contend with the fact that if you want to have anal sex, even if you are exclusively a top, you do need to get comfortable around the inside of an arse.”
Draco took a sip of his whiskey. “I do understand that.”
“So, that includes fingering. It’s a good place to start, I think. We can start with me, so you can learn your way around, and, if you change your mind, I can do it to you as well, later on.”
“Why would you want to?” That was the part Draco wasn’t understanding. As a means to an end, fingering the arse made sense. Of course it needed to be prepared. But why do it otherwise?
“To make you feel good, of course,” said Harry. “Have you ever fingered a woman before?”
“Of course.”
“It’s not really a different concept.”
“But she’s got a… you know… it feels good to her because she’s got things that make her feel good.”
“Like a clitoris, for example?” Harry said, arching a brow.
Draco scowled. “I wish you’d stop doing that, you know. Filling in the blank for me when I don’t say the word.”
“And I wish you would just say the word,” Harry said, sounding a bit irritated himself. “I mean honestly, Draco, it was only a couple of weeks ago that you were begging me to bury my face in you and smell how turned on you were. You were telling me step by step how you wanted your cock sucked. I don’t understand how you can talk like that one minute and then get hung up on a word like ‘clitoris’ the next.”
“That’s in the heat of the moment!” Draco huffed. “In the throes of sex, dirty talk is just… natural. But you’re being so clinical about all of this. It ruins the mood.”
He stood up, on the pretense of getting more firewhiskey, but in truth he just needed something to do with himself. This was the first time since Draco and Harry had established their agreement that he was feeling uncomfortable in the situation. He wanted to be open, he really did, but then Harry came over and within five minutes of being settled on his sofa started talking about wanting to dig around in Draco’s arse with his fingers. It was just… unnerving. Draco had never considered having anyone even close to that part of him. It sounded like it required way more vulnerability than he was prepared for.
“When you’re learning your way around another man’s arse, a certain clinical perspective is required, at least at first.” Harry said, retrieving his own firewhiskey again. “A lot can go wrong. It’s important that you’re careful and that you know what you’re doing. That’s all I’m trying to teach you here. I’m trying to help you feel prepared, more comfortable, not less. And I can promise you, in the heat of the moment, fingering can be quite sexy and quite pleasurable.”
“How come?”
“Because of the prostate, of course.”
Draco looked at him blankly. It was a word he knew, yes. He knew it was a part of the male anatomy. But he had no idea that it had anything to do with sex.
“The prostate is a gland that can be accessed through a man’s anus,” Harry said, in much the same voice Draco imagined he used with his students. “When stimulated – you know, touched, rubbed, etc – it can make a man feel incredibly good. It’s what makes bottoming so good, so long as you have a top who knows what they’re doing.”
Draco took that in. “That’s real, what you’re talking about?”
“Of course it’s real. I wouldn’t make it up. I’m actually surprised that this is the first you’ve heard of it.”
“Well, before you, I didn’t know that many gay men, you know,” Draco said defensively, sitting back down on the sofa again. “So I had no one to tell me about it.”
“To be fair, it’s not only gay men that can get enjoyment out of their prostates. Any man can, straight, gay, bi…”
“With a woman? How?”
“Well, women have fingers too, it turns out,” Harry said drily. “And some women will even strap on a dildo and fuck their male partners in the arse that way. It’s called pegging.”
“No,” Draco said, shaking his head. “No. That’s not real.”
“It is real. I know straight men who like it quite a bit.”
“You do?” Draco knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help it. He closed his mouth, mostly so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask Harry to name names. He wondered if it was anyone he knew, like maybe Weasley or someone. That was quite an image, actually, Granger strapping on a dildo and taking Weasley from behind. The thought of it made Draco feel sort of funny… a little disturbed, but also a little… aroused. “Wouldn’t that be emasculating, letting a woman do that to you?”
Harry scoffed. “As opposed to if another man were to do it?” He stared at Draco, seeming really, genuinely annoyed now, which Draco realized was not a common look on him these days, and which he found rather troubling. “If you’ve got it in your head that liking it up the arse makes you less of a man, then you and I are going to have some real problems, Draco.” He downed the rest of his whiskey in one go and stood to get some more.
“I didn’t mean it like that, obviously,” Draco said, almost pleadingly. “Not between two men. That makes sense-“
“So you just have some serious gender hang-ups, then,” Harry said, pouring himself a generous helping of Ogden’s.
“I do not have… gender hang-ups.”
“You do, Draco,” Harry said. He turned back to the blond, his expression sober despite all the whiskey he’d been drinking. “Why else would you be talking about pegging being emasculating, unless you somehow believe that it’s only men who should be doing the penetrating, and women are just supposed to be submissive and take it? Not that I know from direct experience, but hetero sex is as diverse as gay sex, and men and women both can have all kinds of interests and tastes that don’t threaten their masculinity or femininity or whatever genderized bullshit you want to project onto them.”
Draco remained silent, although there were plenty of responses running through his head. He had thought he liked this side of Harry, the one who argued his convictions with passion, even an edge of self-righteousness. When done in defense of Draco and what he liked and needed, it was quite empowering. But Draco was seeing the other side of it now, and it did nothing but make him feel gauche and awkward, like a closed-minded, pureblood prude.
He considered simply asking Harry to leave. This conversation was not exactly getting him in the mood, and he had a feeling Harry was having a similar experience.
But then Harry turned back to him and said, softly, “Maybe I brought this up too soon. Maybe this isn’t the night to do this. I don’t want to push you.”
And there was Harry with his uncanny ability to read a situation, to determine what Draco was thinking without even looking at him. And something about that, or even just the thought of Harry leaving in general, made Draco’s chest clench with panic. He stood.
“Don’t go,” he said, approaching Harry, reaching a hand out to stroke the inside of his wrist. Harry bowed his head. “Stay, please. I promise I’ll… I just need some time to adjust. But I will. I want you here.”
“I know,” Harry replied. He lifted his head to look at Draco again. “The lesson I planned was for you to start to understand the pleasure that the prostate can bring you. I was going to show you firsthand, then have you learn how to find it on me and pleasure me. But we don’t have to do all that, if you don’t want to. We can do something else.”
“I want to do it to you,” Draco said. “I want to learn how to pleasure you in every way.”
Harry’s smile was small and cautious. “But not the other way around? You don’t want to learn how to be pleasured in every way?”
Draco didn’t know how to answer that, so he simply didn’t. He saw Harry shake his head.
“It’s all right, Draco,” he said. He stepped closer, putting a hand on Draco’s waist. “I didn’t mean… I swear I’m not trying to push you. It’s just… this is new for me too, you know? I’m used to men who’ve already been with a lot of other men. I wasn’t thinking about how you might feel-“
Draco stopped him with a light kiss to the lips. He liked how considerate Harry was, he really did. But he wasn’t sure he could handle it at the moment, on top of everything else.
“Let’s go into the bedroom,” he suggested. “And you can tell me exactly how to pleasure you.”
Harry kissed him back, and smiled into the kiss, and said, soft as a hiss, “Yes. Let’s.”
They undressed slowly, kissing a lot in between the removal of each garment. Draco was glad it wasn’t rushed; it let him ease away from the discordant conversation they were having only a few minutes ago and back into that comfortable rapport he could find so easily with Harry. So easily, in fact, that they didn’t always need to speak. Draco knew, just by the way Harry would nudge him with his hand, that he wanted help sliding the sleeves of Draco’s shirt down his arms. He knew, by the way Harry laid himself on the bed and arched his hips, that he wanted Draco to take off his pants and then kiss the soft skin of his hips while he tickled his ribs.
Perhaps it was silent communication. Or perhaps it was that Draco already knew the things that Harry liked, even if he couldn’t remember learning them. They were natural to him already.
They were both naked, finally, with Harry lying flat on his back in the bed and Draco kneeling over him, admiring him. Harry did make a point of speaking now, as Draco was trying to make it clear he wanted some instruction.
“You can play with my cock you know,” the brunet said with a lazy smile. “Hands, mouth, whatever you like. Do it as you breach me. It will help me relax.”
Draco nodded, then gripped Harry’s erection gently to show he had been listening. It wasn’t quite to full hardness yet, but as he stroked it he felt it fill even more with blood and desire, and he placed a light kiss on the side of it, to show his approval. Harry laughed.
“You’ll need lube,” he said. “You already know the incantation to conjure it, don’t you? Unless you’d rather use some you have on hand.”
Draco picked up his wand. “I know the spell.”
“Good. We’ll need that. You’ll also need to clean me, inside.”
Draco nodded, fighting a blush. This was a reality of gay sex. It would be no good to get squeamish now.
“Scourgify is too harsh for this part of a person’s body,” Harry said. “There’s another spell. Tergeo lenis. It’s much gentler, but still effective.” He took Draco by the wrist of his wand hand. “Point it directly at my opening,” he said. “And say the words.”
Draco did as he was told, feeling the magic travel through his hand and into his wand. Harry squirmed, but he was smiling.
“It always tickles a bit,” he explained. “But that’s how you know you did it right. Now you can conjure the lube, and push one finger inside me.”
Draco nodded, taking a deep breath. He conjured the slick liquid nonverbally, but in his nervousness maybe conjured a bit too much. It ran over his fingers and dripped onto the bedspread.
“It’s all right,” Harry said. “Lube is your best friend, in this situation. You can never have too much of it.”
Draco huffed a laugh, thankful to Harry’s generosity of spirit, as always. He rubbed the lube between his fingers, making sure that his index was especially coated. Then he lowered the hand, seeking out Harry’s entrance. It was not hard to find, but he paused there, nervous all over again.
Had he felt this way the first time he fingered Pansy in the prefect’s bathroom fifth year? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he had, but must have caught on quickly as the practice soon felt very natural to him. This was different.
“Go on,” Harry said.
His index finger dipped in, encountering that first ring of muscle that seemed to want to keep him out.
“You’ll have to push a bit,” Harry said. “But it’s ok. I’ll be able to relax and pull you in, once you start.”
So Draco pushed, realizing he was holding his breath, but he released it as Harry let out a long, slow sigh, and breathed in again as he felt Harry’s muscles push against him a little at first and then pull him further inside. He gasped at the strength of those muscles.
“Go deeper,” Harry encouraged. “And don’t forget to play with me.”
“Right.” Harry’s erection was flagging a little, and Draco took it in his hand, pumping it gently as he had done before. Harry let out a small sound, a half-grunt, half-moan, and closed his eyes.
“Deeper.”
Draco let the movements of his hand on Harry’s cock become automatic, returning his focus to the finger encased inside Harry.
It was surprisingly soft inside, he noticed as he pushed farther, his index finger most of the way in now. And there was so much heat. His cock rather liked the thought of that too, and Draco felt his erection stiffening in earnest. So soft, so hot, so…
“So tight,” Draco said, aware of the awe in his voice.
Harry smiled up at him, his eyes half-lidded. “Yeah,” he said. “I told you I’ve bottomed before, but it’s been a while. I’m going to need to be stretched.”
“You feel good,” Draco clarified, wanting to make sure Harry understood this. “I like the way it feels.”
“Good,” Harry said. “Then it’s time to put in another finger.”
“Are – are you sure?”
“Yes, go on. I’m relaxed. I can take it.”
Draco conjured more lube for good measure, and nodded at the approving smile Harry gave him. Then he pushed his middle finger in to join his index, surprised that the muscles gave way to him without much effort.
“Good,” Harry breathed. “Good. Now work on stretching me. Scissor your fingers.” The brunet made the motion with his own fingers, to demonstrate, though Draco knew what he meant.
He did as he was told, feeling the muscles resist him at first. But as Harry breathed his passage loosened, and Draco was finding maneuverability much easier. He began to experiment, twisting his fingers around, pumping in and out, watching Harry’s face as he did.
“That’s good, Draco,” Harry said between wanton bites of his lip. “I like that. Keep going. Fuck me with your fingers.”
Draco liked the thought of that quite a bit as well, and began moving with new confidence, probing deeper into the passage, still using the scissoring motion to continue stretching him.
Harry moaned a little and ground against Draco’s fingers. “That’s really good. If you want you can – Oh!”
He suddenly stiffened, his head thrown back and his eyes shut tight. Draco froze, panicked that he’d done something wrong, and not wanting to move again, afraid he’d hurt Harry even more by pulling out.
But then Harry turned his head and looked at Draco with a dazzling smile. “You found it,” he said. “Well done.”
Draco blinked, and it took him a moment to realize what Harry meant.
“Do it again,” Harry said. “See if you can find it again.”
I don’t know how I did the first time, he wanted to admit, but thought better of it. He would just explore some more, go deeper, see if he could –
“Yes.” Harry arched against the bed, and Draco knew he had somehow found the right spot for the second time. He didn’t know what to make of it really, since it felt the same as the rest of Harry’s arse, but as he was quite enjoying the reaction he was happy to keep going. He repeated a small movement of his fingers, a slight curl, and Harry moaned with abandon. “Draco.”
Panting through his own overwhelming desire at seeing Harry like this, Draco did it again, this time over and over, rubbing the specific spot that seemed to be the place in small circles.
Harry was writhing and mewling, gripping the bedspread and digging his heels into the mattress for purchase so he could ride Draco’s fingers.
“Fuck,” Draco said under his breath. So this was what Harry meant. He didn’t know it would be like this. He didn’t know a man could get the kind of pleasure that Harry was obviously getting right now.
Could Harry come like this? Just like this?
But Harry answered his question a second later by grabbing one of Draco’s wrists, the one lingering by Harry’s stiff, red erection, and meeting his eyes.
“I can’t take much more,” he said, his voice hoarse and breathy all at once, “without something… without…” He licked his lips. “I need my cock sucked. I need to come. Please, Draco. Please suck me.”
Draco smiled at him. How could he deny the man when he’d asked so nicely, when he was putting on such a show of being a desperate, horny mess after only some small movements of Draco’s fingers?
Draco nodded, but still took one more moment to enjoy the sight before him: the flush covering Harry from his face to his groin, the damp locks of dark hair stuck to his forehead, and his eyes, shining with unadulterated need.
I did this to him. The thought warmed him, curling like steam in his gut as he bent down and licked Harry’s cock from base to tip.
He moaned as Harry moaned. The cock was hard as granite, pulsing against Draco’s tongue. Draco took the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue as he went, knowing, from the way Harry had done this very thing to him, how good it would feel.
He tightened his lips and hollowed his cheeks, moving up and down and focusing back on the fingers that were still inside Harry. He probed around again, pumping in and out to match the bobbing of his head. He knew when he hit Harry’s prostate again, because the man bucked up into him uncontrollably, making Draco almost choke.
He felt Harry’s hand brush over his hair, as if in apology, and he placed a caressing but firm hand on the man’s hip to hold him still. Then he concentrated on finding Harry’s sweet spot again, pressing into it before rubbing it with circular motions again.
And then Harry was absolutely gone. He didn’t seem to have words anymore, only sounds: a choked sob, a whimper, and then moaning, continuous moaning that was almost like a tantric chant as Draco circled and circled his fingers and sucked and sucked Harry’s cock. The moan built until it was more like a cry, and Draco, following his instincts as he’d always been encouraged to do, pressed hard, once, with his fingers, and immediately felt cum flood his mouth.
He swallowed and lapped at it, all the while looking up at Harry and his open-mouthed, silent rapture.
He couldn’t help the pride in his smile as he loomed over Harry and Harry looked up at him, whispering, “Perfect.”
Draco bent to kiss him lightly as one of his hands came to work his own cock. But Harry grabbed him by the thigh and squeezed.
“Let me,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” Draco replied. He imagined that an orgasm as intense as Harry’s seemed to be would have worn him out.
But Harry was pulling Draco towards him, gripping the cheeks of his arse possessively.
“Like this,” he said, and lifted his head enough to take Draco into his mouth.
Draco groaned at the sensation, suddenly aware of just how turned on he was. Harry couldn’t take him deep into his throat at this angle, but it didn’t matter. He was making up for it with the quick competence of his tongue and the strength of his lips, pumping the base of Draco’s cock with one hand as his mouth worked. Draco simply gripped the headboard and watched, the sight below him spurring him closer to climax as much as the stimulation itself.
And then another hand was playing with his sac, and his perineum, and seeking out his other hotspots, and the heat was building, stirring within him, reaching that threshold and then plateauing for one still, beautiful moment before he started pulsing.
“Harry,” he breathed, cradling the brunet’s head with one hand.
Harry was doing his best to take all that Draco was feeding him, but this angle was difficult, and he pulled away before Draco’s final pulse, making Draco spurt a stream of cum up onto Harry’s jaw and the underside of his lip.
Draco hardly minded, especially with the way Harry’s tongue darted out to taste where the seed had landed. He looked wanton, properly ravished, and more beautiful than Draco had ever seen him. Which really was saying something.
“So,” Harry said, breathing heavily, “there you have it.” His face broke into a grin. “Top marks, I’d say. Wouldn’t you?”
Draco laughed, then slid his legs back, but only so could bend to kiss the man fully, not caring that he was smearing cum along both their chins.
“I’d have to agree, Professor,” he parried before going back to snogging Harry senseless.
***
Memories of that night stayed with Draco all through the rest of the week. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of remembering the way Harry lost himself at Draco’s touch or how incredibly powerful it made Draco feel to see it.
But there were other things under the surface too, things that reared their heads when Draco wasn’t indulging himself in thoughts of the feel of Harry’s arse or the taste of his cock, thoughts, memories, that became stronger and more insistent as the week went on.
And questions. Like what was it exactly that made Draco so averse to Harry fingering him? Draco thought he’d understood his own hesitation, at first. Because the idea was just so foreign, and he never thought it would be the kind of thing that would actually bring him pleasure.
Harry had proved that pleasure was possible, though. Intense pleasure. So what was stopping Draco now? What was stopping him from taking that pleasure for himself?
At first he thought the fear might be physical. It was a sensitive part of the body and Draco didn’t want to get hurt. But that wasn’t it, not really, because he had Harry to help him, and Harry would never hurt him and would stop right away if Draco didn’t like it. He trusted Harry completely, in that regard.
So was it a fear that it simply wouldn’t be good, that somehow his body was different than Harry’s or other men’s and it would simply be a letdown? No, that wasn’t it either. He was built just like any other man, and he knew that. And if anyone could find Draco’s prostate and know what to do once he found it, it would be Harry Potter: Gay Sex God.
No, it was something else. Something he didn’t particularly want to examine too closely. And yet the questions kept coming, and he couldn’t seem to stop them.
What’s holding me back?
You already know, said another voice inside him, one that he didn’t fully recognize but that sounded vaguely Slytherin, wicked and judgmental.
Getting fingered is just too gay. It’s just crossing the line, isn’t it?
Draco’s mouth twisted in disgust at that voice. He didn’t really believe that, did he? How could he, when he’d taken so readily, so enthusiastically, to sucking cock? Surely that was about the gayest thing a man could do, right? And he hadn’t even thought twice about it.
Then again, Draco had always thought of the mouth as an important tool for sex. Kissing, licking, biting, sucking. He’d done all that with his female partners as well. He’d kissed their lips and necks, he’d sucked on their nipples, he’d licked their cunts. At the end of the day, such practices weren’t all that different on a man. Yes, a cock required different techniques and the resulting orgasms were quite different as well. But not as different as Draco would have actually thought. It was about reading your partner, being creative, and, as Harry had so thoroughly taught him, remaining enthusiastic.
His arse, on the other hand, had never been a part of his sexual experience before. He’d never wanted it to be. He hadn’t considered for a moment asking Astoria to put a finger inside him, let alone a dildo.
Men don’t do that.
No, he said to the voice. That wasn’t true. He knew that already. He knew it. Plenty of men did, and it didn’t stop them from being men. Harry did it, and he was a man, through and through. A sexy, strong, confident, self-possessed man. So why couldn’t Draco be that?
Perhaps other men do it, said another voice, this one more mild, more haughty. But not Malfoy men.
Draco snorted. He knew where that voice came from. His father.
“Professor?”
Draco started and looked up from his desk. Raisie McNeal was standing in the doorway of his classroom, watching him with a timid curiosity.
“Miss McNeal,” he replied, straightening up.
“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”
“Not at all. Do come in.” In fact, at this point, he welcomed the distraction.
“You wanted me to share my research with you on the counter-effecting properties of Asphodel. I’ve made a copy of my notes for you, so you can see if I’m on the right track.”
“Excellent.” Draco took the parchment from her and looked it over. Unsurprisingly, it was all very neatly written and well organized, with clear headers for each section and the most important points emphasized. He looked over the different sections and then looked back up at her. “These are complete?”
“I-“ The girl hesitated. “Yes, sir.”
“Yet you don’t have anything here about poisons.”
She shifted nervously. “No, sir.”
“May I ask why not?”
She chewed her lip and shrugged, staring at him with wide eyes. Draco arched a brow, indicating that this wasn’t a sufficient answer.
“I suppose it makes me a bit… uncomfortable, sir.”
“Poisons do?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?” He thought he already knew why, but he wanted to hear her say it.
“Because they’re designed to hurt people, and that’s wrong,” she said, and Draco had to fight a smile at the suddenly Gryffindor-esque conviction in her voice. He had been questioning since he met her what it was that got her sorted into that house, but now he could see it. “I don’t have any interest in researching something that would hurt people. What if my research led to yet another poison being developed, another way to hurt someone? That would just be… I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”
Draco gave her a small but paternal smile. “Would you like to sit down?” he asked her, conjuring a chair behind where she stood.
“I-“ She stared at the chair. “All right.” She dropped into it and scooted it closer to the desk.
Draco leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “How many poisons are there in existence now, Miss McNeal?”
Her eyes widened again. “I don’t know the exact number. Hundreds.”
Draco nodded. “And how many of them contain Asphodel in their recipes?”
She shook her head and gave him a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, sir.”
“Because you didn’t research it.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, sir.”
“How many antidotes contain Asphodel?”
Her head snapped up again. “Antidotes?”
“That’s right.” She was looking at him blankly, so he continued. “Here’s a hint: there are a lot more antidotes that contain Asphodel than poisons.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Do you want to know why?”
She leaned forward. “Yes, sir.”
Draco really did smile now. It just couldn’t be helped. He grabbed a bit of parchment and a quill and began writing something down.
“I have a book for you to read,” he told her. “It’s exclusively about poisons and therefore in the restricted section of the library, but this note will give you permission to check it out.” He handed her the parchment, and she looked at it eagerly.
“Understanding Poisons and their Properties,” she read.
“It’s by a potioneer named Edgar Versa who has spent his entire life devoted to understanding the nature of poisons. But not for the reasons you think. Read the introductory chapters and see what he has to say. It may surprise you. There’s also an entire chapter on Asphodel and its importance with regard to antidotes. Take some notes on that and bring them to me. I think you’ll find it all very enlightening.”
She stared at the parchment a few moments longer, but finally nodded. “I will, sir,” she said, putting the note of permission safely in her bag. When she turned back to him, Draco spoke again.
“Knowledge, information, is neither good nor evil by itself, Miss McNeal,” he said. She stared at him, unblinking. “It’s only when we bring intention into it, when we start to use that knowledge for our own purposes, that we enter into questions of ethics. You should not be afraid of what you learn. You have the courage of your convictions. You will not hurt someone else by simply knowing what you know, not if you have no intention to.”
“You really believe that, sir?”
“Yes. I believe ignorance to be far more dangerous, in fact.”
She thought about that. “Or knowing part of the truth, but not all of it. Acting on only partial information. That can be dangerous as well.”
“Precisely. For example, how can we counteract a poison unless we know everything there is to know about it? Ignorance gives us nothing. Knowledge gives us everything. It gives us the tools to fight.”
She sat for a little while longer, just watching him. “Yes, sir,” she said finally. “Thank you.”
Draco nodded, then stood. “You’re very welcome. I will keep these notes and look them over, and when you have the notes on poisons and antidotes, I’ll take those as well.”
She stood too, understanding that she was being dismissed. “Thank you, sir, for everything.” She hesitated a moment longer, fingers drumming lightly on the desk. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she told him, the words coming out in a rush. “You’re a really good teacher.”
“Thank you, Miss McNeal,” Draco said, warmth filling him. “Coming from you, that means quite a lot.”
She gave him one final, embarrassed smile, then turned to go. Draco sat back down in his chair, aware that he was grinning.
It shouldn’t make him this giddy, a part of him insisted, helping young people. There was so much they didn’t know or understand, and they made so many stupid choices, obsessed over stupid, trivial things. Why should he want to help them?
But then he rolled his eyes and decided he was quite fed up with that part of him, the part of him that was always questioning his choices, nagging him about what he should be and what he should care about and what he should do. He was bloody sick of should.
Think of all the things I could be and do and feel and care about, if I gave myself the chance, if I took a bit of risk for once in my life. If I lived by my own convictions.
Ignorance gives you nothing. Knowledge gives you everything.
He was a good teacher. He had knowledge to give to his students, to help them.
And he had his own teacher, who simply wanted to help him as well. And a good teacher made all the difference.
***
Draco contacted Harry via paper dragon about a lesson the next day, and Harry agreed. Usually it was Harry initiating, but Draco thought he might be trying to give the Slytherin space to sort out what he wanted. He had good intuition about that sort of thing.
And Draco’d had plenty to sort out. He still did, really. He knew he was battling a lifetime of pureblood expectations that were continuously reinforced by his parents and his peers. There were still the remnants of an innate sense of wrongness when he thought about someone putting a finger into his arse, but he knew that wrongness wasn’t really real. It was just an opinion, and it didn’t have to belong to him if he didn’t want it to.
He came to Harry’s room at the usual time, when the castle was dark and the children had all popped off to their respective houses. He was let in quietly, greeted with a soft kiss after Harry closed the door.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the brunet said, sounding like an echo of Raisie McNeal from the day before. But Draco knew the two were glad for very different reasons, and that made him smile.
He kissed Harry back. “So am I,” he replied, though there was a searing, roiling nervousness in his gut for what he was about to do.
“What’ll you have?” Harry asked him, pulling away and making his way towards his liquor cabinet. But Draco didn’t answer, lingering by the door, and Harry turned back to him after a moment. “Draco?”
He had something to say, something important, before he could move forward. He waited until Harry was really watching him, furrowed brow and all, before he spoke.
“I know I have hang-ups. I know that. I don’t entirely know why I have them about some things but not others, but I do.”
“Draco…”
But Draco held up a hand, wanting Harry to let him finish.
“I didn’t think twice about wanting to learn how to suck a cock, or even about wanting to learn how to play with your arse. But when it comes to mine… I don’t know. I start to wonder what my friends would think and I hear my father’s voice in my head telling me that Malfoys don’t do that sort of thing and I just…” He trailed off, not sure how else to explain.
“It’s all right, Draco,” Harry said gently. “I understand.”
Draco nodded, because he did believe that Harry understood. “I’m tired of it, though. I’m tired of having hang-ups. I know they won’t all go away overnight, I know I have to work on them. But I want to. You said I was brave even though I don’t know it. I want to be brave. I want to be open. I want to let you inside me, if just with your fingers, to start, to see, to know… You said I deserve pleasure. I believe I do. I don’t want all this… rubbish in my head holding me back. I want…” He swallowed. “I want to try tonight, if… that’s all right with you.”
Harry closed the distance between them, his whole face glowing with warmth.
“You’re really rather wonderful, you know that?” he said. He put his arms gently around Draco’s waist and placed his cheek against Draco’s. “And you are brave.” Draco closed his eyes, placing hands on Harry’s upper arms. “I’m going to take very good care of you, Draco, I promise. I’m going to make you feel so good.”
Harry’s voice was like a balm, one that could find all the sore spots, Draco’s fears, insecurities, and soothe them away. And that made Draco believe him, like he had never let himself believe anyone.
“I know.” The nerves were still there, but they were calmer now, feeling more like excitement or anticipation.
“Would you like to have a drink, talk for a bit, relax?” Harry’s mouth was lingering near Draco’s, like he was nearly kissing him, and it made Draco’s jaw ache with a sudden craving.
“No,” he said. “I want you now.” Before I lose my nerve.
But that was implied, and Harry knew it. Draco could tell from his understanding smile.
“Come with me, then,” he said.
Once in Harry’s bedroom Draco undressed himself quickly. He wasn’t interested in the slow game of unwrapping each other, not this time. He thought Harry might laugh at him, make some quip about his eagerness, but he didn’t, only followed his lead, though his stripping wasn’t quite as hurried.
When he was naked Draco lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling a moment.
This will be fine, he told himself. This will be better than fine. This will be good.
The bed shifted as Harry clambered on, and Draco lifted his head to look at him.
“You’re still wearing your pants,” he commented.
Harry looked down. “Yes. I thought you might… prefer it. I thought you might be more comfortable…”
Draco stared at him.
“Perhaps I was wrong.”
“I want to see all of you,” Draco told him. “I always want to see all of you.”
Harry stared down at him, an odd expression on his face. Then he climbed off the bed and shimmied out of his underwear. Draco kept his eyes on the hanging cock, watching it start to spring to life under his gaze. He heard Harry chuckle.
“Even you staring at me turns me on,” he said. “What does that say?”
Draco looked at his face. “That we have good chemistry?”
Harry smiled and kissed his stomach. “Yes. We definitely have that.” He reached across Draco a moment, to a drawer in one of his nightstands. He extracted something, then held it up for Draco to see. It was a small tub. “My favorite lubricant. It warms easily, and should help you relax.”
Draco nodded his consent.
“That’s the most important thing, that you relax,” Harry went on, and Draco noticed his voice had gone softer and more melodic, almost as if he was trying to lull Draco into some kind of trance. Perhaps he was. Whatever it was, it was sort of working, actually. Or perhaps Draco just really liked the sound of Harry’s voice. “Breathe deeply. Let your body sink into the bed.”
“Are you trying to finger me or put me to sleep?” Draco asked him with a smile. He did feel rather relaxed, though.
Harry’s eyes glinted at him with warmth and amusement. “Hey, whatever works.”
“But if I’m asleep, I can’t enjoy what you’re going to do to me.”
“Very true,” Harry agreed. “And I’m going to make sure you enjoy it.” One lubed palm was already caressing Draco’s cock, stroking it to life. The lube was warm on his skin, and Harry’s hands were firm and confident. Draco hummed and arched, encouraging him. “Good,” Harry said to him in that same, soft voice. “Just feel what I’m doing. Just enjoy it.”
That was easy, and Draco heard himself sighing at first in pleasure, his eyes closed and his head lolling. But he was getting harder and harder, thanks to Harry’s expert hand, and the sighs were more like soft moans, after a while.
He heard Harry whisper something, and a swirling, tingling sensation filled him momentarily. He grunted in surprise.
‘It’s all right,” Harry said. A lubed finger came to caress Draco's entrance. “Just feel. Just be.”
It was a bit more difficult now, though, knowing what came next. Draco focused on his breathing, and the activity of Harry’s other hand, to get himself fully relaxed again. The finger circled around his entrance, getting him used to the touch, then it pushed in. His muscles clenched a moment in confusion, but Harry circled the finger again, then pushed a bit farther.
“Push against me, then pull,” he said.
Draco didn’t know what he meant at first. But then he thought about the words and did as he was told. He felt the resistance his muscles were giving, and then he clenched them inward and-
“Hah,” he breathed out. Harry’s finger was halfway inside him.
“Good,” Harry soothed. “Really good. How is that?”
Draco considered it, and realized it felt exactly like how one would expect it to feel, like there was a finger inside him. It wasn’t unpleasant, though it wasn’t particularly pleasurable either. “It’s fine,” he said.
“Can I keep going?”
“Yes. Keep going.”
Harry dipped further inside. Draco’s internal muscles twitched and clenched a bit at the continued intrusion, but still, it didn’t hurt. Draco let himself relax further.
“Perfect, Draco,” Harry whispered. “This is all it is, really. I’m just doing one finger tonight, all right? This is all it is.”
Draco opened his eyes, blinking up at Harry. The brunet smiled down at him. “Not so scary, right?”
Draco shook his head. “What happens now?”
“Now,” Harry said, his finger starting to move, to pump and circle, “this.”
Draco stared at him in confusion for one more moment, and then-
“Ah!”
What was that? It was like lightning had struck him, right in the center of his body, and then zipped through the rest of him. But it was good lightning.
“There it is,” Harry said quietly, almost to himself. He moved his finger some more, and the feeling struck again, stronger and longer this time.
A deep, rolling cry escaped Draco’s throat. He couldn’t believe how good that felt. He couldn’t believe that no one had told him about this before now. Why didn't men do this to themselves all the time?
“Harry!” he said, after the third pressing. “Fuck!”
“Does it feel good, Draco?” Harry’s voice had darkened considerably, making something deep and red gather in his gut.
Of course it fucking does, he wanted to say. But he only managed a strangled “Yes. Fuck yes.”
“Can I keep doing it, then?”
Draco knew Harry was teasing him, but he opened his eyes and glared anyway. “Don’t fucking stop,” he said. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”
He heard a deep chuckle, and then that mouth was too busy for laughing. It was on his cock, engulfing his throbbing erection in heat and wetness.
And there was heat inside him, too, where Harry’s finger was pushing in a rolling motion against that one, incredible spot, and Draco really thought there were fireworks bursting in front of his eyes.
Or maybe the fireworks were in his cock, or maybe behind his cock, in the deepest, buried part of him, the place that only Harry had ever touched.
And they were in his fingers and toes, too, and in his lips and tongue, and in his eyes, which were pricking and stinging, the sharpness only driving him higher, making him sob.
And then the movements of Harry's fingers sped up, and his mouth sucked harder, and Draco was simply volcanic, hottest in the parts of him that were inside Harry and the parts of Harry that were inside him, flowing, cresting, boiling magma, pounding against the surface, waiting to – waiting to – waiting to -
Erupt.
“Harry!” He was aware of that one bright, shining sound, that name. It was all he heard, and the man himself was all he saw, but what he felt…
He felt everything: intense, blinding white heat, and then floating, suspending in flight, and then a tumble down, into soft… welcoming… release.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed. It was suddenly as though the bed had engulfed him. It was suddenly as though he was a stone lighter. It was suddenly as though something he had been carrying forever, something that had a strong, strangling grip on his throat, had just let go, sliding down and away from him, slinking off into the darkness and finally setting him free. He blinked, and something wet dripped from his eyes.
He felt movement happening around him. A bedspread was being pulled out from under his sweaty back and then being draped over him, and a warm body was nestling in beside him on the bed.
Harry.
The man pulled Draco close, letting him bury his face, which he realized was streaked with moisture, in his neck. A calloused hand rubbed gently along his back.
“Worth the risk?” a voice asked in his ear.
Draco kissed Harry’s throat. “Worth everything.”
The grip on him tightened, and Draco sighed and melted into sleep.
***
Draco awoke, blinking, the next morning, wondering what was different. But all it took was a turning of the head, and he could see.
The bed wasn’t his, and there was someone else in it.
He hadn’t gone back to his rooms the night before as he was supposed to. He’d stayed, without even thinking about it.
Harry stirred next to him, and Draco simply watched and waited.
When Harry opened his eyes and saw Draco, he smiled. Then he inched closer, capturing Draco’s mouth with his.
Draco smiled too, and let himself be rolled over onto his back, Harry atop him. They kept kissing, and nothing needed to be said.
LadyShire: Thank you! It’s so gratifying to hear that. Smut is the hardest thing for me to write, since I never know if what I find sexy is what other people will find sexy. So I don’t know why I decided to write such a smutty fic this time around. I guess I just like a challenge :) Glad you’re liking it!
Gypsyheart79: Thanks! That’s quite a compliment, and a good description. I was definitely going for involved, but it did turn into something emotional too. All the Drarry smut I’ve written for this fic so far has been more emotional than I expected. I suppose I’m just a fan of the feels :)
RavenclawBabe: Wow, thanks! What kind, generous words. It means so much to see new people reading and still appreciating what I’m doing. The characters are my favorite part. They’re why I write. JK certainly created good ones, and they’re very fun to play with, but I also definitely like making them my own!
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A Secondary Education