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Together	By : CJMay Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 7388 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Together
- 1
Together
by CJ May
aka Drakon Sword
Pairing: Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy
Warnings: Slash, Angst, Lemon, Language, some Violence, Cutting, OCCness (I'm trying to keep them in character, but there are some differences for the sake of the story), slightly AU (one of the various versions - there must be millions - of Voldemort's death)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Who owns them? It ain't me, unfortunately. *pouts*
Summary: Harry is a slut and a cutter. Draco knows this, but what does he do when Harry is all alone and somewhat suicidal? Can Draco give Harry what he needs? What does Harry need?
Author's Notes: Okay. I'm going to warn you again that this is pretty ugly. Everyone has left Harry and alienates him - including Dumbledore to a degree. They fear him after his viciously killed Voldemort. Draco is the only one that seems to care.
It's a depressing fic, but most likely with a happy ending knowing me. However, it this is okay with you, go ahead and continue reading. : )
I watched as I let the glittering blade of Salazar Slytherin press against the ample flesh of the inside of my forearm, I slowly let the blade slip down beside the blue vein watching as the pale flesh of my tanned skin part to let the blood pass.
I sighed, lifting the blade and watching as the crimson tranquil liquid that held life, start to seep out of the rather deep cut quite quickly. I instantly felt relief.
Relief.
The only thing in my life that made sense.
Everything else in my life was so lost and confused that I ceased trying to figure it out by the end of fifth year - I stopped caring. I was on borrowed time and I had little to offer other than the jagged scar that tainted my forehead. I had nothing else to offer.
Well . . . other than my body.
That was what many wanted in the first place. They didn't care if I lived or died - I was famous and they wanted a piece of me. It wasn't till I was 16 that I realized this and I gave them my body. I let them do what they wanted.
I let them fuck me.
I became the Boy Who Fucked.
I heard that nickname awhile back.
For a year and a half I shared beds with every available classmate who wanted me - Seamus one night, Cho the next, Lee another and maybe the Weasley twins yesterday. It didn't matter. I didn't stop Voldemort like it was expected of me and they needed some constellation just as I needed the passing fuck to keep me going.
They wanted a piece of me and I was a teenage boy with raging hormones as I struggled under the demands of the older wizards that were foolishly believing in me. It was a fluke that one time - my mother's love. A one time thing that can't and won't ever be repeated.
Couldn't they understand that?
A foolish question, I know.
Anyway, I became a well-known slut and it wasn't hushed up in the least. Professors knew - I made it obvious with gestures and occasionally flirted with the old bats for fun (I think some were seriously considering a roll in the hay with - I probably wouldn't have refused.) - and it slowly was seeped out into all the papers about my various partners.
I had also been caught a few times. Some planned, some not. I like the thrill of being caught or doing it on some teacher's desk while they could come in at anytime. You'd be surprised how many others felt the same.
Something about the thrill of being caught gives an amazing orgasm.
I even gave Seamus a blow-job under the table in the Great Hall once. Everyone knew, or at least knew after - Seamus was good at keeping quiet and calm - but we weren't caught. Seamus loved the thrill as much as I.
Ron was laughing, impressed - we had shared a few trysts, but he didn't seem to like my new slut title - and Hermione didn't hide her disgust when I whipped the semen from my swollen, red lips. I had been with her a few times as well - sometimes with Ron - but neither seemed overly happy with my latest manner, even though they were getting some.
The rest of the Gryffindors just like taking advantage of what they could and never questioned the change. The houses were much the same - including Slytherin, who I didn't leave out. Malfoy was the only one that I never considered fucking. He was my rival. He didn't need that kind of ammo.
The professors tried talking to me and understanding why, or tried to stop me, but I never listened, or blew them off - even Dumbledore. They wouldn't understand and never would. I was happy with what I was doing and no one could tell me differently.
I'll just keep telling myself that.
Shortly after I was titled The Boy Who Fucked and was in an article in the paper, I started realizing how useless I really was and how pathetic. Fucking everything that walked just to find a place where I felt like I belonged - to be loved. Before it seemed just like depression, or something gnawing at the back of my mind. The article made it a reality and common knowledge - I was worthless. The disapproval on Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore's faces was too much, I guess. It tossed my self-loathing and hatred over the edge.
To think I could deal with Malfoy, but not them.
That's when I realized that I was punishing myself.
I realized then why I was sleeping around. I was punishing myself for not being good enough for anybody to want or love. For not being more than the scar and a boy with a nickname. Punishing myself for not being what they wanted and not able to do what they needed - not to be able to fit their expectations. I gave them myself in hope to make up for it.
In some ways I think it did.
I gave them a piece of my fame - even the slightest sliver, but it was enough for them.
I realized that the punishment wasn't enough. That I needed more. That I needed something else, but I couldn't put my finger on it and for months I ached in agony trying to figure out what I wanted and what I missing.
Then of course, Voldemort had to get stuck in the middle.
It was an epic battle - that is the biggest pile of bullshit I have ever heard. It wasn't epic! It was a fucking bloodbath as my classmates died when Voldemort attacked Hogwarts. People died - many people died, but I didn't.
Because I couldn't battle him with my wand like I had many Death Eaters that littered the floor after using the most Unforgivable Curse known to all wizards - I summoned the Sorting Hat to me hoping that the sword of Godric Gryffindor would aid me and successfully kill him like it had with Tom Riddle, who in a sense, was Voldemort.
As soon as I retrieved the sword and was preparing to fight, he summoned the Sorting Hat to him and the dagger of Salazar Slytherin was dropped in his hand which he grasped tightly which was much like the sword of Gryffindor, but shorter and had a silver hilt with emeralds instead of gold and rubies. He also quickly configured a sword for his other hand as his tucked his wand away - both us knowing that our wands were useless against each other.
It was then we battled as the others dropped like flies around us.
His followers and my own.
I hadn't been trained in swordsmanship, but the basic idea wasn't lost on me - block and try and stab him. Not much to it, but Voldemort had two blades. If I got to close while protecting myself from his sword, he could stab me with his dagger.
Unfortunately, he finally got me.
I was pressed up against him, curling my lip back in a snarl as he hissed in return - his crimson eyes gleaming. Without so much as a word or breath between us, his hand grasping the dagger of Slytherin swung up and imbedded itself in me, stabbing upward into my ribs and piercing a lung.
Time seemed to stop.
It seemed that everyone stopped and was watching us as I gasped, feeling the pain consume me as my mouth fell open in a silent scream and my eyes widened in surprise. He smirked as my strength suddenly disappeared and I slacked against him.
With a half growl, half hiss, he threw me away from him and I slammed onto the floor of the Great Hall, groaning in pain as I arched my body of the floor as my hand feebly reached for the dagger in hope of removing it as my other hand gripped the sword of Gryffindor with the grasp of a dying man.
Voldemort then kicked me in the opposite side and effectively making me loose my breath - not that I really had any to lose, however - as I spun away, coughing as blood curled at the corners of my mouth and causing more waves of pain to rush over me. Another slam in the stomach till I was on my back with the point of his sword pressed against my throat as my vision swam.
I was positive I was doomed.
I think many others believed it as well.
However, I wasn't going to give up quite yet as he boosted over me, proclaiming his victory and basically boosting his ego by prolonging my death - much like all Dark Lords like to do to their arch nemesis that usually insures their death.
I fumbled for my wand that was in my sleeve - a trick I picked up from Dumbledore and Snape. Without him noticing I was able to point my wand at him and say the curse that I had said many times before and kill him.
Of course, like before, it didn't quite kill him as he dropped his sword with a clang and dropped to his knees beside me, gasping for air as his skin took a greenish tinge as did his eyes.
I ignored him as I jumped up - ignoring the pain and only concentrating on the goal - and quickly beheaded him with a sneer and yell of victory as his head tumbled down the floor as his body fell lifelessly to the floor.
I remembered the gasps of horror - from my friends and allies as well as Voldemort's Death Eaters.
It was that day that the fear and alienation started.
I now realize that I must have looked a sight as I yanked the dagger that was in my side out. Covered in blood that wasn't only my own, waves of my power wafting off of me as the haunted look darkened my eyes to the point that they looked dangerous and murderous.
Now what do they think of their hero?
Ha!
They don't even really think of me as a hero.
Mostly because still running on the adrenalin and remembering how Voldemort had destroyed my life and many others, I took my sword and stabbed his body once more - right in the heart.
I remember when I looked up into the blue eyes of the man I respected and saw disgust, despair and disappointment as I whipped the dagger from the side of my mouth. I expected happiness, relief and joy - not . . . not that! I had killed the Dark Lord! I did what they wanted from me!
Yet they still weren't happy.
It was that day that everyone feared me. Even the professors seemed reluctant to be alone with me. Dumbledore didn't call on me any more and I didn't go to him anymore. I simply kept to myself as the pain I once knew, grew. Grew to the point that I felt myself slowly dying inside.
I hated it. I didn't understand. I didn't know what they wanted! One minute I was to kill the Dark Lord and the next they loathed me for doing it. It didn't make sense!
That's when I made my first cut.
I had kept the dagger of Slytherin for a really sick memory, I guess. It seemed fitting that I scar myself with the object that belonged to the wizard who scared me the first time and second time and the third - the list of scars goes on.
At first, the cuts were shallow and healed in a day or so. Leaving small scabs and the scar would disappear in about a week or so.
Then they progressively got deeper.
So deep that the bleeding was sometimes hard to stop.
Kind of like now.
The cut was about 5 inches long and my blood is dripping like a facet and splattering on my robes and the stone floor of the Astronomy Tower as I sat on the ledge of the balcony. It looked like I was trying to commit suicide, but I wasn't that selfish. I wasn't going to taint my mom's memory nor her life by taking my own life, but that didn't mean I wouldn't cut.
"I really wish you would stop that, Potter." I heard a voice mutter with a sigh as he came up beside me and took my arm.
I watched as he waved his wand and murmur a healing spell. The cut slowly closed and left a reddish scar as the blood still covered it. I looked up into the silver eyes that were looking down at me silently - showing none of what he was feeling.
However, I already figured it was disgust.
"I thought I'd make one last cut for Hogwarts before we leave tomorrow. Fitting don't you think, Malfoy?" I replied as he sat down beside me and was whipping the blood off my arm with a handkerchief that he pulled out of his back pocket.
He made no response as I remembered way back when he first found me.
It was during Christmas vacation which was about a month after Voldemort's death. I was out on the Astronomy Tower relieved that many people had left, but some didn't have homes to return to because their family was gone and dead because of Voldemort.
The last year both Hermione and I went to Ron's for Christmas, but this year and for all the ones to follow I wouldn't be included, nor in anything else. They all saw me as a cold-blooded killer and I had no one.
Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had died in the attack being there as Aurors.
I was alone once again.
Better to have then never have had at all, as the saying goes.
Fuck that.
Anyway, I was sitting on the ledge with my legs hanging over as I looked over the grounds, my feet swinging in the breeze feeling the freedom of flying. I causally lifted the blade of the dagger to the back of my forearm and made a cut with a practised hand.
I studied the cut, seemingly fascinated by the cut and the blood that poured of it with sluggish movements. To think that such a innocent liquid is feared by many and holds your life in its red pigment.
It was then I suddenly spun around hearing footsteps and found myself facing Draco Malfoy, my rival, who was watching me with curiosity - I think that was what was swirling in his mercury depths.
I didn't know what he was thinking anymore.
His father was killed in the attack - by my own hand, I believe - and his mother was placed in Azkaban to serve her life sentence as were many other women and men that survived the battle, but were indeed followers of the late Voldemort.
Malfoy had never approached me and for years he had been less cruel to me in the past months - even before the attack. He had made a lot of degrading comments of my new title of the Hogwarts Whore - another nickname I forgot to mention - and I didn't care. I usually just said it was because I wouldn't fuck him and he was jealous. He would always laugh and make some comment about not wanting used goods and leave.
However, there was something about his tone as he said it that bothered me.
I brushed it off at the time, but now I know why.
"What the hell do you think you are doing, Potter?" He demanded, coming forward with quick, graceful steps as he scowled at me, seeing the blood. I glared at him, pulling my arm out of his reach, noticing that his hair didn't even stray in the breeze - gotta learn the charm he used to keep his hair straight and combed.
"None of your business, Malfoy. Why don't you go away? Go back to whatever you Slytherin, Death Eater people do." I retorted, hugging my arm as he came closer - not wanting him to see. All he needed was something more to tease me about.
Soon as he said something, professors would learn and I would be happily shipped of to St. Mungo's.
That was all I needed.
That was sarcastic for all the idiots out there.
However, then I would at least have a home. Everyone feared me on the streets and I hated going to buy things. Their hands shook as they gave me change even though their voice was calm and their eyes watched my every step.
I felt like I was a Death Eater.
"Ah yes. You forget Potter that all the Death Eaters are either dead or in Azkaban. I'm a Slytherin, but not a Death Eater." Malfoy replied breezily as he leaned against the ledge as I turned my back a little more to face him.
"How could I forget?" I asked sarcastically. Snape had vouched for his favourite student, proclaiming his innocense under veritaserum. Whatever. "Your parents were. Who's to say you aren't, or weren't at least in training?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and he stared back at me impassively.
"Believe whatever you want to believe, Potter. I can't stop you and I never could. I certainly can't ask you to trust me when you don't even trust yourself." He replied, turning to face the moon and I glared at the side of his face - loathing him and his presence.
I could feel my robes soaking with blood, but couldn't heal without him seeing.
I was fucked no matter what I did.
"You better heal that, Potter. I don't want to have to save you when you pass out and fall ass over teakettle off the ledge." Malfoy said easily as if commenting on the weather. My jaw worked as I looked for a retort.
"Why don't you just kill me?" I asked, somewhat forlornly. His head snapped to look at me and I felt naked under those silver eyes that studied me with such intensity.
"Why would I want to do that, Potter?"
"I destroyed your life! I killed your parents and you have a free shot!" I exclaimed, throwing up my arms as he looked at me with an arched eyebrow. "Free for the taking, Malfoy! You can kill me for fucking up your life, or you can fuck me for fucking up your life! I welcome both, but I think I'll do better at the fucking thing considering my past at dying. Though I don't think I would even make it alive at the bottom if you pushed me!"
Malfoy said nothing as he looked at me and I could feel the blood still seeping into my robes.
With slow calculated movements as I panted from my heated speech, he reached to take my arm. I flinched and he grabbed it viciously and muttered a healing spell as he pointed his wand at the cut.
"How long?" He asked, his voice barely over a whisper and I barely heard it over the wind as he held my wrist tightly as he studied the multiple scars, causing me to lose circulation.
" . . . none of you damned business, Malfoy!" I snarled and tried to yank my arm out of his grip, but he held tight and found the dagger. He looked at it and then me as I willed him to die with my glare, but he wasn't the least bit intimated.
"The dagger of Slytherin. I willing to bet you started not long after Voldemort's death when everyone alienated you. Feeling sorry for yourself, Potter?" He mocked and I growled, snatching the dagger from his delicate hands. However, don't let that fool you - Malfoy is no slouch in the strength department.
"Do you really care?" I snarled in response, hating how he had the upper hand in the situation. I hated being outdone by him.
"It's not a question of caring, Potter. You know very well that I can simply stroll down those stairs to the Headmaster's office, tell him and you'll be shd tod to St. Mungo's before you can say "Voldemort'." His silver eyes caught mine as he glared. I tried not to twitch or show any weakness about his words and how they frightened me. "However, I haven't, have I? Not yet, anyway." Malfoy murmured, cocking an eyebrow as he lazily leaned against the ledge.
Bastard.
Complete and utter bastard.
I don't know what he wanted, but I had very little things to offer. My life and my body - that was all.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" I sighed, shaking my head as I crossed my arms, cursing every deity I knew for the position I was now in. There was no doubt that I could preform for Malfoy - he was a very sexy man - but it was the ethics of it all. He was my rival, not someone or classmate you fuck.
Then again, did I have any ethics left?
. . . . er . . .
"What do you have to offer?" Malfoy asked and I knew he was testing me. He wanted to dance with his prize and take it as far as he could. He had very good blackmail material and considering how we are - I was fucked, figuratively and soon literally.
"My life and my body. That's it and that's all." I answered, spreading my arms wide before him, telling him as much with my gestures as my words that there was not mor more - absolutely nothing.
"Hm." Malfoy grunted, smirking as he looked me over. I suspected he swung that way, but never asked.
Malfoy grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to his lips as he almost viciously kissed them. I could taste my blood seeping in our kiss where my teeth and broken my lips from the force.
I admit that I was immediately aroused and grabbed Malfoy's shoulders to steady myself as he pulled me off the ledge, the dagger clattering to the floor as I was held firmly to Malfoy's muscular, warm body. I moaned, not caring who he was any more - he was a warm, wanting body.
That was all that mattered.
"You, Potter, are a slut." Malfoy mumbled when he pulled away. His lips still brushing mine as his warm breath washed over me.
" . . . if that's new news - tell me the old." I retorted, but it lacked scathing ability with my breathlessness. He simply snorted.
"Here's my deal, Potter. I won't say boo if you become my whore and my whore alone." Malfoy murmured against my lips and I lazily looked at him in a haze of lust and desire.
Like I could deny him.
"Not that anyone wants to touch me anyway. Dumbledore will be more than happy that I'm with a Slytherin and an ex-death Eater - or at least the son of one." I muttered, closing my eyes as I collapsed into Malfoy, who was more than tall and strong enough to hold me. I purred my appreciation as he petted my hair as I pushed myself closer - asking for release.
"Dumbledore? That old nutcase? Ha! The old man is scared that you are stronger than him and barely an adult!" Malfoy proclaimed.
He never cared for Dumbledore much.
I once did.
"Ya, but he hates me now." I whispered, remembering the look in his eyes. That hurt more than any words could ever attempt. Malfoy was quiet.
"Actually, Potter -- he doesn't hate you." Malfoy replied, breezily. I couldn't help, but snap my head up to look at him. "All the disgust and disappointment you see is not at you - th it it is directed at you - he is disgusted at what the world has done to you and how he allowed it. He is more disgusted with himself. The other professors are simply afraid of you. You are the strongest wizard in the world, ya know." Malfoy continued and I was surprised by the easiness of his tone. His admittance was also unusual. He usually never gives me a compliment like that.
"That is - except for me." Malfoy finished.
I should have known.
The funny thing is, what Malfoy said was true - or at least very believable. They feared me, but Dumbledore didn't alienate me. He just - just never asked to see or talk with me anymore. We sort of avoided each other. I really didn't want to see him either.
"Do you agree with my terms?" Malfoy asked, interrupting my thoughts and realizations. He was becoming a little impatient, it seemed. I looked into his mercury eyes and say something that looked like longing and hope. I felt something tighten in my chest.
"For how long?"
"For as long as I say." Was the determined response.
What did I have to lose?
Fucking Malfoy turned me on as much as it disgusted me. He is easily the sexiest man at Hogwarts - we used to be tied for it till the last battle. I had to finish my schooling so I would at least have something to go on to have a career and future. As much as I would like it all to end, I can't let my mother's gift go to waste and to be an Auror, you need to be good at various subjects.
I needed to finish my schooling.
Thank gods I was in my last year.
"You better make a decision, Potter. I don't know how long I keep the offer up." Malfoy drawled, pulling away to fix his robes.reacreached down and picked up the dagger, playing with it in his delicate hands.
"Basically, you'll play with me for as long as you want till you toss me aside?" I asked, crossing me arms and unwilling to admit that I missed his warmth. I was bent on making this a pure business deal.
"You'll be my slut, Potter. You do what I want, when I want, how I want. In return, I say nothing and take care of you. I have enough influence that I can make sure that you are never touched outside of myself." Malfoy continued and I knew he was speaking about the alienation. I had noticed that some were getting very hostile at the loss of friends and family - I was getting all the blame since Voldemort was dead.
I bowed my head at the thought.
The anger was all redirected at me.
"I can make sure that no one hurts you, or even looks at you again. You'll be my possession and no one dares to question, or so much as breathes on a Malfoy possession." Malfoy said sternly as he took a step toward me.
"I don't do submissive, Malfoy." I growled, not looking up at him. He said nothing, so I found myself looking up at his twinkling silver eyes. He smirked.
"I know. That's what will make it much more interesting." Malfoy murmured and narrowed his eyes as he studied me. I looked away into the night sky, knowing that I really didn't have a choice, but the option was so tempting anyway.
"Yes." I hissed into the wind.
"Pardon? I didn't quite hear that." Malfoy said, cupping his ear as he looked at me. I turned my head back, knowing full fucking will that he heard me, but he was bathing in this as long as he could.
"I accept the offer, but I think it should be till graduation. Then you will be going home and I will be off on whatever career suits my fancy. Besides, you will hold nothing over me any more anyway." I held my chin high trying to look down at him, but it didn't suit me, nor was I good at it.
However, Malfoy was.
"Fine." Malfoy nodded as he touched his chin as he thought over my last request. "I believe you are correct. I will have very little need for you after graduation." He continued and turned to arch an eyebrow at me. "A rare show of intelligence, Potter."
I withheld a growl as I waited for what he wanted. I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to fuck now. Malfoy would love to fuck to sign that damned contract, so to speak. Mind you, I was up for it if ya know what I mean.
Malfoy also knew.
"However, as compelling as your offer is, tonight we shall remain untouched. It is late and tomorrow promises to be long." Draco said, with a gentle, but harsh caress on the bulge in my pants under my robes. I could hardly repress a whimper. "Bedding you should prove to be very . . . satisfying. Goodnight, Potter." Malfoy murmured, sweetly and seductively before he left in a swirl of robes that reminded me very much of Snape.
Of course, I was left to take care of my little "problem', myself. However, my thoughts barely even consid dri drifting from Malfoy. He already had me bought.
Tonight was graduation. People danced, partied and were drinking themselves into a stupor as I sat up on the balcony of the Astronomy Tower as Malfoy beside me. Tonight was our last night and I found myself already missing his sweet warmth. His moans and groans that pour from his lips like honey as I pleasure him. His meaningless -- usually anyway - dirty whispers and promises as he thrusts into my willing body.
Tomorrow I would leave it all behind.
The thought was depressing.
As much as I hated to admit it, Malfoy was the only reason I was still alive. About a week after our deal, no one even looked at me anymore - save the professors, but most of them were of speculation and curiosity. I ignored them for the most part and continued on my way, sometimes wondering if I missed something.
Malfoy had mentioned once that the professors may ignore me because they refuse to admit the mistake and feel repentant for what they did to me - what they built me up for and depended up me. Then effectively breaking me.
It made sense.
However, Malfoy's affection, lust, desire and touch also kept me alive.
At first, we fought for domination just like we always would, but as time passed we began to share freely. We accepted what was offered and gave what we liked. Malfoy often liked to show dominance over me with words and gestures outside of the bedroom, but it didn't bother me. It was a part of Malfoy and it kept me alive.
However, it was all about to end.
"What are you thinking about, Potter? Considering how often you do, it should be something pretty amazing to have you so engrossed." Malfoy mocked, titling his head as he looked at me.
"I was simply considering the future and what it held." I answered, neutrally. I wasn't a lie, not that I cared if I told the truth anymore - I may be Gryffindor, but I was just as much as Slytherin. "What do you plan, Malfoy?" I asked, turning to look at him, sincerely interested in what he had planned.
Even if it was without me.
When had I become so devoted and obsessed?
Malfoy blinked at me for a few moments before turning to the night sky with a sigh. It was a sigh not of anger, sorrow, or anything remotely like that. It was one of tiredness. He was as sick of it all - as was I.
"I honestly have no idea. I have more than enough money to keep me happy for 10 lifetimes - for 5 - but I suspect that it would be dreadfully boring. I was considering furthering my education, but I have no idea what for." Malfoy frowned and I nodded in agreement.
Where were we to go?
Did a hated ex-hero and son of an ex-Death Eater really have a place in the world?
I was beginning to believe we didn't.
"What about you, Potter? What do you have planned, The Boy Who Lived?" He asked smirking, but I saw a flicker of regret when I flinched at the nickname. I loathed it as much as he hated being labelled "Malfoy's son'.
Who said pasts and blood don't come back to haunt you?
Whoever it was should be taken outside and cursed.
"I don't have anything planned really." Malfoy snorted, not sounding surprised. I glared at him. "Well I don't! I mean, what can I do? Where can I go? I guess I could become an Auror, but I really don't want to. I've had enough with evil wizards who want to take over the world." I muttered, shaking my head.
Silence flittered between us. It wasn't really uncomfortable, but it left us to dwell on our thoughts and how lost in the world we are in. One that we don't fit in, nor will we ever.
"Here we stand stuck at impasse." Malfoy mumbled into the night sky and I sighed, unconsciously leaning toward him. I rested my head on his shoulder, wishing the world would disappear except for us.
"I wish we didn't have to part. We could stay together." I whispered, not thinking. Actually I didn't realize what I said till Malfoy jerked.
"What did you say?" He demanded, eyes narrowed to silver slits.
"Ah . . . . nothing?" I offered hopefully. Malfoy wasn't convinced and glared at me viciously. I caught it and was unwilling to back down so easily.
"You said you wish we didn't have to part and stay together. Have you fallen in love with me, Potter?" He asked mockingly, but I could hear a tinge of something else that had me studying him carefully. Something in his tone had me curious and . . . hopeful?
"You're a good fuck." I answered, not really answering the question. Malfoy caught this and pulled me right up against him.
"Did you like me taking care of you? Protecting you instead of you protecting everyone? To be owned by someone instead of being a burden? To be loved?" He asked, his voice hushed and rough. I didn't get a chance to answer.
His lips descended upon mine brutally as if he was disgusted by my touch, yet was addicted to them like a drug. I refused to return the violence as I softly moved under him. I knew that it was anger at himself and I was the likely target.
He loved me.
I loved him.
Yet neither of us would ever say the words - not yet.
Malfoy was surprised by my gentle movements and I felt him relax as he slowed the pace down. His hands pushed my robe off as he let his fingernails scratch down my skin in an exotic caress that had me gasping which he promptly took advantage of.
"Mine." Malfoy muttered against my neck as he moved down as his own robe joined mine on the ground when he shouldered it off. My white shirt was flung off as I reached under his to touch his smooth, silky skin as I titled my head back with a gasp as he suckled the pulsing vein in my neck.
"Yours." I gasped and I received a small bite of appreciation and approval of my answer.
He knew exactly where to touch and how.
I ran my hands up under Malfoy's shirt and stroked the smooth, silky skin underneath. Malfoy obliged my tugging at his shirt, lifting his arms so I could remove it fully. He stood still while I watched the moonbeams play on his pale skin, his bright mercury eyes that were sparkling and silky hair that glowed like a halo.
My angel.
I don't think so.
Malfoy was impatient and dove back to me to remove my shirt as will. My shirt slipped down my wrist that it still hung on as Malfoy kissed my nipple causing them to harden instantly.
With slow, exotic movements, Malfoy removed my pants and boxers as he kissed his way down my legs. His tongue dipping into the grooves of my muscles from Quidditch and various other physical activities - like this one - that I participated in.
"Dammit Malfoy." I growled as he avoided the erection that was paining me beyond belief. He refused to pay any attention to it and it was killing me. I heard him chuckle, but instead of touching my shaft, he stood up behind me and I felt his own bare erection pressing against my naked buttocks. I could feel the fly and fabric of his pants framing the erection, but I could care less.
"Malfoy." I hissed as a finger dipped in covered in saliva - his own. The first finger was soon joined by another and then one more as they stretched me with tenderness, but lustfully. The haze between pain and pleasure was more than apparent - or should I say, unknown.
Merlin, I loved it.
I loved him.
"Potter." Malfoy hissed as I clenched my muscles around his fingers as they retreated. Without so much as a moment passed as his fingers lift, only to be replaced by him. I moaned at the sensation of being full again. To being one with him. To being together.
To being loved.
We panted as his thrust all the way in. The pleasure was mind-boggling and I found myself turned around so I could hold onto the cold, balcony ledge as we quickly found a pace we had set months ago.
His smooth, delicate hand wrapped around my erection, covered in his own saliva as he pumped me in the opposite time as his thrust causing the pleasure to be continuous and somewhat painful.
It didn't take me long to come.
The tension built up fairly quickly and I could feel the twist of pending release build till it finally found its peak.
"Draco." I sighed, coming into his hand as he kissed my shoulder. I hear a murmured, "Harry' as I felt him come in me, hot and quick. We both leaned heavily on the ledge and I could feel the sharp, cold rocks o hot hot, sweat-slicked skin as he both relaxed.
"Amazing as always." Malfoy whispered in my ear. He turned my head to given me a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping in before leaving as he pulled himself out and away.
I turned around to watch him dress, not caring that I was naked as the day I was born. I wanted to know what that meant. What did it mean for us now? Was that a goodbye fuck? Or was that a fuck to a new beginning?
"Malfoy - ?" I started to ask as his blond head popped out of the shirt.
"Call me Draco, Harry. I think sense we are going to get into a serious relationship as two individuals, we should call each other by our first names - not surnames." Draco interrupted as he smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt. I found myself blinking at him at his words and the meaning. "It's not that hard to understand, Pott - Harry. You are coming home with me to the Malfoy Mansion, you will be my lover and together we will find a place in this world - whether anyone likes it or not." Draco sighed at my astonished face.
"Do I even get a choice in the matter?" I demanded, suddenly retreating to the age-old argument of him commanding things instead of asking.
"You want to stay together."
"But I didn't mean - I meant . . ." I stuttered looking for the right words, but my heart kept skipping at the sense that I wasn't going to lose him. This sort of commitment - Draco never had a lover over a week, outside of me, but I was more of a fuck-buddy then lover - was unheard of for Draco.
I'm already calling him "Draco' in my mind!
"Harry - no one wants us. No one, but each other. You and I are a lot alike, you know. Both feared because of our names, our power and because of that fear, we don't seem to belong anywhere. We are both alone and I think fate did it on purpose. Put us together because no one gets us, nor would they be able to handle us." Draco explained, his eyes soft as he looked at me.
I found myself speechless.
"I want you to come with me. I don't want to be alone and - and you mean something to me, Harry. I don't know what, but I'm willing to find out if you are." Draco continued and I smiled a small, sweet smile.
"Shit, Draco. You really want me to live with you and possibly have a future?" I asked and at his nod, I jumped him and proceeded to lavish him with wet kisses while he spluttered.
"Don't get to carried away, Harry! I don't promise anything, other than I will try. It should prove to be interesting if anything." Draco replied, pushing me away enough to talk as we looked into each other's eyes.
"That is more than what anyone has done for me. I've always been a burden - never wanted, but you want me. You want to share and be with me. Not because of my fame, but because I am Harry Potter - a man." I sighed, grinning goofily. I knew my hair was sticking out everywhere and looked like a fool, but Draco didn't seem to care.
"Don't make me regret it." He muttered, but was smirking. I leaned down slowly and we shared another heart-wrenching kiss.
"The press is going to love this - "The Boy Who Lived With Death Eater's Son.'" I laughed and Draco snorted.
"Get dressed. Let's go ham up our graduation party. I'm tired of hiding. If they don't like it, they can shove it up their ass and leave. You and I are going to celebrate the ending of school and the beginning of our real life." Draco proclaimed, holding out my various pieces of clothing. I quickly put them all on, half-hazardously, and took his outstretched hand.
"Our life together." I murmured, smiling.
"Hm." Draco hummed.
And together we left to start our life the right way.
~*The End*~
A/N: Second HP fic and I don't think it turned out too bad. A lot of angst, but you need quite a bit of angst to put Draco and Harry together. Their courting isn't going to be chocolate and roses if you know what I mean. Rivals tend not to even consider looking at each other like that till it's forced for one reason or another - unless the whole rivalry started because of desire, but even then there going to be a heck of a lot of angst.
Anyway, I like to know what you think. You thoughts are important. I've read to many stories where Draco was the slut and Harry - continuing his hero shit - saves him thing, so I tried it the other way. I think it was all right. *shrugs*
Ah well! R&R!
Smiles : )
CJ
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