After All TBGC
Updated:
Summer 7: Part E
Draco
didn’t knock on McGonagall’s door. There really wasn’t a point and,
if he were entirely honest with himself, he was looking forward to the look on
Harry’s face when he came sauntering into the room.
In the few minutes
that it took him to walk there, he’d mapped the entire event out in his
head. He would open the door very
quietly so that Harry, who would of course be in his bedroom at the top of the
stairs, wouldn’t hear it.
Then he would close the door just as quietly and sneak up the steps one
at a time. When he finally got to
the top, he’d take a deep breath, put on his smuggest smile, and open the
door to Harry’s room, sauntering in and laying down next to Harry as if
nothing were out of sorts.
It was
perfect. Except that when he opened
the door to the tower rooms, he found Harry lying on the couch that faced the
door with a pensive, sad look on his face, staring up at a little mirror that
he was holding in one hand, while his other arm rested on his forehead. There was something intimate about the
moment, something that Draco didn’t like
interrupting.
Harry turned his
head sharply towards the door and nearly dropped the mirror. “Draco?”
Draco
forced a smirk and leaned against the door, “Harry.”
He’d expected
a good many reactions. The
preferred being, of course, joy, although he would have settled for a shocked
happy. Instead, Harry just
continued to stare at him, his frown deepening. “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying home this
summer. I thought…”
Draco
shrugged, unsure what to say.
He’d assumed that they’d left on good terms. They’d had the spat, but then
Harry had started crying and they’d spent the rest of that evening out by
the lake. Sure, they hadn’t
talked, but they’d held each other, didn’t that mean anything? His smirk slipped a little, “I
wanted to see you.”
Bright green eyes
stared at him in disbelief.
“You wanted to see me?”
There was betrayal
in his voice and Draco couldn’t quite
understand what he’d done to deserve it. “I just…”
Harry sat up, placing the little mirror carefully onto the coffee
table with more reverence than Draco had ever treated
any of his own possessions. “You just what, Draco?
Why did you want to see me?”
An uncomfortable
tingle swelled in the pit of his stomach.
He knew why, had been able to admit it to himself just before going into
the floo.
He loved Harry. He really,
genuinely loved him and that was terrifying. He wasn’t even sixteen yet and he
was in love with another boy. Not
just shag-him-a-few-times-and-leave-him love, either, but a defy-the-Dark-Lord
sort of love.
He couldn’t
tell Harry that, though. “Why
does it matter?”
Harry stood up, his
fists clenched at his hands. “It matters because I’m tired
of not being sure of you. I’m
fifteen. I’m supposed to be
worrying about handholding and being embarrassed over not knowing how to snog. I’m
not supposed to be shagging someone who’s going to turn around and join
my worst enemy.”
Draco
couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It was almost the same thing he had been
thinking. Well, except that part
where he was worried his lover was going to join the Dark Lord.
“Not three
weeks ago you told me flat out that you were going to join Voldemort
and now you want me to pretend that you didn’t, just so we can spend a
fun filled few weeks together and for what? So you can get in a few more shags
before it’s over?”
“God, Potter,
you sound like a girl.” Draco could have bitten his tongue off for saying
that. Harry was only saying what he
himself had been thinking and it was frustrating. Why was he there? He loved Harry and he wanted to be with
him, but wasn’t it just an elaborate goodbye? Voldemort
wasn’t going to believe him forever.
He figured that he could get this summer out of it, maybe next year if
he pushed really hard, but it wouldn’t last and he knew it.
Harry went a little
pale and looked down at the carpet thoughtfully before suddenly laughing. “I do, don’ I? Here I spend all year making fun of Cho with Ron for all those conflicting emotions she was
feeling, because we couldn’t understand how anyone could feel all that
without absolutely exploding and look at me? I’m doing the same bloody thing. I love you, but I hate you. I can’t stand to be near you, but
I don’t want you to leave. I
can’t forgive that you’d even think about joining Voldemort, but I want to beg you not to. I really am acting like a girl.”
Harry looked up at
him a funny smile on his face.
“Fine, you want to, then we’ll
just… pretend for right now.”
Draco
wasn’t sure what to say to that.
Harry loved him? However,
Harry didn’t give him time to think about it. Before he could blink, Harry marched
over to him and he was being slammed against the door, his hands caught on
either side of his head, and Harry was staring at him intently. He wrenched his left hand free and
grabbed the back of Harry’s head, pulling him into a hard kiss, pressing
his tongue into Harry’s mouth urgently.
It was so familiar
and so perfect. Harry tasted like
chocolate and cinnamon. He pulled
his other hand free and grabbed Harry’s hip, dragging him closer. He was already aware of his own painful
erection and the feeling Harry’s hard cock pressed against his, even
through layers of clothing and cloaks, made him moan heatedly.
Harry shoved his
hands past Draco’s robes and popped the buttons
of his trousers open. Harry yanked
his mouth away from Draco’s seeking lips, “Draco, I want to suck you off.”
Draco
moaned as Harry dropped to his knees and wrapped his lips around Draco’s cock, taking it down his throat with no
pretence, no teasing, just a low throated moan that made Draco’s
knees shake. God, it felt so good
and the fact that it was Harry made it even better.
Harry’s
throat closed around the head of his cock and Draco
pressed his head against the wall and put his hand on the back of Harry’s
head. He didn’t use any
force, but the added sensation of feeling Harry’s head move under his
hand tipped him over the edge. He
clenched his fingers in the black strands as his orgasm washed over and he felt
the vibration of Harry’s throat as he moaned, coming over his own hand.
As Draco panted, still leaning against the wall, Harry stood
up and kissed him again. The
sweetness of the cocoa mixed with the bitterness of Draco’s
cum was intoxicating and Draco deepened the kiss,
lingering on it for as long as he could.
Harry pulled back and looked at Draco, his
face was flushed and his eyes were glistening.
Was he crying? Draco reached
up a hand to touch Harry’s face and Harry jerked away. “I can’t do this.”
Without another
word, he pushed past Draco and ran down the
hall. Draco
stood alone in the room, staring vacantly at the muggle
decorations and little framed pictures on the wall. What the bloody hell was he supposed to
do with that?
____________________
God, what the hell
had been thinking?
Harry wasn’t
even sure where he was anymore. It
always surprised him that no matter how many times he told himself that there
couldn’t possibly be any corridors he hadn’t already explored, he
always came across a new one, or managed to get lost. This time, he was in a corridor that was
obviously disused. There were
cobwebs hanging off the candles and the charms that were supposed to light them
as people past had worn off almost entirely so that only one in every four or
five actually lit.
Not that any of
that mattered, he’d just needed to get away and ‘get away’ he
had. How was he supposed to pretend
that there wasn’t anything wrong with any of this? He was sleeping with the enemy, literally. Hell, he was giving the enemy head right
in his own living room and this time ‘enemy’ didn’t just mean
school rival, it meant Death Eater, minion of the Dark Lord that was out to
kill him.
So why was it that
he could still feel the weigh of Draco’s cock
on his tongue? Why did his
lingering taste just about make him hard again? Harry ran a finger over his lips and
sighed. This wasn’t any
good. He really was acting like a
girl.
What would Ron do
in this situation? Would Ron sit
around acting like a ninny, worrying about emotions and the future when he had
a willing partner at his disposal?
No, of course not, because Ron was a man, he would be perfectly willing
to set aside his differences until after the sex had been had. Hell, he might not even approach it
after the sex. Ron was fairly good
at avoiding his emotions until they bit him on the arse. Like Hermione, the day Ron admitted what
he felt for Hermione was the day Harry stood in front of the whole school and
announced that he was in love with Draco Malfoy.
Good thing Ron was
never going to do that. Not anytime
soon, anyway.
Putting his head on
his knees, Harry sighed. For now,
he’d just sit there and try not to think about anything. Not about Draco,
not about Voldemort, and not about Sirius. Nothing.
____________________
Harry had debated
coming back for dinner, but eventually, he’d decided it would simply be
childish of him to skip it, so he’d gone back to his rooms and found Draco reading one of his books, that familiar scowl plastered
on his face. “Harry, how can
you possibly stand this tripe?”
“The Scarlet
Letter is not tripe.” Harry
took the book out of his hands and didn’t miss the annoyed flinch. “It’s classic literature.”
Draco
shrugged and crossed his arms, “It may be classic, but it’s
still tripe. Why would anyone want
to read a story about a woman who gets herself knocked up? It’s hardly an
accomplishment.”
Instead of
answering him, Harry put the book on the down on the coffee table, next to the
little mirror that he’d left there that afternoon and went to the table,
sitting down. Draco
had barely stood to follow him when a strangely familiar house elf popped into
the room wearing a number of hats on top of his bald little head.
“What is Harry Potter sir wanting for dinner?”
Harry’s
cringe was quickly smoothed over into a smile, “We’ll have roast
chicken and vegetables, Dobby, thank you.”
Dobby, the freakish
little thing that Harry had managed to set free under his father’s nose
some years ago was working at Hogwarts?
Dobby gave a sheepish smile before popping away. When he didn’t move to join Harry
at the table, Harry looked at him, “What?”
“That’s
my house elf, isn’t it?”
He didn’t
really need confirmation, but he was somehow startled when Harry shrugged. “Yeah, he’s been working here
for over a year.”
“Working?!”
Suddenly,
Harry’s face split into an evil sort of grin, the kind that Draco never associated with innocent little Harry
Potter. “Yes, working. As in, he gets paid, and he gets the occasional day off.” To Draco’s
growing horror, Harry didn’t stop there. “Hermione’s started a whole
society for it - the Society for the Promotion of Elvish
Welfare. She makes them
clothes. Did you see Dobby’s socks?
I’m sure he’d be happy to show you.”
Two plates of
roasted chicken popped in front of them, both piled with green beans and
carrots. A basket of rolls
appeared, followed by a little tray of butter and two glasses of cold beverage
that didn’t look anything like pumpkin juice. Draco
couldn’t move. He tried to
imagine house elves wearing clothes and getting paid, but his mind seemed to
have locked up at the mere suggestion.
It was absurd. House elves
didn’t need clothes and they certainly didn’t need wages. What would they spend it on? All they ever did was work.
Harry picked up the
glass and drank it, his eyes fluttering for a moment before he looked back at Draco.
“You going to eat, or are you just going to sit there gawking all
evening?”
“Malfoy’s don’t gawk.” It had been an automatic response, but
one he suddenly regretted, because Harry had frowned at it. “I mean, I’m not
gawking.”
“Sure you’re
not. Come on, before it gets
cold.”
Draco
sat down and looked at the meal. He
was somewhat surprised that Harry would order something so conventional when
there were no adults around. From
what Dumbledore had told him, he’d expected that he would have to keep
Harry in check and make sure he ate proper food. Instead, he found himself looking at a
very healthy array. Well, except
for the strange beverage.
He picked up the
glass and looked at it closely. It
was black, but it wasn’t thick enough to be coffee and there were little
bubbles in it. He sloshed it and
more of the bubble appeared, accompanied by a soft hissing sound. “What is this?”
Harry chuckled,
“It’s Coke.”
“Coke? Is that Muggle?”
“The
professors won’t let me have any ‘cause
they say it’ll rot my teeth.
Well, except Flitwick, who just said ‘no’.
It’s brilliant, though, try some.”
Reluctantly, Draco put the glass to his lips and tilted it back, letting
just a little of the liquid run in.
It tasted… strange.
Not bad, really, just strong and very sweet. As he held it on his tongue the strange
tingling sensation that had been no more than a tickle, became more pronounced
and suddenly much sharper. Fighting
the urge to spit it out, he swallowed thickly and looked at the glass again,
torn between amazement and disgust.
“That
was…”
“Odd, I
know. It’s been years since I
had any. I nearly choked it up the
other day.”
He’d wanted
to say horrible, but truth was the lingering taste in his mouth wasn’t
all that bad, a little heavy, maybe, but not bad. Cautiously, Draco
took another sip and then another.
Actually, it was kind of good once you got past the tingling.
“You said
that Muggles made this?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s…
not bad.”
Harry chuckled
across from him and he looked up, watching as Harry waved a piece of chicken
impaled on a fork at him.
“We’ll make a Muggle lover out of
you yet, Draco Malfoy.
He paled slightly
at the implication, but the half smile on Harry’s face was worth the
humiliating accusation. Besides,
maybe it wasn’t so humiliating.
-tbc-