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The Golden One	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3405 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Golden One
- 1
Title: The Golden
One

Disclaimer: J. K.
Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun
and not profit.

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Rating: R

Warnings:
Sex, fluff, profanity. Ignores the epilogue.

Wordcount: �4000

Summary: Draco is, finally, ready to give himself to Harry.

Author�s Notes: This is the fourth fic in my �Seasonal Processions� series,
and the direct sequel to �Cue the Sun.� This fic is for Lammas/Lughnasadh. Reading the other fics
up to this point is probably required for it to make sense.

The Golden One

�� Most of
July had been stormy, but the last three days had been perfect, Draco thought:
close and hot and golden. When he looked up from his work, he saw the enchanted
window in his office, gazing straight at the view he had chosen weeks ago. The
cornfield in the window swayed back and forth, the corn full and heavy, the
wind visible in the way it ruffled their sheaves.

�� Draco could
feel his body settling and changing and ripening with the weather, with the
world, spinning towards an inevitable conclusion.

�� He thought
he knew what that conclusion was, but he didn�t rush or hurry it, letting it
rise from the depths of his mind on its own. His family didn�t have as close a
connection with the old holiday of Lughnasadh as with
Beltane, or as many private ceremonies, but Draco thought he would know by
then. ��

And he did. He knew, actually, when
the sun rose on the thirty-first of July, the birthday of Harry Potter, his
boyfriend and his lover, but he ignored the conclusion for the moment and
simply gave Harry a book on elementary potions knowledge and a set of pale grey
robes for his birthday. He would put his decision into action tomorrow.

Some traditions should be kept.

*

�� Draco
knocked on Harry�s door promptly at sunrise, and grinned at the lingering yawn that came from the direction of the bedroom. Harry had asked
for the thirty-first and then the first of August as holidays�a good decision,
given the way the party with the Weasleys had gone and then the private party
he and Draco had had when they got back to his house. Draco had taken the day
off as well.

�� It was the
first of August, the traditional date for Lughnasadh,
and time for him to make his decision real.

�� Harry took
ten minutes to come to the door. Draco helpfully started every minute with a
knock, and then celebrated the ninth with such a storm of pounding that he
could barely hear Harry�s curses before he actually arrived. He jumped back
just in time when Harry swung the door open and glared at him through
sleep-glazed eyes.

�� Draco felt
his mouth become dryer than it already was. Harry hadn�t bothered to put on a
shirt. His chest was brilliant with the flush of sleep, he was breathing
shallowly, and Draco could see almost every dark hair.

�� He lifted
his eyes to Harry�s face, and waited patiently for him to recognize who was
here and how unusual it was for Draco to come somewhere on his own, without
Harry having to coax him along first. Draco had been ignored and stepped on for
years by the victorious anti-purebloods. It had taken Harry to give him back
his strength and confidence, and since they had officially become lovers on
Midsummer�s Eve, this was the first time Draco had tried to initiate anything.

�� It takes time,
he thought defensively to silence the derisive chuckle in the back of his head.
He could conjure up the chuckle all too easily now, given how many times he had
heard it over the years. He carried his enemies� voices around with him, while
he sincerely doubted they ever heard his.

�� Draco?�
Harry murmured. �Is something wrong?�

�� Draco shook
his head and leaned forwards for a kiss, though he prudently cast a
Breath-Sweetening Charm first. Harry responded enthusiastically to that, at
least, fisting his hands in Draco�s hair and robes. Draco broke away before the
fragile thing he held crumbled and held it up so that Harry could see it.

�� Do you
know what this is?� he asked.

�� Harry still
had trouble focusing his eyes, and Draco proudly imagined that that was
partially because of the kiss, rather than just because of sleep. �It looks
like a little man made out of bread,� Harry said at last, his voice confused.

�� Draco
nodded and grabbed his hand. �Exactly. This is Lughnasadh, and we�re going to fulfill tradition.�

�� By�baking people?� Harry sounded cautious.

�� Draco
laughed, and stopped when he heard the laughter getting shrill. He would lose
his nerve and bolt if he wasn�t careful. But no, he wanted this. What he needed
was just to make sure that he controlled the exchange as much as possible, and
that Harry did what Draco directed him to. That would soothe his fear about
surrendering control and then once again being spurned and mocked.

�� No,� he
said, and tugged on Harry�s hand. �Come on.�

*

�� They stood
behind Harry�s house, in the small patch of smooth grass that Harry owned.
Draco would have worried about being out in public with a half-naked Harry
Potter, but strong privacy wards protected the whole property. Draco was glad.
He didn�t want the press intruding until he and Harry were good and ready for
them.

�� Sometimes
he wondered if he ever would be.

�� He shook
that thought away for the minute and turned Harry to face the sunrise. Harry
squinted obediently into it and muttered something about how no one had told him that Lughnasadh
was for baking people.

�� This is
the sacrifice,� Draco said, and held up the man of bread. �Different families
and different people have different traditions, but in my family, we break him
up, feed him to the wind and the animals, and cast one specific problem off
with him. What do you hate more than anything right now? What do you want to
get rid of?�

�� Harry shut
his eyes and held his breath. Draco stared, fascinated, at his face, at the
lightning bolt scar and the dark fan of eyelashes.

�� Then Harry
opened his eyes and said, �The way people treat you.�

�� Draco had
to blink quickly and look at the ground as something apparently stuck in his
throat.

�� Well,� he
said with some forced lightness, �that means that we�ll be able to make the
same wish.� He lifted the man of bread and blew on it, then held it out to
Harry, hoping like fire that this would work, that he wouldn�t feel stupid or
silly or embarrassed�

�� Harry held
his eyes and didn�t smile as he, too, blew out gently. The bread trembled in
Draco�s hand, and crumbs flaked off and flew. Draco turned, ripped off the
man�s arm, and whirled it into the air.

�� The rest of
the limbs followed, and then the head. Harry stood by his side the entire time
and looked attentive and far more alert than he had when he opened the door.
Draco thought that was the best he could hope for when Harry didn�t really know
about Lughnasadh or understand the traditions.

�� When he
faced Harry again, he held out his hands. Harry clasped them without being
told, staring so deeply into his eyes that Draco flushed and began to fidget in
place. Then he made himself stop. No one
here wants to embarrass you, he thought again, and met Harry�s eyes.

�� I�ve
decided that today should be a day for new beginnings,� he said. �Celebrating the change of seasons.� He thought about
explaining that it was the seasons of their lives rather than seasons of the
year, but stopped. He would feel
stupid saying that aloud, and he had to trust that Harry would understand the
reference.

�� Harry only
nodded. �What do we do next?�

�� Draco
swallowed. This was it, far sooner than he had expected. It wasn�t as though he
had expected the ritual to take a long time, but subjectively, it felt shorter
than he had thought it would.

�� Go to a
place I found and decided would be the one we visited today,� he said simply.
He tightened his hold on Harry�s hands. �Come with me?�

�� Harry
didn�t even ask questions. �Of course.�

�� Draco
couldn�t help leaning forwards to kiss him again, to feel the heat of Harry�s
chest beneath his palms, the warmth and solidity of him as he gave back as good
as he got in the snog. Draco was shaking, but that didn�t matter. What mattered
was that he had someone to rely on, at last, someone who was never going to
desert him or turn his back on Draco the way so many people had in the last few
years.

�� You think, said the laughter in the back
of his head.

�� I know, Draco said fiercely, and
apparently the voice was more impressed than it let on, since it shut up.

*

�� Harry gaped
when they came out of the Portkey swirl, and slowly turned in place as though
he assumed that would make the sights surrounding them less overwhelming.
�Draco,� he breathed, and the thrum of confidence that shot through Draco made
him grin in reaction. �This is beautiful.�

�� Isn�t it,
though?� Draco asked smugly, grabbing Harry�s hand to tow him along. �And
perfect for a holiday that�s meant to celebrate the harvest.�

�� They were walking
through a field of corn, golden and swaying, ripe and heavy. It might have been
the same field that Draco�s enchanted window looked out on, except that he knew
that was only an imaginary place and existed nowhere else. He had arranged with
Porlo�s Portkeys, a service
that provided Portkeys to destinations all over the
world, to take them to a field that looked as like it as possible, though.
Draco didn�t know exactly where they were, and he didn�t care. What mattered
was the green and gold around them, the leaves and the corn and the rustle of
it all, and the heat that hovered in the air.

�� And which we�re soon going to
duplicate, Draco thought, turning around in the middle of the corn to take
Harry�s hands again.

�� With an
effort, Harry pulled his gaze away from the blue sky and focused on him. Draco
stared at him patiently and waited for him to catch up. He did think that he would stammer and embarrass himself if he tried
to speak his decision aloud.

�� Harry
swallowed suddenly and moved forwards to hold his face instead of his hands.
Draco raised his eyebrows.

�� You�you�re
ready to make love,� Harry whispered.

�� Yes.�
Draco didn�t think he needed to say more than that. He stood there instead,
head tilted into the fall of sunlight, and knew that he looked wonderful, his
hair golden, his skin pale, the green wrapped around him.

�� Harry was
kissing him fervently in the next moment, his arms clasping Draco so tight that
he had to restrain a grunt of discomfort. Then Harry turned and laid him down
among the corn, which crackled and broke around them, and Draco was no longer
uncomfortable at all.

�� Harry
couldn�t seem to stop kissing him, couldn�t pull his mouth away even to get the
shirt over Draco�s head. Draco laughed and finally broke off the kiss to help
him, though he lipped and mouthed at the corner of Harry�s mouth so that it
took twice as long as it should have.

�� He couldn�t
remember the last time he had felt this way, to be so fiercely desired. Maybe
he never had. He�d had his share of lovers, mostly swiftly and anonymously, or
in Hogwarts before he was an adult and knew what real feeling was. He had
almost accepted, without thinking about it, that other people in the Ministry
who taunted him were right and that someone would have to be drunk to want him.

�� But Harry
did. Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding World, who could have had anyone.
Harry had stood up to his beloved Weasleys when they bullied Draco. He had
apologized for his mistake in taking Draco to the Burrow too early, when the
Weasleys still weren�t ready to reconcile. He had made up for his errors and
coaxed Draco into dating him, sheltered him until he was ready to stand on his
own, and never, ever pushed.

�� Yes, Draco
was ready now.

�� And happier than he had been in a long time.

�� Harry
stared at him with burning eyes and missed the bottom of his own shirt twice
when he was trying to get it off. Draco, sprawled
naked before him, corn crackling under him, legs falling open more naturally
than they had ever done before, grinned and waved his wand, whispering an
incantation.

�� Harry
yelped as his clothes all flew off at once and looked wildly around. Draco
chuckled and pointed to the nearest row of corn. Harry�s clothes draped them so
that they looked like odd scarecrows. Draco wondered if that would help make up
for some of the (inevitable) damage that they were about to do to the corn.

�� That�s
been a useful spell several times,� he said.

�� Has it?� Harry�s voice was low as he
stalked forwards, eyes so crazy that Draco didn�t understand why he was angry
until he spoke the next words. �Not anymore, I hope. Not with anyone other than
me.�

�� Draco found
himself having trouble breathing. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The smell
of bruised corn leaked into his nostrils, a strong contrast with the way that
Harry�s hand closed down on his thigh, massaging, gripping, and then releasing
slowly, as if he was uncertain of his welcome.

�� Draco? Are
you all right?�

�� Draco
popped open one eye. �Anyone would think that you were the one who didn�t have that much experience,� he said
irritably. �Yes, of course I am. I just think it�s wonderful that you�re
jealous over me, that�s all.�

�� Harry began
to grin. He dropped down to kneel between Draco�s legs, pulling them wider
still. �Like that, do you?� he asked. Draco once never would have imagined such
words being spoken to him, but then again, he hadn�t imagined the rough massage
that Harry�s hands pressed on him, either, or the way that Harry�s teeth closed
on his throat. Harry drew back to blow cool air on the place where he�d bitten
and spoke again. �You want me to challenge other people who might take you
away?�

�� Oh, yes,� Draco said, tilting his head back
further so that Harry could get to all the skin he might desire on Draco�s neck.
�Although I think I�m the one who would have to beat other people off, more
than you would.� His hands grasped greedily at the flesh of Harry�s back,
taking up handfuls where he could, slipping and sliding where he couldn�t.

�� How can
you say that?� Harry�s voice was choked with pleasure. �Look at yourself.�

�� Draco
opened his eyes and looked down.

�� It had been
a long time since he looked at himself with an approving instead of a critical
eye, but he could see why Harry might think him handsome right now. His skin
looked golden, though it was probably only sunlight and corn that gave it that
color. His hair spilled over his shoulders and added another touch of gold. His
limbs were well-defined, his chest lean and tough, his stomach still flat. He
looked up with a lazy smile and met Harry�s eyes, reveling once more in the
greed there.

�� I�m
handsome,� he whispered. �No, I�m beautiful.
Are you beautiful enough to match me? People who look as good as I do have to
have standards, you know.�

�� I�ll show
you standards,� Harry said, and bent down and started sucking his cock as if
this was something they did every day.

�� No, wait, Draco thought, arching his
back and gasping silently as he felt that warm, wet mouth work down his length.
Not like something we do every day. It feels so
much better than that. It is so much
better than that. There�s nothing routine about this.

�� Maybe it
would become routine in time. Draco didn�t want to think about it, but he did, because
he was a pessimist after the experience of the last few years. Maybe someday
they would drift apart, the passion between them would flare out or simply stop
burning, and Draco would again be part of the dark, lonely existence that he
kept being tempted to think Harry had helped him escape.

�� But it
seemed impossible to believe that when he watched Harry sucking his cock, face
bright pink with dedication, eyes closed but blinking open occasionally to
afford Draco a glimpse of incredible green, his eyelashes dark and his hair
black and his skin red and tan and deep gold and brown. Draco reached out and
touched his hair, not trying to move, but simply stroking it, marveling at the
colors.

�� Harry
looked up at him and smiled, and sucked hard. Draco let his head fall back. The
smell of corn was around him again, and the sheaves bobbed and rustled and sang
a soft, peculiar song. The ground prickled beneath his shoulders. The taste of
saliva and joy was in his mouth.

�� When he
arched his hips up and came, it made only for an intensification of his joy,
not a difference in it or a displacement of it.

�� Harry
climbed back up beside him and kissed him with a sticky mouth. Then he lay
down, stretched full-length across Draco, and murmured, �Do you know that you�re
the most splendid lover I�ve ever been with?�

�� Define
�splendid.�� Draco bit Harry�s fingers where they spread across his lips, and
Harry hissed in pleasure. Draco told himself to remember that. �I�ve hardly
done anything to you yet but let you suck my cock.�

�� That�s
enough,� Harry said. �That�s more than
enough. Maybe you have some idea of how you look, but you have no idea of how you feel. Or taste.�
Draco made a wry face and opened his mouth to say that yes, he did, after the
last kiss, but Harry was riding on, heedless. �You�re my lover. My golden one.�

�� Draco
swallowed, because that was the way he was thinking of himself, and it seemed
to prove that he and Harry were more attuned to each other than he had ever
known. He reached out one hand, and Harry took and squeezed it before he
grinned, reached down, and picked up his wand, speaking a spell that Draco
didn�t know.

�� The air
around Harry�s hand shimmered, and he had a large palmful
of a glittery, oozing substance. Draco blinked. �You like lube that glitters?� he asked, since it was the
only question he could come up with right now that made sense.

�� Shove it,
or I won�t fuck you,� Harry murmured.

�� Draco
gulped back the next words he might have spoken at once, and hoped that he was
gulping back his nervousness, too. He didn�t know how well he was going to put
up with this. Fucking had always seemed vulnerable to him. It didn�t help that
some of his lovers in the past who had betrayed him had done it right after
fucking him.

�� But there
was Harry, rubbing the sparkling stuff between his hands with a leer, and Draco
had to trust him, as he�d done so far. So he lay back, pillowing his head on
the corn, and spread his legs further, and nodded.

�� Harry
kissed him on one shoulder before he began to ease his fingers into Draco.
Draco remembered the way this went, but he found that he still had to breathe
for long moments before he relaxed completely. A combination of that old
nervousness and the fact that this really was big, he thought. If he and Harry
had been fucking from the beginning, it wouldn�t have been. But it had taken them months to get as far as wanking, so this was enormous.

�� Harry
seemed to sense that, because he caught Draco�s eye, and his face was suddenly
still. �I promise,� he said softly, �I�ll probably hurt you, but I�ll put you
back together again.�

�� Draco
licked his lips and nodded.

�� Harry bent
down and kissed him again, keeping up the kiss until Draco didn�t know whether
to concentrate on the sensation in his mouth or the sensation in his arse. The
fingers went deeper, exploring, and then found his prostate. Draco broke the
kiss this time, tossing his head back so he could gasp and pant and moan his
pleasure to the air.

�� Harry
rubbed his cheek against Draco�s chest and probed deeper, then pulled back.
Draco blinked at him in a daze. Harry gripped his cock, which Draco hadn�t
touched yet. He would have remedied that, except that Harry�s expression was
urgent.

�� Do you
need any more preparation?� he asked. �I can wait, if you do.�

�� But you
won�t wait easily, will you?� Draco smiled and shook his head when Harry
started to respond. �No, go ahead.�

�� And it was all right. This was more exciting
than it had been with any other lover in the past, in
fact, because Draco trusted Harry, and that trust meant he was willing to take
more risks.

�� Harry slid
in slowly anyway, continually studying Draco�s face. Then he let loose a grunt
of relief and went still. And then he continued, deeper, deeper, until Draco
felt as if he were being hollowed out from the inside.

�� Harry
paused at last, panting. Draco gazed up at him, enthralled. Harry�s sweaty hair
clung to his cheeks. His eyes were wide and wise, and his skin was so flushed
that Draco thought there was a touch of gold in the red.

�� Ready?�
Draco asked, feeling as tender and protective as though he were the one fucking
instead of the one being fucked.

�� Harry
opened his eyes and smiled at him. �Yes,� he said, and threw himself forwards.

�� Draco
opened his arms and legs to welcome him, and in moments the hot, still air was
full of the sound of their movement.

�� Draco felt
heat settle on him like a tent. The sweat burned under his arms and in his
groin, where it was partially pinned under Harry�s legs and stomach. Harry
dripped sweat on him and breathed effort into his face. Draco�s muscles ached
and sang their own private songs of particular labor. The sun was high enough
to shine on them now. Draco writhed through it all, not yearning for one moment
for the coolness of Malfoy Manor, or his upbringing, or the scorn of some of
his lovers of the past, as he had thought he might.

�� He went
into the fire that Harry stirred up in him and was willingly consumed. The
orgasm that he had was almost an afterthought, and he cried out more in
surprise than pleasure�surprise, more than anything else,
that the heat could still increase.

�� Then he had
a second or two to watch and feel Harry rocking into him before he shot himself
deep and wet and sticky. Harry�s eyes rolled back in his head, and he briefly
dropped his eyelids as if he was trying to shield that from Draco�s sight. When
he fell, it was hard; he barely caught himself in time so that he could rest
his head on Draco�s chest instead of crashing into it.

�� His voice
still worked, apparently. �My golden one,� he whispered.

�� Draco
wrapped his arms around Harry�s back, lifted his legs around his hips, and
squeezed down with the muscles of his arse, which made Harry groan.

�� He had
begun to wonder recently, as he agonized over this decision he�d made and
thought about the past, whether he might really be in love with Harry.

�� In this
moment, heat and gold and sun and summer blazing around him, he believed it.

�� The End.
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The Golden One