Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A More Worldly Man	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10960 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Nine—A Visit from the Mother

            Draco narrowed his eyes only slightly when he realized that the person waiting for them outside the manor house was not Diggory after all. His mother stood there, her back deliberately turned, so that she could look into the distance and a wind could blow her long hair and her white robes dramatically back. Unfortunately for her, Draco had studied the weather before they entered the house and knew it must be a conjured breeze affecting her, because the air had been so still.

Besides, he had lost his susceptibility to such dramatic gestures shortly after he turned seventeen and discovered exactly how little they availed against the Dark Lord.

“Mother,” he said. Narcissa turned slowly to face him, pivoting as if she wanted to make them admire the grace with which she moved. She ended up with her back against the dark stretch of forest that enclosed the house, an effect Draco knew she had planned.

For a moment, Harry’s hand was tight on his shoulder. Draco knew it was Narcissa’s relationship to Draco affecting hm. He seemed to believe there was something special or sacred about parents, perhaps only because he had lost his at such a young age, and he didn’t like the fact that Draco was forced to oppose them.

            Draco reached up and squeezed his wrist firmly, willing Harry to remember, from the little sojourn the potion had given him in Draco’s mind, that his parents did not have that significance to him, and he could stand against them without doing himself psychic damage. He didn’t know if Harry understood the whole of the message, but the clamp of his fingers gradually relaxed.

            “Why are you here?” Draco asked, since Narcissa seemed quite willing to stand in silence for minutes on end. He didn’t like these games, and though Narcissa would no doubt think he was surrendering by admitting he could not make her speak, Draco knew he was sidestepping the playing of them altogether.

            “You know why.” Narcissa’s voice was smooth and musical and quiet. It was another effect; Draco had never heard her speak like that when she was not trying to influence someone. For the briefest moment, her eyes moved to Harry, and then back to Draco’s face, in a gesture meant to dismiss him from existence. Harry didn’t move. Draco felt a swell of pride in him, and smiled. He thought Narcissa paused a moment before speaking further, as if the smile had disconcerted her. “You still have ties to us, Draco, bonds that you cannot snap and never forsake. The same blood runs in your veins as it does in ours.” Another impressive pause.

            Draco laughed. “And the same blood runs in your veins that runs in Aunt Andromeda’s. I don’t see you hurrying to claim kinship with her.”

            Narcissa’s chin lifted. “My sister has done the unthinkable and committed a crime we cannot forgive—“

            “Marriage. Bearing a child.” Draco folded his arms and shook his head. “Strange actions to name crimes.”

            He could sense his mother’s tense surprise; one did not interrupt another in the Slytherin games his parents had taught him. One heard them to the end and met their words with a cutting retort or freezing silence, to show that one was not afraid. But Harry leaned against his back and squeezed his shoulder again, gently this time, and that was all Draco needed.

            “You have only dated someone unsuitable,” said Narcissa. “You have spoken insulting words to us, but those can be redeemed. Come home, Draco. We will give you a potions laboratory to attend to your hobbies, and you may sell the finest potions from beneath a pseudonym. Sell as many as you wish. Your father and I will not interfere.”

            “You taught me about debts too well,” Draco said calmly. “Let’s say that I believed you, and that you did in fact demand nothing more of me than living in the Manor and selling potions under another name. I would still owe you a debt because you provided me with the equipment, the money, and the space. And anyone who owes a debt to a Malfoy is devoured in the end. The only safe one is a debt of vengeance. That may be repaid.”

            His mother became colder and more beautiful still, without moving a muscle. Draco might have frozen or flinched in return, were they standing in the Manor, and had it been two years ago. But Daphne had done worse to him than his mother ever could, and they were on his own ground. He stared back, amused this time and willing to play the game because he had said all he wanted to say.

            “There was once no talk of debts between us,” Narcissa said, her voice lower and assuming the delicate ripple of distress that supposedly meant she was heartbroken. “It should be that way again. You are our child, Draco, not our debtor.”

            “There was always talk of debts,” Draco said. He would not allow his mother to rewrite reality. “You simply didn’t call them that. You reminded me constantly of what I owed to our ancestors, to the Malfoy name, to you and Father because you sometimes indulged my fondest wishes or applauded me politely when I’d done some trick. I’ve ended that system. It’s your fault if you don’t realize it’s done.”

            More freezing. Draco didn’t care. He’d long since forced himself not to care, but now the indifference was real. He would not listen to his parents, and he would not come back to the Manor. He would keep on saying that until they believed him.

            Given how stubborn Lucius and Narcissa were, however, that might well take years. Draco hoped he was prepared for them.

            Then Harry stepped around him to confront his mother, and Draco caught a glimpse of his face in passing, ferocious and determined. He felt his jumping stomach settle a bit, and he laid his head on Harry’s shoulder.

            Yes, with him I can endure.

*

            Harry thought he was beginning to understand now, after seeing the truth in Draco’s mind. There was no way you could heal a wound that didn’t want to be healed. Snape and Sirius had never wanted to heal the wound that lay between them, and so it had festered until both of them died. And Narcissa Malfoy was not yet willing to admit that anyone but she and her husband had the least idea of how to succeed in the world or be happy.

            If being happy is even something they care about. There had been no indication from Draco’s memories that it was.

            “How did you find us?” he asked Narcissa, a question he thought mattered. He would not play games because he didn’t know how to play them, but he also saw no need to stand in silence when he wanted to know this answer.

            Narcissa gave him a look that the younger Draco had perfected, a look that let Harry know he was nothing important at all. But Harry was not as young as he had been. He folded his arms and planted his feet and refused to move.

            “A tracking charm,” Narcissa said at last. Harry didn’t know what icy current of her mind had changed and made her decide to answer him, but he doubted that he really needed to know. “And I never thought to see the day when I had to use a tracking charm to find my own son.”

            “I’m sure you didn’t,” Harry said. He was no good at drawling, but he could let her hear the rancor in his voice, the way he had once showed it to Uncle Vernon. “And what did you really hope to accomplish by coming here? Did you think Draco would suddenly surrender to arguments he’s heard a dozen times before?”

            Narcissa’s voice when she answered, which didn’t happen for some moments, was as soft as snowfall. “You understand nothing, Harry Potter.” She turned and faced Draco again, holding her face in a way that showed she’d forgotten Harry’s existence. Or at least, Harry thought it was supposed to show that. He also thought it was fairly stupid of Narcissa to ignore him when he had a wand. “If you will not listen to sanity, my son, there is still another piece of reality we can offer you. Your father is willing to fund your experiments with potions. And Charlemagne Diggory is willing to offer you a position supplying those potions to the Ministry, under your own name and with your own credit. We hesitated to speak of this, because we thought you might find the idea of such—servitude—disgusting. But it will be a satisfactory solution to the problem of accommodating your desires without destroying our reputation.”

            “I’d be Diggory’s lackey,” Draco said, and yawned in his mother’s face. “I’m not interested.”

            Harry grinned, proud of Draco, and then leaned in and hugged him. Draco looked startled and mildly uncomfortable for a moment, but then he stepped back against Harry and raised an eyebrow at his mother. Harry darted a look at her and found her regarding them as she might a pig with two heads.

            Harry felt the first stirrings of pity for Narcissa Malfoy then. She could not grasp what she was looking at. To her, the emotions he and Draco expressed were not merely unfit to display in public, they simply didn’t exist.

            “And there is a third reality waiting, if you reject both of these,” Narcissa said at last. Her voice was low, as if she wanted to be sure they would listen to her. “The reality that comes when you anger your parents, when you anger the man who will be Minister.”

            “You’re threatening him,” Harry said. “Your own son. Did you foresee this day, at least?”

            “Oh, she’s done plenty of threatening before,” Draco said, and then laughed. Harry knew it was at Narcissa’s expression, the nostrils pinching shut as they had done when he first saw her at the Quidditch World Cup. “You must excuse my mother, Harry,” Draco muttered in an exaggerated whisper. “She has an allergy to honest language.”

            “Draco,” Narcissa said, and her voice was sweet and sad. “So many chances we have offered you. Are our hands to be slapped aside each time? Are our tolerances to stretch again and again, and grow thinner and finer with stretching, to encompass the intolerable?”

            “I don’t know,” Draco said. “Are they? That’s your choice to make, Mother. The greatest lie you and Father told me is that you do nothing but react to the world around you, barely letting the currents of great thoughts and events stir you from your places. But I know you strive to shape those currents as much as you can. You’re as invested in the world as I am. The only difference is that I can be open about it, and you can’t, because of reasons you can’t articulate.” He snorted. “I’ll tell you again: you can’t give me what I need, so I found someone who can.” He lifted his arm and curled his hand possessively about the back of Harry’s neck. “Maybe you’ll listen this time.”

            Narcissa turned her head back and forth for some time, regarding them as though she wanted to memorize every detail of their expressions, wands, robes, and magic. Then she Disapparated. Harry thought the air smelled cleaner with her gone.

            He sighed and nuzzled Draco’s neck. “Do you think she was telling the truth about the tracking charm?”

            “Yes,” Draco said without hesitation. “I found a note from her in my robes the night we visited the Manor. When I touched it, the charm could have been transferred from the parchment to my skin. She’s done things like that before.”

            “What a bitch,” Harry said thoughtlessly, and then blushed.

            But Draco tilted his head back and laughed, and if the laugh was slightly hysterical, Harry didn’t think he could blame him. He ran his hand up and down Draco’s side, and murmured into his neck, “Do you want to go back into the house and brew more Desire?”

            Draco looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “No. I want to secure the house and then go home.” His voice was low and intense. “I told you we were going to finish what my mother interrupted.”

            Harry froze, startled. He had known Draco would eventually want to resume their interrupted—activities—but not this soon. After all, hadn’t he yielded to Harry’s hands before because of the companionship and joy built up between them during the brewing? If they took it more slowly, wouldn’t his memories of his torture at Daphne’s hands overwhelm him?

            “Trust me,” Draco said, and pushed closer to him, so that Harry suddenly had to deal both with a warm chest pressing against his and a pair of lips speaking a few inches from his own, sending warm, soft breath raking into his mouth. “I’m ready. I’ve been waiting for this longer than I’ve been suffering from Daphne’s torture, don’t forget.”

            Harry swallowed. With the motion, he also swallowed his worry about Draco and his fear that he would do something to hurt him without even realizing it.

            He did trust Draco. He trusted him to know what was too much for him and what he was ready for, and to tell Harry to stop if fear suddenly struck him. If he didn’t have that trust, then they might as well never have taken the Legilimency potion.

            He kissed Draco, and Draco opened his mouth at once for a proper snog, murmuring contentedly in the back of his throat. It was long moments before Harry could bring himself to pull away, and in that time his fingers had dug into Draco’s hair and he’d tipped his head back so he could have greater access to his lips. It seemed his body was confident enough, whatever the doubts of his mind.

            “All right,” Harry whispered. “Just let me make sure to fetch the cauldron out and cast the proper locking spells. We can’t chance our enemies destroying this stock of Desire potion, now that they know where it is.”

            Even the mention of Diggory and his parents didn’t drive away the haze in Draco’s eyes. He just licked his lips and stepped around Harry so he was leaning his chest against Harry’s back. “Hurry,” he whispered into his ear.

            Harry shuddered and drew his wand.

*

            Draco had had better lovers than Harry, more skilled ones. He knew that the first time he kissed him. But he had never had anyone who took as much tender care with him, who brushed his hair away from his face as if it were a revelation, or paused after the loosening of each button to stare as if Draco’s skin were uniquely beautiful.

            The best part was that Harry wasn’t making a conscious effort to do so. He simply did it because that was the way he went about lovemaking, and his fingers shook with a flattering eagerness as he pulled Draco’s pants down. Draco couldn’t even feel embarrassed about the copious wetness that had already stained the pants.

            He was lying on the couch in the main room of the flat, with Harry kneeling beside him. Draco had suggested taking it to the bed, but Harry had shaken his head and pushed him back on the couch before turning directly to the undressing. Now he stared at Draco with desire in his eyes that made Draco arch his hips up, trying to aim for the hand that rested on his flank.

            Harry must have mistaken the gesture, or perhaps he had already decided on the way home from the manor house that a handjob was not enough to satisfy him. He bent his head and breathed softly over Draco’s erection.

            “Oh, please,” Draco said. He was startled for a moment, because he was a practiced and experienced lover, and speaking words in that broken tone hadn’t been part of his plans.

            Harry smiled without looking up into his face, closed his eyes, and gently took Draco into his mouth.

            Draco shuddered, less from the sensations at first than the thought of where his cock was going. He arched his hips again, and Harry moved slightly back but didn’t let him go, or choke. Then he began to swirl his tongue rapidly around and around the shaft, and Draco gripped the sides of the couch so he wouldn’t fall off, sobbing sharply.

            Harry kept his tongue moving, long past the point where Draco thought his jaw would probably begin to tire. Then he edged forwards and sucked perhaps three-quarters of the erection into his mouth. Draco squirmed and barely kept his feet from hitting the back of Harry’s neck; he had never felt this stripped before, as though Harry were taking in far more of him than the relatively small part of Draco’s body his tongue and lips cradled, and as if the swallowing had somehow removed Draco’s outer layer of skin.

            Harry began to swallow around Draco. Draco moaned aloud, and now he couldn’t help the thrusts, though he had tried to hold them back before, because he knew Harry hadn’t actually been with a man. But the swallowing went on and on, and Harry began to whisper encouragement, or so Draco imagined from the humming noise that emerged from his mouth. Draco’s heart banged once, and then his body tightened, pulling the orgasm from him and emptying him in sudden, shattering pleasure down Harry’s throat.

            The draining effect lasted far past the initial moments, so that Draco opened his eyes some time later and found himself already clean, his spent cock tucked neatly back along his leg. Harry hovered above his face, staring at him anxiously.

            “Are you all right?” he whispered.

            Draco burst out laughing, because Harry didn’t have the sense to realize that a reaction like that to orgasm was a good thing, and reached up to initiate another kiss. His mouth was only slightly bitter. Draco made a mental note to tell Harry that he didn’t need to use such astringent spells on his tongue; Draco didn’t mind the taste of himself.

            “More than all right,” he said. “Now, lie down on the couch.”

            Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and Draco wondered if he had said something that revolted him. But when Harry looked at him again, Draco realized he was simply trying to control his lust. As it was, his eyelids had dropped as if he found them too heavy to lift again, and he was scrambling at his clothes with ineffective, because shaking, fingers.



            “Let me help you,” Draco said quietly, and pushed him back to lie flat.

            Harry allowed him to help with the trousers and pants, but he was insistent on dragging his shirt off himself. Draco bit his tongue on the temptation to tell him that would only make it take longer, and contented himself with gazing at a naked Harry instead.

            Harry was more awkward than Draco had expected, with knees that seemed to have some teenage boniness to them still, and restless arms that flailed in every direction, not to mention that hair that had taken NEWT levels in chaos. But Draco found himself swallowing anyway, especially when he realized Harry was looking directly at him again, and his expression was only a bit nervous.

            The sight of him was offered up, openly, freely, to Draco, even if it did have rough edges, even if it wasn’t perfect.

            He bowed his head, still holding Harry’s gaze, and kissed the middle of his chest. Then he kissed softly down towards Harry’s groin, pausing here and there to trail his tongue whenever he found a hair. Harry made a little gasping sound each time, and his erection was soon twitching, bumping Draco’s chin gently. Draco closed his eyes as the musky scent filled his mouth, and felt a stirring of interest between his own legs. It was too soon for him to recover, however.

            Besides, he wanted to concentrate on Harry for right now.

            Finally Harry’s legs were fully open, one pressed against the back of the couch, then other dangling down so that the bottom of his foot brushed the floor. Draco leaned his cheek on one of those bony knees and gazed up at Harry, trailing his fingers back and forth over his inner thighs, everywhere but the place Harry most needed them.

            Harry stared back in determination, but then Draco’s fingers crept under his body, lingered near his entrance, and brushed forwards to touch his balls, and Harry whined. “Please,” he whispered. “No more teasing.”

            “You haven’t seen me tease yet,” Draco said, grinning, but he let his breath travel over Harry’s erection, which by now had flushed with enough blood to look painful.

            Of course, Draco still had to go slowly, and properly introduce each part of his mouth to Harry’s erection. He breathed across it, licked the head a few times, lipped at it, and let it rest in his mouth against his palate, his lips carefully covering his teeth, his head tilting back and forth so Harry could become acquainted with his cheeks. Glancing up, he wasn’t sure Harry fully appreciated what he experienced. He had one arm thrown across his eyes and one hand stuffed into his mouth, muffling his cries against the heel of his palm.

            “No, you don’t,” Draco whispered, pulling away. “Let me hear you. Let me see you.”

            For one long, tense, trembling moment, Harry kept his arms exactly where they were. Then he dropped them, and Draco stared into wide, uncertain green eyes and a quivering mouth hanging onto silence by a thread.

            Draco took Harry fully into his mouth, with a sudden swoop of his head he had learned from his first lover, an experienced man delighted to have a virgin to initiate.

            Harry cried out, then shut his mouth, then seemed to remember Draco’s dictate and cried out again. He was thrashing back and forth above the waist, but below it his legs were held stiff and unmoving; he was obviously afraid of kicking Draco. Draco smiled and let his tongue sneak gently down Harry’s cock towards the base.

            Harry said, “I don’t—oh, no—what—Draco,” and that satisfied Draco even more. He rolled his head again, then began bobbing it up and down, and watched, smug, as Harry tensed further and further, his head arching back, his body freezing. His arms were crossed on his chest at first, but they fell open and lay limply on his lap, his last defense crumbling as he gave himself up to pleasure.

            Draco puffed his cheeks out with air and sucked hard, once, and then Harry was coming, with a sob that seemed half-apology and half-ecstasy.

            “Damn, damn,” he said, and there were tears on his cheeks, and his voice was hoarse with more than the blowjob he had given. He reached down and dragged Draco into his arms even before Draco had swallowed and then into a kiss which was actively painful, given the pressure of his hands on Draco’s neck and jaw.

            Draco laughed and felt some of Harry’s come spill down his face. Harry laughed at the same time, and then spluttered from what he’d half-swallowed.

            This is what I wanted, Draco thought, as Harry closed his arms again, but this time with him inside the embrace. No control, no holding back, because that’s the same as falsehood for him. And what we have is the real thing.

*

            Thrnbrooke: Not exactly Diggory, no.

            SP777: The title is about both Draco and Harry learning to act as part of a wider world, instead of the small, exclusive ones they had been part of up until now.

            And no, I write by myself. I am rather arrogant and impatient, and like to be in full control of the story. ;) My past experiences with collaboration have not gone at all well.

            Lilith: Thanks for reviewing! And yes, Millicent will continue to surprise Harry and Draco.

            Mangacat: Thank you! Hopefully you’ll find this chapter even cuter.

            Yume111: Draco does trust Harry, but they’ll still be talking about the reason and the way he got rid of his potion later.

            The anger between Draco and Harry is a way to show that they do still have differences, that the mind-reading potion didn’t solve all their problems, and that Draco, yes, does feel sort of uncomfortable with that drugged intimacy and wanted to reassert that he’s not dependent on Harry being in perfect agreement with him to be happy.

            I hope you will think the end of this chapter also goes well.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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

A More Worldly Man