Summer 6:   Part C

Harry knew he liked Draco, but he refused to spend any length of time analysing it, because it only led to confusion.  They had almost nothing in common other than Quidditch.  Draco hated Muggleborns, Harry rather liked them.  Draco had a blasé attitude towards Voldemort’s return - he just couldn’t see how it affected him - Harry was just waiting for the next attempt on his life by the Dark Lord and dreading going to sleep at night for fear of visions.   Draco thought that the only time things were fun and interesting was when he wasn’t supposed to be doing them, Harry, despite his school record, much preferred to stay out of trouble.  The list just went on, but for every thing Harry came up with that made them different it was followed by, “but I like him.”  Draco made him blush with suggestive comments and when they fought it was all he could do to keep his hands off the little twit.  Like earlier that day.

“Hey, Potter, I was just thinking about something.”

Harry hadn’t even bothered to look up from the letter he was writing.  When Draco called him by his last name, it was usually because he was planning something that Harry wouldn’t like.  “What?”

“Remember when we were little and we used to sit around talking to Sir Cadogan?”

He dipped his quill back in the ink and kept writing.  Dumbledore had been dodging him all summer, Ron and Hermione had completely ignored any of his questions as to what was going on, even Sirius, who was usually the first person to answer all of his questions, was tight lipped.  It was frustrating and it didn’t help to have Draco bugging him every time he tried to write a letter.

“You sat around talking to Sir Cadogan, I stood behind you trying to read a book and waiting until you got bored with it.”

“Exactly.”

Abandoning the letter, Harry turned around to see Draco sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at him expectantly.  “Draco, was there a point to this?”

“Nope, I just like annoying you.”

Deep breathes.  Long, deep breathes.  “Is this because you’re bored?”

“Isn’t it always?  I want to go… I dunno, re-live my childhood, or something.  Let’s go talk to Sir Cadogan.”

“I’m not going to talk to Sir Cadogan.  You know where he is, if you’re so desperate for his company.”

He turned away, but soon heard the soft pad of Draco’s bare feet on the floor as the other boy got off the bed and came to stand behind Harry, breathing in his ear.  “Dear Sirius, What’s going on?  Dumbledore’s never around and when he is, he’s too busy to talk to me.  Ro…”

Harry flipped the paper over and stood up, shoving Draco back.   “Stop it, Malfoy.”

Draco shoved him back, his smirk never leaving his face.  “Make me, Potter.”

Harry shoved him again, putting his strength behind it and Draco stumbling back, his legs hitting the edge of the bed.  “You are such a prat, Malfoy!”

“You like it, Potter.”  That was all the warning Harry got before Malfoy grabbed him and spun him around so that Harry was the one pressed half against the bed.  Fifteen minutes and an earth shattering orgasm later and Harry couldn’t remember why he’d been so aggravated to begin with.

That was how it always happened.  Draco became annoying, Harry got annoyed, and they ended up bumping and grinding and touching on the bed, or against the wall, once on the floor, and another time on top of a desk in an unused classroom.  It was unnerving, it was sick and wrong, and it felt really, really good.

____________________

Snape, had taken to glaring at them both at every opportunity, especially Harry, but then that was nothing new and although Draco didn’t appreciate being one of the subjects of Snape’s glaring, he would have been more shocked had Snape left them entirely alone.  “Elbows off the table, Mr. Potter, you’d think you were raised by low class muggles instead of the entire staff of a prestigious wizarding school.”

Harry’s eye twitched, but he said nothing, removing his elbows from the table and then reached for a fork.

“That is a salad fork, Mr. Potter.  After over five years, one would think you had absorbed something of proper etiquette.”

Draco was more than slightly surprised when Harry set down the fork and reached for the other one, saying nothing as he used it to pick up a bit of chicken.

“Small bites, boy, I refused to watch you cram a bite as big as your fist into your mouth.  It is entirely uncouth.”

With a deep breath, Harry set down the bite and took up the knife, quietly cutting it, before putting it in his mouth.  Although, it was obvious that his patience was wearing thin.

“Mouth closed, I will not watch food rumble around your gaping orifice.”

With that, the dark haired boy’s resolve snapped.  “Is it alright if I exist, Professor, or should I just stop breathing all together?”

Snape seemed to barely restrain himself from reaching across the table and smacking the petulant frown off his charge’s face.  Instead, he sent Harry to his room to finish his dinner (because Dumbledore had mandated that Snape could not starve Harry).  Draco watched him pick up his plate and walk away, his steps a little more forceful than strictly necessary.

Recently, it seemed that Harry had developed a great deal of patience, although there was no telling when he would finally loose it and blow up.  Snape, on the other hand, had absolutely no desire to deal with Harry on any level and took every excuse to send the Gryffindor to his room, even when it was very clear that this was more of a reward than a punishment.

Draco quietly finished his meal, taking small, well-proportioned bites.  Lucius had made sure that Draco had been taught proper etiquette starting at the young age of six and so keeping his elbows off the table and picking up the right fork came second nature to him.   Snape, however, wasn’t paying any attention to him.  Just to make sure, he purposefully took his salad fork and used to it to eat his chicken.  Four bites later, he decided that, no, Snape wasn’t interested in him at all.  How annoying.

“Professor, may I be excused?”

Snape nodded, but didn’t look up from his plate.  While Draco wasn’t interested in being on the receiving end of Snape’s foul temper, he did prefer that Snape at least look at him.  With a sigh, he pushed back from the table and went to the bathroom, rinsing off his hands absently.

As he slipped through the living room and into the bedroom, he felt a stab of annoyance that Snape had apparently left the room without saying anything to him. Harry was sitting at his desk again, his empty plate pushed aside and his feet propped on the edge of his chair, holding an open book on his knees.  Draco closed the door, leaning against it and cocking his head to one side, taking in the perturbed knit of Harry’s eyebrows.

“You really know how to piss him off.”

Harry didn’t look up, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really reading the book.  “He really knows how to piss me off.”

“Still, that was hardly the way to go about winning favours from the man.”

Draco pushed off the door and walked past Harry, sitting on the bed.  Harry didn’t looked up at him, although he stopped trying to pretend to read and set the book down on the desk.  “I don’t want to win favours from Professor Snape, I want him to leave me in peace.”

“Fat lot of good that will do you come next year.  If you expect to pass potions, you’d better want to earn favour.”

“You make that sound like he’s trading blow jobs for grades.”

“Maybe he is.”  Harry looked up at that, his eyes wide in shock.  Draco chuckled, “You are so gullible, Harry.  Come on, I have a letter I want to send out.”

He reached into his bedside dresser and pulled out the envelope he had sealed the day before.  It had taken him a great deal of time to come to terms with sending it, but it came down to the simple fact that he had no other means of getting what he wanted, so he would have to hope that Goyle was even denser than he thought.

Harry looked at Draco curiously, “Can’t it wait until morning?  You know Snape doesn’t let us out after dinner.”

Draco shook his head; there was no way he would be able to send this during the day, none at all.  “Just get your cloak and let’s go.”

With a roll of his eyes, Harry dug around his trunk and pulled out the invisible cloak.  “He’ll know we’re gone.”

“No, he won’t, and besides, I’ll take the blame if he gets upset.”  He’d been doing a lot of that lately, taking the blame where Snape was concerned, but he’d realised something about Harry that he thought should have been obvious from the start.  If Draco did something wrong, all he had to do was apologise and Harry forgave him, albeit with a lecture.  If Draco wanted to get on Harry’s good side, he simply had to do something wrong, wait until Snape started to shout at Harry and then step forward.  For some reason, Harry went all to mush over this and ended up staring at Draco like he was some kind of confusing saviour, but a saviour none-the-less.

It was enough to fill Draco’s head and make him do stupid things on the off chance that they’d get caught and he could take the blame.  Why Harry was so easily swayed by this tactic, Draco had no idea.  It wasn’t as if Snape were going to truly punish Draco, he never did.  The absolute worst case scenario was that Draco’s father would find out, which, while terrifying if he stopped to think about it, seemed a very long way off.

Harry eyed Draco suspiciously, but eventually, shrugged and went to his trunk.  He rummaged around for a while and finally came up with a rolled up piece of parchment and the invisible cloak.   After several seconds of biting his lip in the most delicious fashion (thoughtful, it had been thoughtful), Harry had put the parchment back and closed his trunk, locking it.

Snape was still nowhere to be seen, but just to be sure, Draco went first, sliding out the door and looking down the corridor before motioning for Harry to join him.  As was usual during the holidays, the castle was deserted in a way that felt unreal.   Every breath and every step echoed off the walls and Harry finally stopped and motioned for Draco to take off his shoes, determined that they were too loud.

With a disgruntled sigh, Draco complied, but only because he was didn’t want to piss Harry off before they got to bed.  It was absurd, a Malfoy walking barefoot down the corridors of Hogwarts.   Malfoys didn’t go barefoot, but then Malfoys didn’t grope other boys in the middle of the night to get off.

Finally, they reached the door and Harry quietly opened it, cringing as several of the birds hooted at him, turning their heads nearly upside down as if to get a better look at who had come in.  Hedwig was near the door and Harry went over to her, stroking her feathers while Draco went to his own owl and tied the letter, which jangled with the weight of galleons, to its leg.  “Take this to Gregory Goyle,” he started to turn away and then turned back, “and nip at his hand a little.”

“Hey!”  He looked over to see Harry, who was staring at him incredulously.  “Is that why the damned thing kept biting me all year, because you told it to?”

Draco shrugged, “Of course.”  Before Harry could reply, Draco grabbed his hand and pulled him away from Hedwig and out the door, “Come on, we’ve got to hurry back before Snape notices we’ve gone.”

He thought he heard Harry mumble something that sounded like, “bet he already has,” but ignored it. They’d made it nearly half way back when the sound of footsteps froze them both in place.  Harry was the first to react; he grabbed Draco and pulled him against him, sweeping the cloak around them, and holding his breath.

The footsteps stopped, then started again.  Draco pressed himself harder against Harry, hoping to minimise the chance that whoever it was would run into them.  The movement, however, cause him to rub a certain, very sensitive part of his anatomy against an equally sensitive part of Harry’s.

Harry’s body stiffened against him and Draco grinned wickedly at the other boy, who shook his head imploringly.  Well, it really was the do-gooder Gryffindor’s fault, if he didn’t want to be molested, he shouldn’t have put himself between Draco and the wall.  Moving his hands from where they were pressed against the wall, he put them on Harry’s hips to hold them still.

Slowly Draco began to rock against the body in front of him and Harry’s eyes practically rolled into his head, his cock coming to instant attention at the friction.  Draco forced back a moan and pressed his mouth into Harry’s shoulder, biting down slightly to keep from making noise as he picked up the pace.  Something about the danger of being caught and the little half pants of Harry’s suppressed breathing in his ear made it that much more exciting.

The footsteps were now accompanied by mumbling and Draco knew it was Snape without even really paying attention, but that wasn’t what he cared about.  He bit harder into the shoulder and Harry gave a muffled squeak.  Draco looked up and saw that Harry had pressed a hand over his mouth.  His pupils were dilated so large that Draco could barely see green in the wide eyes.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Draco moved Harry’s hand out of the way and kissed him, delving his tongue into the shocked mouth before it could close.  Harry’s hands moved from the wall, to Draco’s arms, to his shoulders.  Somehow, Draco expected Harry to push him away, they may have done things like this before, but never when there was a chance they could get caught, but Harry just held on tighter.

A lantern swung into view just as Draco felt his balls tighten and he kissed Harry harder, and tightened his grip on the other boy’s arm as he rode it out, trying to ignore what was definitely Snape muttering under his breath as he walked past them.  Harry was shaking just slightly, his breath coming in little huffs against Draco’s lips.  Slowly, the footsteps faded to nothing and the corridor became as pitch black as it had been before.

Then, very suddenly, Draco found himself on his arse on the floor, with a very pissed off Harry Potter towering over him.  “Draco, you complete idiot, that was stupid.  We could have gotten caught.  You may think this is all fun and games, but I have to live with that man every day during the summer and attend classes with him every term.  The last thing I need is to be caught by him in the act of… getting off in an empty corridor with you.”

“Hey!”  Why did Harry have to make it sounded like it would have been better had it been someone else?  “We weren’t going to get caught.”

“You don’t know that.”  Harry enunciated each word as if he were talking to a three-year-old and Draco felt his neck heating in anger.

“Oh, like you care so much about the rules.  You spend all year tossing them about without a care and suddenly they matter?”

Harry’s green eyes narrowed, “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Malfoy.”

“Stuff it, Potter.”

The next thing he knew they were rolling around the floor, punching and shoving each other like pissed off schoolgirls.  It was undignified, it was uncouth, it was uncultured, but it was making him hard and he’d only just cum.  As the fighting turned less aggressive and more intimate, Draco was, for once, very glad he was a teenage boy.

____________________

They had been at it again.  Not that they did anything else, but Snape could always hope.  He’d searched the entire castle and eventually found them back in the room, Draco looking very pleased with himself and the Potter brat looking exorbitantly guilty.  They were both in pyjamas, but the clothes currently folding on top of the trunks at the foot of the bed were wrinkled and dishevelled and… good god were those stains?

Draco opened his mouth and Snape held up a hand, “Don’t bother to make excuses, Draco, I don’t want to hear them.”

The blonde eyebrows drew together in confusion, “But…”

“No, I can ignore some things, Draco, as you well know, but your father has entrusted me with your safety and there are reasons why I ask you to stay in your room at night.”

“We didn’t leave the castle.”

“Black got into the castle; I daresay there are a great many people out there smarter than he is.”  Draco only scoffed at this, and Snape found himself irritated at the flippant behaviour.  “Potter has obviously been a bad influence.  Perhaps it would be best to separate the two of you for the remainder of the summer.”  Silently he added, ‘and leave me what little sanity I have.’

“You can’t!”  Whatever Snape had expected, it hadn’t been for Draco to outburst, practically throwing himself at Snape and stomping his foot on the ground like a spoiled toddler.   He was so much like his father.

“I assure you that I can and I will.  Professor McGonagall has decided to stay at the castle this summer and I will see to it that Potter returns to her care and you remain in mine.”

“But I don’t want him sent away.  He’s all there is to keep my company while I’m locked up in this place.”

“You’ll still get to see him, Draco, you just won’t be sleeping in the same bed.”

Draco’s cheeks went immediately pink, not that it stopped him from continuing in his tantrum.   “That’s not fair!”

Potter had said nothing, his head cast towards the floor and he took in the reprimand with so little argument it aggravated Snape further.  “Perhaps the famous Harry Potter would care to tell us how he feels about this?”

Draco looked back at Harry immediately and it was obvious by his expectant gaze that he thought his ‘friend’ would take his side.  However, instead of fighting, Harry shrugged, “Whatever the Professor thinks is best.”

It was said with just the slightest undertone of sarcasm and an emphasis on the word Professor that made Snape’s eye twitch.  How was it that the boy managed to make his title seem like a mockery?  “Yes, whatever I think is best.  I’ll speak with Dumbledore in the morning.”

He closed the bedroom door and had to stop himself from locking it.  What the hell had Potter been thinking going off on his own in the middle of the night?  Yes, there had been little Death Eater activity, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t any and it didn’t mean that the boy was safe.  Of course, it helped to know that they hadn’t actually left the castle this time.  So help him, if Potter had thrown all caution to the wind and gone outside, no matter what the reason, Snape would have thrashed him, Dumbledore be damned.

The sound of yelling started to make its way through the door, specifically, Draco’s yelling.  Snape moved away and went to his room, casting a charm on the front door to keep it locked throughout the night.  Curse Lucius for leaving him in charge of two randy teenagers.  In fact, yes, cursing Lucius sounded like a wonderful idea.  Perhaps he could get Minerva to agree to babysit.