The Bet
Chapter XV – 536,400 Seconds to Learn Confidence
Harry/Draco, Harry/OMC, Harry/OFC, Draco/OFC, Seamus/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Luna
R/NC-17 | 22,723 words | 2004-present
Beta: MachiavellianOrange and IcyAurora
Summary:AU. Post-war. It all started with a little bet. Draco Malfoy has never been one to back down from a perfectly do-able bet. But when that bet involves Harry Potter? Draco is realising that this bet is not as cut and dry as it seems, nor as easy...
Notes: Written before HBP and DH.
Dedication: To Michelle, Erin and Toni, this chapter is for you.
***
Sunday, 5 October 2003, Mid Evening
***
When Harry dropped Raven off at number
four, he found himself wanting to kiss her again. Really wanting
to kiss her. So much so that he nearly turned his head when she gave
him a quick hug goodbye.
Once she was inside, he stood there
for a moment, his jaw clenched and his body trembling with tension.
Breathing through his nose, he tried to calm himself, overcome with
emotions and desires he was afraid to act on. After a few moments, he
found himself releasing it all and falling into wretched sadness.
Sighing, he made his way off the porch
and onto the grass, deciding to visit the cove rather than the beach—his
most recent memories of that place were not pleasant. The weather seemed
to agree, as the storm had followed Harry back from London. The sky
was darkening, but the sun still peeked through the clouds, the tension
that was building in the air, palpable. Harry wondered if it would ever
break.
He spent the entire walk to the cove
berating himself; berating himself for feeling like he did for Raven,
berating himself for falling for her while she was in a relationship
with Draco, and berating himself for wanting more contact with her,
regardless. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was indeed twenty-three,
and as hard as it was to believe, he had never had a girlfriend, and
he had hardly been kissed. He suddenly felt the effects of being cheated
out of life—while all he had wanted was a normal, happy life, all he
ever got was stranger and more painful than before, and he was stripped
of his normal rights as a boy, as a teenager, as a man, and as a person.
Reaching the cove, he sat down at
the cliff, dangling his legs and sighing in frustration and defeat.
He had to find something else—no—someone
else to focus his attentions on. But who, honestly? There wasn’t anyone
who wasn’t already in a relationship and cared to know him. The real
him, that is.
So here he was, left alone. And he was
really fucking tired of it.
Sitting at the cove, his thoughts
rounded to Draco, and what he would say. ‘You’re being pathetic, Potter.
You have plenty of friends, and everyone loves you. Stop whining.’ Oh,
and, ‘You ever think about Raven again, I’ll kill you.’ Or something
like that.
Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t say quite
that. But the pathetic part, Harry was certain of. He was acting rather
pathetic. But he couldn’t stop the driving need that was taking over
his body.
The need of companionship. The need
of affection and love. The need to be touched. The need to be stroked.
The need to be brought to such exhilarating heights as someone explored
his body and brought him pleasure. The need to be bodily loved by someone,
and bodily love that person in return.
His arousal now straining in his pants,
Harry’s mind brought forth images from the book he had browsed through
earlier; of men and women’s bodies intertwined. He found himself shifting
back from the edge of the cliff and lying down, deftly unbuttoning his
jeans and shoving his hand in them to relieve himself of the pressure
in his groin. He moaned out load as he touched himself, images from
the book and Raven’s face and imagined body looming in his mind’s eye.
The chirp of a nightingale registered
distantly in his mind, and a skimming thought of where he was and just
whose ‘thinking’ place this was whirled his mind around, and
he found his mental images changing. Draco’s striking face and silvery
piercing eyes entered the mixture, and the one little glimpse of the
two males illustrated in the book came to the fore, as did the mental
images he had had of Draco posing nude, and his hips bucked and he gasped.
The pressure was at the breaking point,
and nearly had been when he started, and with two more rough strokes
and semi-muffled groan, Harry came, Draco’s smooth voice from nights
before filling his inner ear.
“Do you scream, Harry?”
Harry’s thought was: Oh god, I want
to.
Slowly, he came down from his high,
and taking his hand out of his trousers, he looked at the sticky mess
on his palm and stringing between his fingers, musing what it might
taste like. Scrunching up his nose at the odd thought, not quite sure
where it came from, he took his wand out and muttered a quick ‘scourgify’,
sitting up and looking down at his unbuttoned jeans and feeling rather
disgusted with himself.
I can’t believe I just wanked off
in the middle of the woods. And I thought of Draco…god, he’d probably
kill me if he ever found out…
Not sure if wanking off really helped
him or not, he stood, pocketing his wand and re-buttoning his jeans
before heading home. The sun had just begun to set, and Harry’s thoughts
set with it; the forest darkening quickly around him with his mood.
***
When Harry walked in through the back
patio door that evening, Ron immediately knew that something was wrong.
He had been hanging out in the lounge
with Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Seamus and Neville, when his best mate walked
in, giving them all a half-hearted smile before heading upstairs without
a word.
Ron shared a look with his girlfriend
before they both excused themselves. The remainder of the group shared
glances as well, and a worried look found its way onto Ginny’s face.
Seamus put an arm around her and pulled
her close, kissing her red hair. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, love. It’s
Harry.”
“But with last night…I mean, he seemed
so much happier today in London…I wonder what happened?”
“Probably nothing more than the usual,”
Luna said, her gaze settled on Neville, sitting next to her.
Ginny looked at the blonde with perplexity.
“The usual?”
Luna turned her double-plaited head
towards the other girl with a dreamy look in her eye. “Depression, loneliness,
sexual frustration...”
Ginny’s mouth dropped open and Seamus
burst out laughing. His girlfriend turned to him and frowned. “Seamus,
it’s not funny! Harry’s still having a hard time, okay? And he is
lonely,” she turned back to Luna. “We should be supportive, rather than
forgetting that anything’s ever happened.”
Seamus’ laughter died down, and Neville
nodded, kissing his girlfriend on the temple.
“It’ll be four years come February,”
he murmured.
They all nodded, and Ginny cast a glance
upward in a silent prayer.
***
Hermione cast a quick look behind her
at Ron before knocking on Harry’s door. She nearly jumped back when
it opened almost immediately, Harry’s silhouette dark and ominous against
the warm light of the room behind him.
Harry just looked at them blankly and
turned around without a word, leaving the door open behind him.
“What took you so long?” he said tonelessly,
plopping down on the bed and kicking off his shoes. “I figured you would
have tried to stop me from going up the stairs.”
Hermione and Ron entered silently, Ron
closing the door behind them.
Harry looked back up. “What? You’re
not going to ask what’s wrong?”
Hermione frowned and said, “We were
kind of hoping we wouldn’t have to.”
“Well, keep hoping,” Harry replied,
shrugging off his denim jacket and throwing it on his trunk.
“Harry,” Ron started, “don’t shut us
out. Please. Let us help you.”
“Well, you can’t, so stop trying.”
“Harry James Potter, stop being such
a pretentious ass!” Hermione cursed, her hands on her hips. Letting
out a calming breath, she offered in a softer tone, “Maybe you’d feel
better if you’d at least tell someone. Even if we can’t do anything,
we’d at least like to know what’s going on.”
Harry looked darkly up at his two best
friends. He didn’t respond.
“Harry, mate,” Ron almost pleaded, “What
happened? Did…” he glanced quickly at Hermione, “did something happen
with Raven?”
When Harry looked away, Hermione took
the initiative and sat down beside him.
“You kissed, didn’t you?” she asked
softly.
There was a tense silence before: “No.
And that’s the problem.”
“Problem?” Ron asked.
“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “The problem.
I…” He leaned back on his hands and stared up at the ceiling. “I wanted
to.”
“But you didn’t want to, because she’s
Draco’s girlfriend,” Hermione stated.
“You’re too smart, Hermione,” Harry
said. Nodding, he finished with, “Yeah.”
“Well then,” Ron said a bit hesitantly,
“isn’t that a good thing? That you didn’t, I mean?”
Harry and Hermione both shot Ron harried
looks.
“You’re so insensitive, Ron,” the girl
said.
“What?” the redhead defended. “I just…
I mean, I guess I just don’t understand cheating on someone, is all.
So shouldn’t Harry be glad that he didn’t kiss Raven, so she wouldn’t
have cheated on Malfoy, and Malfoy wouldn’t have had to come kick his
arse? Not saying he could or anything,” he added quietly.
Harry shook his head. “It’s not about
that, Ron. I’m just sick of it.” He stood and started pacing about the
room. “I’m fucking tired of being alone, of feeling alone,
of wanting to have what you guys have,” he gestured wildly,
“of what everybody fucking has except me!”
“Harry, mate, calm down.”
Harry took a couple of deep breaths
and moved around his bed to look out the back window.
“She’s asked me to pose nude with Draco
for pictures.”
“What?!” Ron exclaimed. Even Hermione’s
mouth dropped open.
“And I told her I’d do it.”
While Ron was gaping like a fish, Hermione
asked, “Raven wants you to pose nude…for pictures?”
“Yes.” Harry replied.
“With Malfoy?” she clarified.
“Yes.”
“And you’ve agreed to do it.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Merlin, Harry…” Ron breathed.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Harry rationalised.
“I’ve already posed for a painting, a few weekends ago.”
“You did?” Ron asked, shocked.
Hermione cut in. “Harry, why didn’t
you mention this before?”
He shrugged. “I was kind of mad at you.
Besides, you wanted to know what was going on, and this is it.”
“Wait, why were you mad at us?”
“For talking about me behind my back.
For talking to Raven behind my back.”
Hermione blushed. “We just wanted to
make sure she wasn’t using you Harry.”
“I know. But I realised something that
night. I was tired of letting others direct my life for me. I wanted
to do something different, something…for a friend.”
“So you let her paint you?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”
Ron sighed heavily and sat down on the
bed. “So you’re feeling really frustrated because you like her, and
you can’t do anything with her?”
Harry bit his lip, turning around. “Yes,
it’s that. I just…I’m just feeling rather confused right now, and I’m
not really sure where my life is going.” He smiled. “I mean, look at
you two, you’re getting married in a few months.”
Ron smiled and Hermione blushed. “That
doesn’t mean you still won’t be a huge part of our lives, Harry,” Hermione
said.
He nodded, sitting. “Yeah, I know. That
changed a long time ago, anyway. You guys have your own lives together
now, and I just need to find mine.”
Hermione cocked her head. “It sounds
like you’ve already figured it out on your own.”
The bespectacled man snorted. “Maybe.
It’s just harder than it sounds, is all.”
Ron patted Harry on the shoulder. “You’ll
find someone, mate. And even if you don’t, you’ll find your way. Not
everyone is meant to be with someone. Look at Snape. Or Dumbledore,
for example. They seemed to have managed so far at this point.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You want
me to become an old coot or a greasy-potions master?”
Ron laughed. “No, mate. Merlin, no. I think more of either of them is
too much for this world.”
“Feeling better, Harry?” Hermione asked,
brushing a lock of hair out of the man’s face.
Harry sighed, nodding and smiling. “Yeah.
Much. Thanks guys.”
“Always, Harry. Don’t keep things bottled
inside, all right?” And she leaned forward to give him a hug.
He hugged her back and felt Ron embrace
them all. Harry couldn’t help but laugh and soon they were all giggling,
feeling for all the world that they were younger, and back at Hogwarts,
on one of those rare occasions when none of them felt threatened or
the urge to do some amateur detective work.
It truly was a wonderful thing to feel
like he had his friends back, if only for a while.
***
Monday, 6 October 2003, Late
Afternoon
***
“Hey Harry, can I talk with you a moment?”
Harry turned around to Mikhail’s call,
giving Draco a pat on the back before walking toward his captain.
“Yeah, Mik?”
Mikhail gave Harry an intense look before
saying, “Look, I know you think you played a horrible game on Saturday,
but I just want you to know that I think you did your best. The Widgeons
are tough, and you played well under the circumstances.”
Harry blinked in humbleness. “Er…thanks,
Mik.”
Mikhail smiled. “And I think you played
well today in our scrimmages. I was wondering if you wanted to go
out for a drink with me tonight? I want to talk to you about your
probable career in Quidditch.”
A look of confused shock placed itself
on Harry’s face. “Oh? Well, uh, I can’t tonight, actually. I’m studying
over at Draco’s right after I shower.”
Mikhail raised his eyebrows in mild
surprise. “Oh, okay. Well, do you want to go some other time?”
“Sure. Is Friday night after practice
good?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Mikhail
smiled brilliantly and patted Harry on the shoulder as he passed by
on his way to the locker rooms.
Harry turned with Mikhail and saw Draco
still waiting for him. Draco gave their captain a firm nod as he walked
past, and waited for Harry to catch up. As Harry approached, he asked,
“What was that about?”
Harry shrugged. “He just wanted to compliment
my game on Saturday, and ask me out for drinks on Friday night.”
“Oh. Friday, you say?”
“Yeah. He wants to talk about my professional
career, apparently.”
“Hm? I wonder if he’s heard anything
from scouts? You did disappear after the game, you know.”
Harry blushed slightly, embarrassed.
“Yeah. I know.”
***
Tuesday, 7 October 2003, Early
Evening
***
“I think I’ve figured out how to break him.”
“You mean Harry?”
“Yes.”
The two ex-Slytherins were sitting in
Draco’s room after Quidditch practice, winding down from a long day
at school. Raven was laying on Draco’s bed reading one of her books
on photography, and Draco had just gotten back from his shower, still
bare-chested and studying himself in his full-length mirror.
“Well?” Raven prompted when Draco didn’t
immediately elaborate.
“Sex. Keep his mind on sex. He’ll be
a lot more receptive to any ideas concerning it if his mind is on it
all the time.”
Raven raised an eyebrow. “I see. And
how do you suppose you’ll do that? Although I don’t doubt his Gryffindor
tendencies to be rather dense, I think he’s going to notice that the
only thing you want to talk about is sex.”
“Did you just insult your beloved Harry?”
Draco smirked.
Raven threw a pillow at him. “Oh, honestly,
Draco. You know what I mean.”
Draco tossed the pillow back and nodded.
“Yes. Yes I do.”
Draco paced back and forth a few times
crossing his arms over his chest and nibbling on his right thumb. Suddenly
he stopped and turned to his girlfriend, starting the conversation as
if they hadn’t just been talking.
“Raven, we need to do something about
Potter.”
Raven gave him an odd look but only
said, “What exactly do you mean by that, love?”
Draco started to pace again. “Well,
I think it’s quite obvious that he’s starting to like you.”
Raven nodded. “I had noticed as much.”
“And it makes sense, really.”
Raven quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you
think so?”
“Well, he spends enough time around
you, and you’re probably the first girl to show an interest in him in
ages. And unless Potter’s an extreme closet case, I’m assuming
that he has no predisposition to think about guys in that sort of way.
He has, in fact, told me that he doesn’t think he is, though to me it
sounds like he might not be sure. But anyway, it’s becoming a problem,
especially if I’m trying to seduce him. And the fact that he likes you
is only making things more complicated.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve had the
same thoughts. I’ve actually been trying to distance myself a bit.”
Draco nodded, still pacing. “So…we need
to think of some way to get Harry to start noticing me as well.”
The two Slytherins thought in silence
for a moment before Raven’s eyes lit up and very devious smile played
on her lips. “Harry’s coming over today, right?” she asked.
Draco stopped pacing, a confused look
on his face as he turned to look at the girl. “Yes…actually, he’s coming
over in about twenty minutes.” He noticed the mischievous grin on the
other’s face. “Why do you ask? Have you thought of something?”
Raven tilted her head and sat up. “I’d
like to think so.”
“Well? Spit it out, woman.”
Raven leaned forward a little, beckoning
Draco closer with a finger. When he was close enough, Raven quickly
snaked out a hand, catching Draco by the neck and kissing him hard,
pulling him on top of her as she lay back onto the bed. Once Draco had
gotten over his surprise, they kissed for a few moments before the flaxen-haired
man pulled back, straddling her hips and holding himself up on his hands.
“I’m not sure I understand, love. How
is kissing you supposed to help me seduce Potter?”
But Raven only smiled roguishly. “You’ll
see. Just don’t take off my bra.” At Draco’s rather puzzled look, she
said, “People always want something they can’t have, Draco. Trust me.
You’ll know what to do when it happens.”
Draco just shook his head, but went
back to kissing his girlfriend, reaching down to snake a hand under
her shirt and caress her skin. He became so lost in touching her skin
and progressing the degenerating state of their undress that he was
quite startled when he heard Harry’s voice and the creaking of the door
opening as the Golden Boy stepped over the threshold.
***
When Theodore Nott answered Harry’s
knock on Number Three’s door, the Seeker wasn’t expecting to be allowed
in. But he was, and instead of being asked to wait in the foyer, he
was directed upstairs to Draco’s room. Feeling nervous walking around
Draco’s dorm unescorted, Harry ascended the stairs quickly, noticing
that the door to the blonde’s room was slightly ajar. He didn’t just
want to barge in, especially if Draco wasn’t out of his shower yet,
or…if he was still dressing. So, gathering his Gryffindor courage, he
knocked once on the door, unintentionally making it swing fully open,
calling Draco’s name.
“Draco?”
But what he saw, what most definitely
not what he expected.
He saw a topless Draco, leaning over
a black bra and panty-clad Raven, kissing her passionately on the bed.
Draco broke the kiss when Harry had said his name, and now looked at
Harry with a slightly shocked look, laced with the pink embarrassment
suddenly colouring his high cheeks. But that was all that Harry managed
to take in, before blushing like mad and moving to close the door.
“Oh god, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt-”
he stuttered as he averted his gaze and moved away from the door. Why
the hell does this always happen to me…
“Harry!” he heard Draco cry desperately.
“Harry!” The door opened to a heavily breathing Draco, who looked out
into the hall to find Harry, blushing madly and shuffling to the stairs.
“Malfoy-honestly, I’m sorry, I didn’t
mean to-”
“Oh, shut up, Potter, and get your soppy
Gryffindor ass in here.”
Draco’s careless manner stunned Harry
for a moment, and a moment was all Draco needed to reach out and grab
Harry by the collar and drag him into the room, closing the door behind
them.
Harry stood close to the door, avoiding
looking in the vicinity of the bed, where one hopefully unnoticeable
glance told Harry that Raven was still sitting there, legs crossed and
leaning back on her hands, still only wearing a bra and knickers. If
it were possible, Harry was sure that he would be blushing even harder.
“For Merlin sakes, Potter,
breathe. You’re as red as a tomato.”
Harry took an unsteady breath in, and
let it out. “Sorry, I just…this is rather embarrassing.” Without looking
at Raven, he said, “I’m sorry, Raven, I didn’t mean…”
But she interrupted. “Stop saying you’re
sorry, Harry. It’s fine. Honestly.”
Although it took him a minute, after
his quick thinking, Draco realised Raven was right. He had known exactly
what to do. And now all he had to do was see it through.
“Harry, why is it you won’t look at
Raven? Is she not pretty enough for you?”
Harry’s head snapped up to Draco, who
was standing near his desk. “I…er…no! Of course she’s pretty enough!
It’s just…” his eyes darted around a second (avoiding Raven, of course)
before fixing Draco with a confused expression. “I mean, you want
me to look at her? She’s…she’s your girlfriend. I shouldn’t
be looking at her like that…”
But Draco only smiled. “So maybe you
don’t think about girls that way, then?”
“What? You mean…no! I’m not…gay…I just
mean that she’s your girlfriend…wouldn’t it bother you if someone else
saw her like that?” Harry asked with puzzlement.
“I’m still here, you know.” Raven said
from the bed.
“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly, still
not looking at her.
Draco shrugged at Harry’s question.
“No, not really. I mean, she likes you; I know that. And it doesn’t
bother me. Besides, Harry, if you’re ever going to lose your virginity,
you’re going to have to get used to seeing people naked.” He was hoping
Harry wouldn’t notice the lack of ‘girls’ in his comment in lieu of
being startled by the revelation that he knew that Harry was still virgin.
The Gryffindor predictability didn’t let him down.
“What?” Harry squeaked. “How…how do
you know that?”
“That you’re still a virgin?” Harry
nodded, his eyes wide. Draco smiled. “I have my sources. It seems that
some of your little Gryffindor friends like to gossip about you a bit.”
Harry’s brows furrowed at that, and he almost started to look angry,
before Draco spoke again.
“So…why don’t you look at her, Harry.”
Draco suggested.
“Huh?”
“Raven. Look at her.” And he gestured
to the other person in the room.
“You want me to?” Harry asked
timidly, still unsure.
“You wouldn’t be standing here if I
didn’t.”
“I can’t believe I’m even thinking…”
Harry muttered to himself. Still without looking, he asked Raven, “Do
you mind, Raven?”
“Not if it’s you, Harry.”
Gulping nervously, Harry breathed deeply.
It wasn’t like he didn’t want to himself; it’s just…wasn’t
it wrong? Oh, fuck. If Malfoy and Raven said it was all right…fine.
So Harry turned his head to look over at Raven, who was only a few feet
away, still sitting on the bed, leaning back on her hands.
And it wasn’t some huge revelation,
like he thought it might be. It was…kind of what he’d been expecting,
but in a tangible form. He tried not to look too long, so it wouldn’t
seem as if he was staring. And as much as he found he liked the girl,
he kept the mantra, ‘She’s a friend, just a friend, she’s Malfoy’s girl,
friend friend friend friend friend,’ going in his head, so as not progress
his feelings any further. Or any lower.
Harry had been looking at Raven for
no more than five seconds when he was startled out of his thoughts by
Raven laughing and standing up. Grabbing her sweater and skirt, she
pulled them on and took the short steps to Harry, wrapping her arms
around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek.
“Oh Harry, you’re adorable.” Harry flushed
before she pulled away and stepped over to Draco, giving him a little
hug and a kiss on the cheek as well. “I ought to go. I’ll leave you
two to your potions studying. Have fun…” she called as she swayed out
of the room, leaving the two men alone.
“Bye love,” Draco called after her,
before turning to Harry. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Harry chuckled nervously, running a
hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess not. Although I still don’t understand
why you wanted me to.”
“Like I said, if you want to lose your
virginity, you better get used to what you might be seeing.”
Harry only grunted in response. It didn’t
quite seem like a sure-fire excuse, but Harry had long ago given up
trying to fully understand the blond.
Now that they were the only two in the
room, Harry took the chance to look around again. The room was basically
the same as the last time he’d been there, still swathed in black and
green, still an organised mess. In the corner to the left of the door,
was Draco’s desk, where Draco was currently standing, rifling through
various stacks of paper, looking for something.
It was then that Harry noticed that
Draco was still sans shirt, and that the candlelight from the desk illuminated
his pale skin in an unearthly golden but beautiful way. As Draco’s shoulders
moved, Harry watched, fascinated at the differences of the other’s man’s
torso. Did he look like that? Is that why Raven thought he was good-looking?
Harry glanced down at his own hands, and observed that his skin was
much darker that Draco’s…so why did Raven like him? Surely, he didn’t
look that good naked. Well, not that Harry had seen anything
else of Malfoy’s, but if he looked that good on top… Harry quickly pulled
himself out of that line of thought. But he knew that he himself wasn’t
all that good looking. Not even close to Draco. Raven hadn’t added it
into the painting she had done, but Harry had scars. Lots of scars.
Most of them were tiny, barely noticeable crosshatch marks on his back.
But there was this one…this one on his side…
Looking back up to Draco, he unconsciously
uttered his thoughts out loud. “If only I looked that good…”
“What?” Draco asked, knowing he heard
right, but asking just in case the meaning was different.
Oh, shit, did I just say that out
loud? “N-nothing.” Harry said, trying to cover up.
But Draco turned to fully face the darker
man. “No, you said something. Something about looking good.”
Harry shook his head nervously. “No.
I didn’t say anything like that.”
Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out
and grabbing a hold of Harry’s arm. He dragged the reluctant man over
to his full-length mirror on the right side of the room, so that they
were both standing in front of it; he then took his wand out of his
pocket and flicked his wrist, the mirror growing to twice its original
size in width. Throwing his wand on his bed next to Raven’s forgotten
book, he took a hold of his own belt, and started to undo it.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Harry sputtered.
“Undressing. You too, Gryffindor.”
“What?”
“Undress. Down to your boxers. C’mon,
it’s not that hard.”
“But…why?” Harry tried not to stare
as Draco bent to pull his trousers down.
Draco rolled his eyes again as he stood
and stepped out of his pants, kicking them away. “So we can look at
each other. I want to see why you think you don’t look good.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking…right?”
“Nope. Strip. Now.” Draco said.
Looking off to the side, Harry sighed.
He’s crazy. But, if you can look at Raven, you can do this, Potter.
Just cover you scar with your arm, and it’ll be over with quickly. He
set down his book bag before shrugging off his denim jacket, throwing
it on the bed and saying, “You’ve gone completely mad, Malfoy.”
Malfoy grinned brightly. “But you’re
complying, now aren’t you?”
“Shut up.” Kicking of his shoes, he
bent down and slipped off his socks as well. Then he turned, so that
his right side was showing to the Adonis, and pulled his sweatshirt
and undershirt off in one fell swoop, tossing those on the bed as well.
Then he unbuttoned his jeans, undoing the zipper, and after a quick
calming breath, he slipped those off, kicking them aside. Keeping his
left arm glued in front of him and holding it there by the wrist, he
turned towards Draco, biting his lower lip in nervousness since he couldn’t
run his hands through his hair.
Draco watched in rapt attention as Harry
stripped in front of him. Only the fear that the other man would see
if he had become aroused stopped his groin from outwardly reacting.
Otherwise…Draco was almost scared to admit that seeing the Gryffindor
so…vulnerable… was egging on his aching need for contact with the man.
It hadn’t really helped that the only reason he wasn’t getting satisfied
at that moment was because of Harry, looking at it from either the immediate
set of circumstances (Harry walking in on him and Raven), or the more
long-term set, which involved him shagging Potter senseless just as
soon as he could get the emerald-eyed man to get comfortable enough
around him. And as far as the current circumstances were concerned…Raven
was evil. But so smart, and so devious…she knew Draco
well enough to know that he would figure out what to do when Harry ‘accidentally’
walked in on the two Slytherins progressively making out. And even if
it might not have been exactly what she would have thought…it was working,
and that’s what counted.
Now, standing next to each other, clad
only in boxers—Draco in black and Harry in dark blue—they turned to
the mirror.
“Ok,” Draco said, “Why don’t you think
you look good? Are you comparing yourself to me? Because that’s not
the way to go, Potter. Sure, I look good, but you do too. Just in a…different
way.”
Harry scowled at Draco’s reflection.
“Oh, that’s comforting, Malfoy.”
“Alright, look. It’s all got to do with
taste. We both have roughly the same physique, the same build, although
you’re a bit more muscular around the shoulders, see?” the Seeker said,
gesturing to Harry’s reflection. “Some people like that. But we seem
to look so different because of our colouring. I’m really pale and flawless,
with light blonde hair. You, on the other hand, are more tanned, with
random freckles and dark brown hair.”
“I have eyes, Malfoy. And my
hair’s black, not brown.”
“Sorry, black then. Like I said, it
all depends on what you like. Some people like the brooding, darker
man, while others like the blond aristocratic one.” And Draco tossed
his blond locks out of his eyes.
“I see you’ve never lost your flair
for shoving your aristocracy in other’s faces.” Harry deadpanned.
“Oh, c’mon, Harry. That’s not the point.
What I’m trying to say is that we’re both good-looking blokes, and we
could have anyone we wanted. All it takes is a little confidence.”
“Confidence, hmm?” Harry said mockingly,
glaring at his own reflection.
“Yes. Like you. You’re standing
all wrong. It’s one thing to be the shy type, because some girls like
that. But even if they do, they don’t want a pussy for a man. So stand
up straight! And drop your arms to your sides.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “No!”
Draco looked at him, puzzled. “Why not?
It’s just us two in here, no one else will see you practicing.”
“No…I just…don’t want to move my arms.”
“Why not?”
“That’s not important. I just don’t
want to.”
“Okay, now you’ve got my curiosity piqued.
What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing.”
“Bollocks, Potter. What’s wrong? Why
won’t you show me?”
“I just…don’t want to, okay?”
Draco frowned, but the next second,
he had a mischievous glint in his eye. “I know how to make you loosen
up…”
“What?” was all Harry got in before
Draco attacked his sides, trying to wrestle the other man.
Harry squeaked in shock, moving his
right arm to defend himself, and his left arm up to push Draco away.
Unfortunately, that left his side wide open for Draco to see.
“What on earth…Harry, what’s this?”
he kneeled and reached a hand out to touch Harry’s abdomen, just above
his boxers, where a large, serrated scar could be seen; whiter against
Harry’s bronzed skin, blemishing the dusting of soft dark hair that
lay there. It ran from near his navel, all the way over to the edge
of his pelvis.
“Don’t!” Harry panicked, grabbing Draco’s
wrist, holding it in place just as the pale fingers brushed the blemished
skin.
“Potter…Harry…who did this to you? How
did you get it?” Draco looked up with worried eyes.
Harry sighed. “It’s a war wound, Malfoy.”
He muttered bitterly. He hadn’t noticed how worried the other had looked;
too wrapped up in his own swelling anguish as memories he had managed
to suppress for the past few weeks suddenly came back, full force.
Draco relaxed his hand in Harry’s grip,
which allowed him to press his palm flat against Harry’s left side,
right over the old wound. Harry jumped slightly at the contact, but
allowed it, dropping his own hand to his side. Circling his thumb over
the skin, Draco stood.
“Who did it? Do you know?”
Harry’s eyes were lowered, but they
moved up to look at Draco’s face as his grey eyes watched his thumb’s
ministrations.
“Yes.” Harry said lowly. “Your father.”
Silver irises flashed up to deep jade,
both full of immense pain and remorse. In an unexpected and impulsive
move, Draco kneeled down again, leaning forward and brushing his lips
over the jagged line that his thumb had been circling. “I’m sorry,”
he whispered against the skin.
Even though his stomach lurched nervously
at the gesture, Harry grabbed a hold of the other man’s shoulder, urging
him to stand back up. “Malfoy…” he started once the pale man was on
his feet again, “Draco…it’s not your fault. It happened later. Just
before the last battle.”
“That was when he died, wasn’t it? My
father?” Draco wouldn’t admit it, but his vision was getting fuzzy around
the edges.
Harry’s features contorted into pained
grief. “Yes. I…I killed him.”
Draco’s breath hitched, and he blinked,
the unacknowledged tears falling down his cheeks. Harry immediately
lifted a hand and brushed a tear away with his thumb. “Oh gods, Draco,
please don’t cry…” Harry whispered.
Draco let out an unsteady breath. “No…it’s
not…” Draco caught Harry’s gaze again; his eyes were blazing silver
fury, a lightning storm surrounded by water. Fiercely, he said, “He
should have been killed. After all he had done. And…it had to be you.
You had to do it. I know. I understand. It couldn’t have worked out
any other way. Things happened they way they happened. Whether by reason,
by chance or by choice. Like it was my choice to take the Dark Mark…”
and he lifted up his left limb for Harry to see the underside of the
forearm.
Harry looked down to see a faint, but
pink mark in the shape of the Dark Mark on Draco’s forearm. It wasn’t
quite a scar…just a leftover etching of the grotesque tattoo that used
to be there. “…And to keep this scar as a reminder.” Draco smiled wanly.
“Just like you kept yours, but you got yours by chance, not by choice.
And that’s worse. You shouldn’t have that scar. But I should have this
one. I deserve to remember why I’ve changed. Why I am now the way I
am. You, though…you shouldn’t have to remember that. How much you sacrificed…”
The blond chuckled softly, looking down at his upturned arm.
“Raven and Blaise have one too. Along
with anyone else still left in Azkaban.” He suddenly looked up at Harry.
“Do you know how I knew you had finally killed Him, Harry?” The Gryffindor,
afraid of speaking, only shook his head.
Draco took his hand briefly from Harry’s
side to brush his fingers along his own scar, before returning it to
Harry’s. Harry lifted his right hand to take a hold of the ex-Death
Eater’s arm, rubbing his thumb against the scarred skin. He looked to
Draco, who had closed his eyes briefly at the contact.
Opening his grey eyes again Draco said,
“It bled. It oozed poison and blood, until all that was left was this.
This faint carving. I felt sick for days, while it all flushed out of
my system. It was black and green and red, and it happened to all of
us; Raven, Blaise and I…at the same time. That’s how we knew. We knew
that He was finally dead, and that you killed him.”
Harry’s breath hitched as Draco finished,
and he found that his own vision was blurring. Using his left hand,
he slipped his glasses off and tossed them on the bed, rubbing at his
eyes to rid them of the obtrusive fluid. He locked gazes with Draco
for a moment, before lifting the Adonis’ left arm and pressing his lips
to the scar, returning the Slytherin’s gesture.
“I’m glad that this is the only mark
he left on you,” he breathed.
Without a second thought, Draco moved
his arm through Harry’s hand and around his neck, and slipped the one
from his side to around his waist, pulling Harry into a hug, burying
his hand in Harry’s hair and his face in Harry’s neck. Acting on impulse,
Harry did likewise to Draco, holding him just as fiercely. They couldn’t
think about how it was supposed to be awkward, because it wasn’t. It
couldn’t be, not any more, and it didn’t feel that way either. For a
moment that seemed like an eternity, both men stood there, locked in
an equal embrace, forgetting entirely about their past history yet reliving
it all at the same time, both unsure of what seemed to be a monumental
step in their relationship.
Draco was the first to move; taking
in a shuddering breath, he pulled back slightly and looked into Harry’s
wide viridescent eyes.
“Oh, Harry…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to suddenly grab onto you like that…”
But Harry, who was bewildered yet strangely
centred, shook his head. “No Draco…it’s fine. I…” But Harry found that
he had nothing else to say. It was fine. And that was that. He felt
like…everything that could be said didn’t need to be. Those gestures,
the embrace…that was all that was needed.
And while Draco felt the same way, he
also felt something else. Something greater than what he had been feeling
around the dark-haired man recently, and it scared him. It wasn’t just
friendship; he knew that. Friendship was what he had been sensing between
them the last few weeks or so, ever since the night Harry had first
modelled for Raven. Since then, they had grown closer as companions,
almost in secret, gaining more knowledge about each other, and the selves
they had never been able to explore by themselves. Draco had become
more emotional, or rather, more open to let at least Harry and Raven
know what he was feeling, much to his chagrin most of the time. Harry
had also become more open, but had begun to learn about his wilder side;
intellectually exploring things and gaining more and more Draco-esque
qualities than life had previously allowed him. And Draco was the one
leading him on that journey. Raven had just opened the door of opportunity.
So now Draco had to face these increasing
emotions; this ardour that he hadn’t expected to ever feel towards the
dark-haired man, let alone anyone other than Raven. But as much as it
scared him, he knew what he felt. He wasn’t afraid to admit it, even.
He was in love with Harry Potter.
Admitting it even in his head made strange
and beautiful feelings swell inside of him. It was different from when
he realised he loved Raven. That had been gradual; she was now a permanent
fixture in his life, and he had slowly come to realise that all the
things he liked about her, he loved about her. But with Harry…it just
hit him. Just right now, when he kissed Harry’s scar, and he had allowed
Harry to see him cry, and watched as Harry kissed his own scar, and
when he impulsively hugged him…he had been so dazed by his revelation
that he sputtered utter nonsense when he pulled away from the embrace.
And he knew it, that he loved Harry,
without a doubt. It was undeniable. But he also knew that he shouldn’t
feel this way. Not in the sense that it was wrong or bad to feel that
way about Harry, but that it couldn’t last. He loved Raven too. He was
going to marry her and they were going to have lots of Slytherin children…right?
Right.
Which is why Draco was scared. Because
he now realised just what Raven had been trying to get him to realise.
That Harry needed him. Him; Draco.
And what Harry was only beginning to realise, even though Draco could
plainly see it by looking into Harry’s eyes, was that Harry needed someone
to understand him completely and love him thoroughly. And the only person
who was capable of doing that was Draco.
But because of that, it couldn’t happen.
Because Raven and Draco would eventually get married…and where would
that leave Harry?
Alone.
And Draco couldn’t bear the thought
of that. Loneliness.
So, when the time came to tell Harry
about his feelings, to let him share and be enveloped in Raven’s and
Draco’s love, as he so needed, Draco knew he would have to be up front.
To make it clear to Harry what he was getting into. That while Draco
and Raven would love him always, physically, it couldn’t last. That
was, if Harry wanted to get into it at all.
“Draco? What’s wrong?” Harry’s soft
voice filtered through Draco’s whirling thoughts to his brain, startling
him slightly.
“I…nothing, Harry. Something just occurred
to me, is all.” Draco finally looked away from Harry, painful as it
was, and turned to pick up his trousers and put them back on.
“What?” Harry asked, sharply noticing
how bereft he felt when Draco left his arms.
“I…I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk
about it. I…need some time to think.” When Draco turned back around,
Harry stepped right up to him and placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder,
giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Draco, I…god, this sounds kind of an
odd thing to say to you, but…if you need to talk about whatever it is,
I’ll listen.”
Draco smiled softly, endeared by Harry’s
offer. “Thank you, Harry. When I’m ready…I’ll come to you.”
Harry beamed, and Draco felt his heart
melt and clench a little more. Suddenly feeling very uncharacteristically
embarrassed, although Harry wouldn’t know why, Draco cleared his throat
and said, “So, how about those potions notes?”
***
Wednesday, 8 October 2003, Mid
Afternoon ***
“C’mon, you two! Smile!”
“Oh shove off, love. You’ve been taking
pictures of us all afternoon.”
“Raven, you should know that I hate
cameras.”
Raven pulled the camera away from her
face, a wry smile on her lips. “They why’d you agree to let me take
pictures of you?”
The two men lounging on the grass locked
eyes for a moment; Draco with an amused smirk, and Harry with the stinging
realisation of being caught in a lie he wasn’t aware he told.
Raven smiled winningly. “I thought so.”
Draco let out a long-suffering sigh,
smiling a brilliantly fake smile up at Raven. Harry ducked his head
in embarrassment.
Raven rolled her eyes, but snapped the
picture anyway. Plopping down beside Harry, she pulled his chin up with
her forefinger. “What’s made you so camera-shy, love? If you’re like
this now, I’d hate to see how you are three days from now. Naked, if
you don’t remember. Though I thought we’d already sorted all that out
last time…”
Harry looked at her through his fringe.
“Try talking to Mr. Malfoy over here.”
Draco whipped his head around. “Me?
What do I have to do with it?”
“Let’s see,” Harry mused, looking to
the sky. “You laughed at me when Lockhart forced me to take pictures
with him, when I already didn’t think I really deserved any special
attention, not to mention your reputable relationship with
Rita Skeeter, who became, mostly, my own personal paparazzi, thank you
very much.”
“What? Oh,” Draco laughed, “Beetle Skeeter.
That’s right. I nearly forgot! Information-starved animagus, she was.
Is. Whatever.” He dismissed the issue with a lazy wave of his hand.
“Rita Skeeter?” Raven asked. “That reporter
woman?” She raised her camera again and adjusted her focus on a witch
walking into the Medi-Arts building.
“Yeah,” Harry answered. “She hounded
me constantly, twisting everything around, trying to deface me. And
let’s not forget Draco’s love for giving her a few false stories of
his own.” Harry looked to Draco with a ‘and I won’t ever forget all
that shit, you prat’ look.
Draco appealed sweetly to the man sitting
next to him. “Oh, Merlin, Potter. That was nine years ago.
Haven’t you forgiven me yet?”
“Do you deserve my forgiveness?” Harry
countered back.
Draco winced. “Ouch,” he muttered. “Harry,”
he tried again, “things were different then. I hated you. I actually
like you now.”
“Jeeze, thanks.”
-click-
The men looked over to Raven, who was
just lowering her camera from its pointed view in their direction.
“Thanks, love,” was Draco’s caustic
remark.
“What? You guys were arguing. It was
cute.”
“I’ll show you cute,” Draco threatened
as he launched himself across Harry’s lap, trying to snatch the camera
from Raven’s hands.
“Hey!” she squealed, jerking out of
reach and rolling out of the way. Standing, she ran barefoot in the
opposite direction, across the grass and cobblestone of the courtyard,
her dark hair and robes flying behind her.
Harry cried out in protest against Draco’s
heavy bodily assault on his lap, squeaking (in a very manly way, of
course) when Draco unceremoniously pushed himself off Harry and bounded
after Raven.
“Harry! Help me catch her!” Draco laughed
over his shoulder.
Harry laughed in return, pushing himself
up and taking off after the elusive ex-Slytherin girl as well.
***
Across the courtyard, Seamus, Ron and
Hermione came out of the Mixing Chamber, talking amicably.
Shouts and laughter echoed around the circle of buildings, and their
attention diverted away from the conversation and to the line of three
running just yonder.
“Is that…Harry?” Hermione asked, watching
the other trio dash around campus.
“Chasing after Malfoy and his girl?”
Seamus said. “Yep, I’d say that’s them.”
“What are they doing?” Ron
asked in bewilderment.
“Playing tag?” Hermione offered.
Seamus’ face scrunched up and he shook
his head a bit. “Nah, they be chasing after each other, I reckon.”
Hermione and Ron’s eyes met. “You know
what, Seam?” Ron said before setting off again, “I reckon you’re right.”
***
After a much-too-long run around the
courtyard and buildings, Draco finally caught Raven around the waist,
whirling her around so that she landed half-on top of him when they
fell to the ground behind Number One.
“Oof! Gods, you’re heavy!” Draco complained,
trying to catch his breath.
“Oh, shut up, Draco!” Raven replied,
elbowing him in her efforts to get out of his grasp and playfully push
more weight onto him.
“Harry, Harry! Take the bloody camera!”
the blond gasped.
Harry, who was trying to stifle his
laughter along with his slightly laboured breathing, leaned down to
wrestle the small piece of machinery from the girl’s hands.
“No! You can’t have it!” Raven protested
jovially.
She kicked and screamed like a petulant
child, trying to keep Harry away from her, while Draco only held her
down from behind tighter. Harry finally got past her poor defences and
managed to sit down right on top of her, pinning her hips down, grabbing
the camera from her easily and turning it back on her.
“Smile!” he said mockingly, taking a
few pictures of his own. He managed to get a couple of Raven turning
her face away and putting her hand up to block the view, another of
Draco laughing from underneath her, and another of them settling down,
she turning her face up to smile at her captor, and he smirking down
at her.
Harry both smiled and winced at the
affection passing between the two. It was sweet, but it still reminded
Harry of his traitorous thoughts towards his new friends. He cursed
in his mind, moving to get off of them. “Nice camera,” Harry complimented.
“Thanks,” Raven replied as she sat up.
“It’s actually one of Colin’s.”
“Really?”
Raven nodded as Draco stood, demanding,
“Let me see that.”
Harry handed it over, and Draco inspected
the slightly foreign object with narrowed eyes, as he once might have
inspected a nasty insect used for a potion.
“How do you make it work?”
Harry rolled his eyes and moved over
to Draco’s side, pointing out the shutter button, the film advancement
lever, and the manual focus.
Draco looked at Harry suspiciously.
“How do you know so much about cameras?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Raven
chimed from the ground.
Harry shrugged. “Well, I was
raised by muggles. When Dudley got one for Christmas one year, I had
to listen to him drone on and on about how to use it whenever his friends
came over. I’m not sure why he bothered telling anyone; he wouldn’t
let anyone else touch the stupid thing. He broke it a few months later.”
“Dudley…the ridiculously fat cousin,
right?” Draco asked, looking back at the camera in his hands.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
Draco shrugged. “I’m observant.”
Harry was still puzzled, so Raven said,
“We…were told a little about your relatives when we were in Sanctuary.”
“Huh,” Harry grunted in a non-committal
way.
Draco looked up into black framed in
green. “Does that bother you? That we know that?”
Harry shrugged. “It’s in the past. I
haven’t heard anything about them since I was seventeen, and I really
don’t care to.”
“It sounds like they were terrible to
you,” Raven murmured.
“It could have been worse.”
“I think it made you humble,” Draco
put in. The two men shared a look for a moment, a strange acceptance
passing between them. No matter what our heritage and upbringing,
we are who we are now because we want to be. We overcame.
“You need to find something to focus
against the background,” said Raven, breaking the tension and standing
up on Draco’s other side.
Draco raised the camera to his face.
“Well, love, why don’t you go stand over there in front of the trees
for me then?”
Raven stepped away from the blond. “Oh
no. There’s a reason I’m always on the other side of the camera, Draco.”
“Then why’d you let me take a picture
of you just a minute ago?” Harry asked with a wry smile.
Raven paused for a fraction of a minute,
realising she got caught in her own trap. But she still protested. “Draco
was holding me down, though! What was I supposed to do?”
“Go on, get in front of the camera,”
Draco prompted.
“But I-” Raven started, before Harry
bodily moved her in front of Draco and stepped away.
“There ya go.”
Raven glared at her boyfriend. “I hate
you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, love. Now, smile!”
Instead of smiling, Raven grabbed the
neck of her red jumper and pulled it up over her mouth and nose. “No,”
came her muffled voice.
Draco sighed and took a few pictures
anyway. “Harry, why don’t you go into the picture with her. Maybe then
she’ll loosen up.”
“What?” Harry looked at Draco with shock
in his eyes.
Draco lowered the camera and sent an
insistent look to the other man’s green eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped
over to Raven’s side and put a hesitant arm around her shoulders. Raven
took her jumper off her face and relaxed into Harry, smiling up at him.
Draco took another picture.
In fact, he took a lot more; before
Raven finally snagged the camera back from him, only to load a new role
of film into it and snap even more pictures of the two guys, much to
their chagrin.
***
Thursday, 9 October 2003, Early
Afternoon
***
“Luna, does this aura-based diagnostic
conclusion make sense to you?” Harry asked of his table companion.
The blonde looked up from her latest
scribblings for her father’s magazine, her oddly-shaped earrings glinting
in the torchlight.
Taking the paper from Harry, she skimmed
the words, her face becoming thoughtful. “Yes, I suppose so, but are
aura-readings really that predictable?”
“Predictable? What do you mean?”
“Well, I think it’s quite obvious,”
said Luna serenely, “that your conclusion is correct. How else could
it be?”
Harry was still trying to decide if
she was insulting his intelligence, or if she was just dismissing the
difficult nature of aura-reading when someone stepped up to the table.
“Hi Harry.”
“Oh, hey, Draco.”
Draco turned his head and took in Luna’s
pale hair and eyes. “Loony Lovegood. How are you doing?”
Luna turned her protuberant eyes on
Draco, and they lost some of their dreamy-quality. “Not quite so loony
anymore, but fine, thank you.” She returned to her work for The
Quibbler.
Draco raised his eyebrows. Harry rolled
his eyes in annoyance.
“Draco…”
“Didn’t mean to insult,” Draco said
glibly, ignoring the warning. “Harry, would you like to study with me,
or are you and Lovegood here attached at the hip?”
“Er…”
“Go ahead, Harry. I’m almost finished
here, and then I need to go to the owlery.”
“Okay. Thanks for your help, Luna.”
She only waved him away, scrawling like
mad on her parchment.
Harry quickly gathered his things, following
Draco to their usual table near the back.
“I didn’t realise you and Lovegood were
friends,” said Draco as he sat down.
Sitting down himself, Harry said, “Since
sixth year, mostly. I knew her in fifth, but thought she was a little
odd, myself. Didn’t really get to know her until her and Neville started
dating a few years ago.”
“Longbottom and Lovegood? Hmm… Well,
I hope they’re doing wonderfully.”
“They are, and don’t sound like you’re
so interested, Draco. I know you don’t give a crap about them, any more
than you give a crap about Ron and Hermione.”
Draco snickered and nodded. “Yes, yes.
You’re right. I don’t care. But I’ll try not to insult any of them on
your behalf. At least not in front of you.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “You are an absolutely
horrible person, you know that, Draco Malfoy?”
“I take pride in it, actually.”
Harry chose to keep his mouth shut,
falling into silence with Draco as they got to work on their various
projects.
A heavy book slamming on the table between
them a minute later surprised them both out of their collective silence.
Jumping back, they both looked up to see Raven, looking smug and authoritative.
“Just wanted to drop this by for you
two to read. Thought you might find it helpful.”
Harry’s eyes were glued to the book,
and he flushed nearly scarlet, recognising it immediately. Draco frowned
and took the book, flipping through it with something akin to confusion
lacing his features.
When he looked up at Raven with bemusement,
she leaned down close to Draco, whispering, “Chapter thirty might be
of some…special assistance.” And with a wink, she whirled around and
walked away.
Draco slammed the book shut and shouted
at her retreating back, “Just because we haven’t had sex yet, doesn’t
mean I don’t know what I’m doing!”
Harry simultaneously found himself asphyxiating,
turning redder than he thought possible, and eagerly he buried himself
under the table.
Draco looked over. “Harry, what are
you doing?”
“Hiding from embarrassment. I can’t
believe you just said that!”
“What? It’s true…Raven and I haven’t-”
“Draco Malfoy!”
Draco’s attention was now averted upwards,
to the snarling face of the librarian, Madam Peabody. Normally a mild-tempered,
sweet older lady, her current countenance could only spell harm and
sure death for the young aristocrat before her.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked innocently.
“How dare you disrupt the sanctity
of the library with your crude and audacious comments! And—is that Harry
Potter beneath the table?” Harry slowly crawled out, his face still
flushed, and the look of knowing one’s imminent doom written all over
his visage. “Yes, and you. I can’t believe you’re hanging around
with such a crude young man. Now both of you, out!”
Draco frowned at Madam Peabody’s obvious
insult, but one slightly murderous look from Harry sent him packing
his things quietly, following Harry out, the book Raven bought under
his arm. The other patrons either snickered or watched wide-eyed as
the two men made their way out.
Once they were outside, Draco was going
to suggest reconvening at Harry’s, since it was closer, when a sudden
snort of laughter escaped Harry’s throat, and the dark young wizard
started chuckling uncontrollably.
“Potter? Have you gone mad?”
Harry shook his head and wiped his eyes
behind his glasses. “It’s just…Madam Peabody…do you think she was channelling
Madam Pince for a moment there? I’ve never seen her so…”
“Scary?” Draco pitched in, a chuckle
rising in his own throat.
Harry nodded. “Hm-hmm. God…I know it’s
not really funny, because I’m still as embarrassed as all hell, but
the look on your face…”
Draco smirked. “At least I wasn’t hiding
under the table like some silly little schoolgirl.”
Harry shrugged and replied as if disgusted,
“What do you expect when you shout something like that in public?”
“I expect you to question me about my
numerous sexual exploits up in your room, and then pick over this book
with me, in hopes of finding out why Raven gave it to us to
read.” Draco pointedly said, taking purposeful steps towards Number
One. Harry didn’t need to know that Draco already had a good idea why
Raven had given them the book, he just needed to read the book, and
become familiar with what he should have been doing this entire time;
getting laid.
“Now, come on, Potter, this book won’t
be getting read by itself.”
“Draco! Good lord, have you no shame?”
“Of course not! What do you take me
for? A bloody Gryffindor?” Draco turned back and smiled devilishly at
Harry, who was trailing behind him.
“But what about our homework?”
“Screw homework. This is much
more educational!”
Harry sighed in defeat, following Draco
into Number One and up to his room.
“I really don’t want to know about your
sexual exploits, Draco,” Harry said as he set his stuff down on top
of his trunk, removing his robes to reveal his muggle clothing.
“Good, ‘cause I’m not talkin’ about
them.” Draco set his things down as well, flopping down on the edge
of Harry’s bed with the book on his lap. Kicking off his shoes, he tucked
his feet beneath him and grabbed Harry’s hand, dragging him down onto
the bed beside him. “Okay, let’s crack this thing open. Nice cover,
by the way. This is muggle, no?”
Harry spared a disparaging look for
the off-white cover, elaborately but artistically illustrated with over-lapping
pictures of bodies intertwined; male and female mingling with and without
their own gender. A Fully Illustrated Guide to Sex of All Forms
was written in a scarlet, scrawling script across the top.
“Yeah, it is,” he answered.
Draco opened the book, flipping to the
table of contents. “Wow…quite extensive… And it’s broken up into three
sections: Tools and Toys, Hetero-Erotica, and Homo-Erotica…”
“Draco, we really don’t have to look
at this…”
“Don’t be silly, of course we do. Remember?
You’ve got to get used to what you’ll be seeing and doing when you start
having sex. I won’t forgive myself if I find out your first time was
an embarrassing experience. Now let’s see…should we start from the beginning
or go on to chapter thirty, like Raven suggested? Chapter thirty…chapter
thirty…” Draco murmured under his breath, thumbing through the pages,
stopping to look at pictures that caught his eye, and so on.
Harry blushed awkwardly, countering,
“Who says it’ll be embarrassing? And why do you care about my sex life
so much anyhow?”
“We’re friends, you pillock. I’m supposed
to care.” He stopped at a particularly interesting illustration including
a male and female using a few different devices such as harnesses and
handcuffs. “Ooh, look at this one. It looks more like muggle torture…are
you sure this is a sexual position?” Draco asked, cocking his head sideways
as if that might help the picture make more sense.
Harry barely glanced over before replying
in a mock tone, “How would I know. I’m the virgin
here, remember?”
Draco looked over to Harry and bumped
his shoulder. “Oh, honestly, Potter. You’re not going to learn anything
if you don’t look at the bloody book. Now tell me, what do you think?”
Harry held in his breath and looked
at the picture.
“Looks painful,” he said.
Draco nodded. “Yes, I think so too…though
I suppose some people might be into that. Could be interesting.”
“Sure,” said Harry, disinterested.
“Oh, and this one…” Draco said, backing
up a few chapters, “This one is pretty common, Potter, so pay attention.”
Harry reluctantly looked back over,
and saw a woman riding a man, her head thrown back in pleasure. He couldn’t
believe he was actually looking at this book…
“Now it says here, to ‘be careful
about the movement in this position…it’s much different than when the
man is on top, seeing as the angle and the range for movement are more
limited and the woman has more control over the pacing.’ Hmm…good
to know. Moving on…”
The book now had Harry’s rapt attention;
though he’d be loathe to admit it. Draco kept up his one-man commentary.
“And they have tips on keeping an orgasm
at bay, making it last longer and be more fulfilling. Wow… Tantric Sex…
I’ll have to look into that…”
Harry blushed furiously.
Then there was the section on homo-erotica.
“Ah, chapter thirty…” Draco murmured,
as he turned the page. “Homo-erotica? I wonder why…” But he never finished
his sentence, which left Harry to wonder what he was going to say. However,
Draco started reading the introduction to the third section before he
could ask about it.
“Homosexual sex is, in it’s base
form, no different than heterosexual sex; two or more people engaging
in foreplay, oral sex and/or intercourse. But its experience can be
an entirely new and exciting thing, for two reasons, which are inter-related.
1) The bodies of men and women are,
by design, meant to fit together. And in a very biological sense, this
will always be true. But that does not destroy the right of two individuals
of the same gender to have sexual relations with each other, and there
are ways around the ‘normal’ idea of sex that heterosexuality contains,
that are just as pleasurable.
2) Women and men know their bodies
better than anyone, and therefore, can please their partner with the
first-hand knowledge of how something might feel. However, personal
choice can influence this experience just as many other things can,
including previous experiences with a particular technique or position.
This section discusses and illustrates
the intimacies between couples and multiples of individuals of the same
sex, giving tips and guides on how to make one’s experience much more
pleasurable, even if one is unsure where to start.”
Draco looked up at a red-faced Harry.
“Sounds interesting. Do you want to… Harry, are you all right? You look
a little flushed.”
Harry took a deep breath before mumbling,
“I’m sorry Draco, I just… I’m having a hard time processing it all.”
“Oh? Well, do you want to start back
at the beginning, or-”
“No…that’s fine. I guess… Is sex really
that complicated?”
Draco looked blankly at his friend.
Then he chuckled. “No, Harry. It’s not, really. Most of this stuff is
kind of instinctual, you know? You just do…what comes naturally, I guess.
Different people have different tastes, so it depends on who you’re
with.”
“Oh.”
“Better now?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”
Draco studied his profile for a moment
before asking, “Is there anyone you fancy, Harry?”
Harry immediately started shifting in
his seat. “No…not really…”
Draco smiled. “You liar. I can tell.
Now who is it?”
“I told you, no one.”
Draco kept pressing. “No, you can’t
fool me, Harry. It’s Raven, isn’t it?”
Harry stiffened, if only for a second,
but a second was all Draco needed, and he pounced on it.
“Ha! I knew it!” He gave Harry a firm
pat on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Harry. I don’t mind.”
“Y-you don’t?”
Draco shook his head. “Not really, no.
I know there’s no possible way you could steal her away from me, and
I’m not just talking about your lack of gumption to do so, either. No
one can resist me,” Draco boasted, grinning.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You are the
most conceited ass I know, Malfoy.”
Draco put a reassuring arm around Harry.
“Good. Maybe some of it will rub off on you. But seriously, I don’t
blame you, and I’ve been suspicious about it for a while now. She’s
a very beautiful woman, and she has a very magnetic personality. I think
if most men were blind, they’d still want her. It’s just a good thing
most of the guys around here are taken, and know that I’d hex them to
useless examples of the male order if they tried anything. And that
was even before we started dating.”
“That’s so reassuring, Draco.”
“Hey, like I said, don’t worry. With
you, I don’t mind. Not sure why.” He shrugged. “Now, back to this book.”
Harry let out a breath, feeling rather
resigned to his role as a non-threatening male.
Draco turned the page to an illustration
of two men, one on his back and the other kneeling over him.
“Looks no different than a man and a
woman,” Draco commented.
“I think a different hole is used, though,
Draco.” Harry stated wryly, looking over his shoulder.
Draco looked up. “And I thought we didn’t
know anything about sex?”
Harry blushed. “I don’t. I just…assumed,
is all.”
“Uh-huh…” Draco hummed, unconvinced.
“Says here that ‘proper preparation for entry is required when two
men decide to have intercourse either involving their own penises, fingers
or some of the toys mentioned in section one. Lubrication is the key,
and most shops containing erotic goods carry all assortments of lubrication,
including flavoured varieties.’ Hmm…flavoured? Like strawberry
or something?” Draco asked, musing out loud. Harry just stayed silent,
unsure of what to say, if anything.
“It’s really too bad these aren’t wizard’s
drawings…at least I’d be able to tell better what they were doing,”
said Draco, undeterred by Harry’s silence.
Draco flipped the page; an illustration
of one man kneeling in front of the other, while the one behind obviously
penetrated the other, both of their faces contorted in pleasure.
“What do you think of this one, Harry?
Kind of animalistic, though I think I saw something similar in the other
section.”
Harry blushed again, the stark reality
of what he was looking at and who he was with sending a pleasurable
scare through him. No! Don’t think about it…it’ll only make it worse.
Once was enough. A fluke. It doesn’t need to happen again, especially
when Draco’s sitting right next to you!
Harry shifted away slightly. “Yeah,”
he garbled. “Animalistic. But…it looks all right. Um…they make it look
like it feels good.”
Draco lifted a pale eyebrow. “It’s a
drawing, Harry. Of course it’s going to look like it feels good.” He
snickered. “I bet you’d be the one on bottom.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “I would
not!”
“Yes you would. I bet you’d be the little
submissive virgin, wouldn’t you?” Draco taunted.
Harry barely took a beat to make a comeback.
“And I bet you couldn’t take it up the arse, you’d be squealing
too much like a nancy-boy,” Harry countered.
Draco’s eyes narrowed to calculative
slits. “Is that a challenge, Potter?”
Harry blinked blankly for a moment before
saying carefully, “Not unless you want it up the arse, Malfoy.” Did
I just say that?
Draco smirked, amusement in his eyes.
“Perhaps another time, Potter. I’m educating myself.”
Harry sagged in embarrassed relief and
rolled his eyes at the same time, shaking his head at Draco’s brutal
audacity and ability to glide smoothly in and out of any topic of conversation.
Draco turned the page to a diagram illustrating
the inside of the male reproductive system, which pointed out the prostate
as a point of pleasure for the male, if the proper pressure is applied
from within the rectum.
“Oh…so that’s why it would feel good
to have something shoved up your ass,” Draco mused, intrigued, shrugging
off his robes.
“Draco… Jesus…” Harry sighed,
flopping back on the bed.
“What?” Draco asked, standing to put
his robes by his bag and to flop, stomach down, on the bed next to Harry.
“I mean…I always wondered, and now I know.”
“But still, must you be so vocal about
everything?”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Would you
like to know how vocal I could get?”
Harry looked over at his friend with
disbelief in his eyes. Staring a moment at the mischievous glint in
the grey, he finally turned away, muttering in exasperation, “I don’t
want to know…”
“Pity,” was Draco’s soft reply.
“Why?” Harry asked, moving onto his
side, facing Draco. “You actually want to do something with a guy?”
Draco shrugged. “Depends on what this
book says. I’m not primarily partial to guys, though, so…” Don’t
let him think you’re not interested, Malfoy, but don’t scare him away
either… “Either way, I think it’d be an interesting experience.
Sex is an interesting experience.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in question,
but decided to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being. He and
Draco turned back to the book, looking at the pictures in interest or
confusion, raising their eyebrows here, or swallowing embarrassedly
there, Draco reading the captions and tips while Harry looked on in
silence.
They were just sniggering at a rather
interesting picture of three girls together when there was a knock on
the door.
“Quick!” Harry whispered, “Hide the
book!”
“Why?” said Draco, confused.
“Just…because!”
“Harry? Are you in there?” The door
opened a crack, to reveal Hermione’s pretty face. “Oh, hello, Malfoy.”
“Granger,” the blond replied, hiding
a snicker at Harry’s bodily attempt at hiding the book from Hermione’s
eyes.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Well, Granger-”
“Nothing! Ahem. Nothing, Hermione, really.
Was there… something you wanted?”
Hermione blinked. “Oh, I was just wondering
if you wanted to come with everyone to Celestine’s for dinner. You could
come too, Malfoy, if you wanted.”
Draco sat up and turned to the door.
“Thanks for the afterthought, Granger, but I’ll have to pass. I’m a
little busy learning about se-” But he was abruptly cut off by Harry’s
hand grabbing him firmly across the mouth and holding it there by slipping
Draco into a head-lock.
“Uh, I’ll…I’ll have to pass too, Hermione.
We’re pretty busy, studying and all. We’ll just make some sandwiches
later.”
Hermione’s look of surprised bemusement
didn’t last long as an inkling of suspicion crept into her mind. “Okay,”
she said knowingly. “Have fun, you two.”
“Oh, we will,” Harry reassured her.
“Now go, have fun.”
The second Hermione shut the door, Harry
released Draco from his hold.
“What the fuck do you think
you were doing, Malfoy?”
Draco rubbed his long neck gingerly.
“I believe I was just letting Granger know what I was busy dong. I never
mentioned anything about you.”
Harry scowled. “That’s not the point!
Do you deliberately like embarrassing me?”
Draco smirked. “Of course. You turn
this lovely shade of rose when you’re mad or embarrassed. Quite amusing
to see, really.” He rubbed his mouth. “You didn’t have to grab me so
hard, you know.”
Harry groaned in exasperation. “I hate
you.”
“Oh? Well, then I suppose we’ll just
have to go back to the way things were; you hating me, me hating you,
a never-ending battle of…well, it won’t be wit, because I’m the only
one possessing that, here.”
Harry growled and punched Draco on the
arm, hard. “Shove it, Malfoy.”
“Ooh, see, you just proved my theory
right, Potter. Not much of a comeback. And don’t hit me.” He punched
Harry back.
Harry smirked, just before tackling
Draco down onto the bed, punching and grabbing and pulling wherever
possible.
“Watch the hair!”
“You’re such a bloody ponce.”
“I am not!” Draco squawked in protest,
trying to push Harry off of them. He kicked out, knocking the book off
the bed. The sound startled Harry, who fell off the bed in the other
direction, dragging Draco with him.
“Ow!” Harry cried out as his head hit
the floor. He reached up and rubbed the back of his skull, wincing.
“Thanks a lot, Malfoy.”
“It’s not my fault you’re scared by
the sound a book makes hitting the floor.”
Harry glared up at Draco, who was kneeling
directly over him, their faces a few inches apart.
And that was how Ron found them when
he came up to investigate the noise just before he left for dinner.
“Harry, Malfoy, are you all…” The redhead
stopped, trailing off as he saw the situation in front of him. “Oh…sorry
to interrupt…” he said slowly, backing out of the room.
“Ron, wait!” Harry called, moving to
sit up, pushing Draco back on his haunches.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be down in a second to go to dinner.
Wait for me?”
Ron smiled softly, nodding. “Sure. Bye
Malfoy. Unless you’re coming?” He said the last almost disparagingly,
but managed to pull off civility.
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but
Harry beat him to it. “Oh, no. You are going home,” he said
to the flaxen-haired young man. “I think I’ve had enough of you tonight
already.”
Ron and Draco both raised their eyebrows,
each seeing the double meaning of Harry’s words, who was oblivious,
as always.
Harry stood, grabbing his jacket and
throwing Draco his cloak. Draco gathered his things quietly, mildly
amused and yet still somewhat hurt by Harry’s attitude that evening.
Tying up his shoes, he looked up to find Harry and Ron waiting for him
to finish, so they could escort him downstairs.
I see that the trust still runs
freely around here, he thought sarcastically.
He followed Harry down and out the door,
waving a silent good-bye to him as he walked away with all of his closest
friends, a group Draco didn’t really feel he had the right
to try and be a part of.
Gryffindors, the lot of them. They’d
drive me mad within the hour. Oh, and can’t forget Loony, the Ravenclaw.
He sighed, arriving at Number Three. It’s all for the best,
I suppose. No need to work myself up over it. It’s the way it’s always
been.
But then a sort of devious thought occurred
to him.
But it doesn’t always have to be
that way…
***
When Harry returned from dinner, he
was beat and agitated, from the not-so-subtle looks Hermione and Ron
were giving him, to the realisation that he never did finish his homework,
to the slightly worried glances from Ginny, to the fact that he couldn’t
stop thinking about that damn book. And Draco.
Sighing, he ran his fingers through
his hair and got dressed for bed. Climbing in, he was just about to
extinguish his last candle when he realised that Draco had never taken
the book with him.
Sitting up, he peered over the edge
of the bed; almost pleased to see the book, face down, on the floor
next to the window.
Grabbing it, he sat back, turned it
over and studied the cover. He fingered the scarlet lettering on the
front, musing to himself.
He opened the book, idly flipping through
the pages as Draco had earlier, stopping at interesting pictures and
re-reading some of the tips. When he got to the third section, he hesitated,
but ploughed on ahead, figuring if he was going to learn about it, he
might as well learn about it all.
‘Intercourse is not the ending option
for all male couples;’ he read. ‘Many couples do not find pleasure
in such activities, and are happier pleasuring their bodies in other
ways, including oral sex and hand-jobs.’ The text was accompanied
by small illustrations demonstrating different positions to enjoy the
mentioned activities in.
Harry smirked. I think that’s kind
of a given…Hmm…I wonder what a blowjob feels like… He continued
on with his subtle education, slowly feeling more at ease with the subject.
But he kept finding himself going back
to those first few illustrations that he and Draco looked at—of the
two men, in the throes of passion.
He found himself rubbing his arousal
before he knew it, getting lost in the images running through his mind.
By his own innate magic alone, a blond and brunette replaced the black
and white illustrations on the page, and suddenly the picture was moving,
and even though Harry tried to refuse the image in front of him, he
was already coming, feeling wonderful and wretched at the same time.
Oh Merlin, what’s happening to me…?
Why do I keep thinking about Draco?
***
Friday, 10 October 2003, Mid
Evening
***
Harry sat a little nervously on a bar
stool while he waited for Mikhail to show.
“Waiting for a hot date?”
Harry looked up from his butterbeer.
“Ah, no, Celestine. Just my Quidditch Captain. He wanted to talk to
me.”
“About your future…” said a mysterious
sounding voice in Harry’s ear, hot breath caressing the sensitive skin.
“Ah!” Harry jumped and turned abruptly
in his seat to find Mikhail standing directly behind him.
Mikhail chuckled. “Two Devil J’s Blood
on ice, Cel.”
“Comin’ right up, Mik.”
Harry rubbed at his ear, feeling strange
tingles down his left side. “Merlin, Mik, you scared the shit out of
me,” he scolded.
Mikhail patted him on the shoulder.
“Sorry, mate. Are these okay?” Taking the deep red drinks from Celestine,
Mikhail led Harry to a small circular table near the back.
“Yeah, but I’ll probably only have one.
I still can’t hold my drink too well. Especially that one.”
Mikhail chuckled. “I probably should
have asked first, sorry.”
“No, that’s fine. I don’t mind it every
once and a while.”
They sat down, and Mikhail said, “You
did good in practice again today, Harry.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really? I
thought I sucked.”
“Harry, you’re not giving yourself enough
credit. You’re a superb Seeker.”
Harry finished off his butterbeer and
picked up his J’s Blood, letting the stinging sweet liquid burn down
his throat. “That may be so, Mik, but you know I’m tired of playing
all the time. Why not give Draco a chance. You’ve seen him out there.
Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”
Mikhail sighed. “Of course I see it.
And I agree with giving him a shot next game.”
Harry perked up. “Really?”
Mikhail smiled. “Of course. But we’re
not here to talk about Draco.”
“We’re here to talk about me, aren’t
we?”
“Yep. And you’re future in Quidditch.”
“What have you heard?” Harry leaned
back in his seat with the air of someone listening to business propositions.
Mikhail relaxed a bit as well, but excitement
still shone in his dark eyes. “A lot, actually. When you disappeared
last Saturday, I had scouts from Puddlemere, Wimbourne, and Montrose
come up to me, asking about you. And your plans after graduation.”
Harry frowned slightly. “And what did
you tell them?”
“That I didn’t know for sure, but I
hoped that you had every intention of going pro.” Mikhail took a sip
of his drink.
“Hmm.” Harry looked thoughtful.
“Should I not have said that?” Mikhail
asked, setting his drink down.
“No, no. I’ve been thinking about it,
Mik. I mean…you know I’ve been studying medicine on the side, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m just not sure if I want to
continue on with an apprenticeship, or spend a few years doing pro Quidditch.
It’s only a little bit longer before I’m out of my prime.”
Mikhail
nodded. “Understandable. I didn’t know what I wanted to do after Hogwarts,
so I came here to study Spell Creation and Arithmancy. After a few years
of dabbling at my father’s law-firm, that is. But I’ve always loved
Quidditch, and now I’m Captain. I’ve had a few offers, but again, I
know that I’ll need the knowledge to keep a steady income whenever my
prime is up. Assuming I decide to go pro.”
“So you haven’t decided?” Harry asked,
sipping on his drink.
Mikhail shook his head. “Nope.”
Harry bit his lip. “My friend suggested
that I play Quidditch for a while, then take an apprenticeship as a
medi-wizard.”
“Smart friend.”
“Yeah…” Harry mused. He finished off
his drink, and hailed one of Celestine’s workers over.
“Yes, Harry?”
“Oh, hey, Owen, I didn’t know you worked
here.”
Owen Cauldwell shrugged. “Gotta get
some knuts from somewhere to help pay for school. I only started a few
weeks ago.”
“Ah. Well, I’d like a butterbeer, please,
and Mikhail, do you want another?”
“Devil J’s Blood, yes, please.”
“A butterbeer and J’s blood, Owen. Thanks.”
Harry could already feel the drowsy
effects of the J’s Blood start to work on his mind and body. It was
designed to make you feel euphoric and sleepy, as if one of the royal
vampires had seduced you into their chamber of sensual bliss and nightmares.
Harry had only had a few in his life, preferring to keep his head a
bit more clear and awake than the drink offered.
Turning back to Mikhail, he asked, “So
only those three? Puddlemere, Wimbourne, and Montrose?”
Mikhail leaned forward. “What? Were
you expecting more?”
Harry grimaced. “No. I’m glad there
were only three. Too many offers would have had my head spinning.”
“Well, there’s sure to be more.” Then
Mikhail leaned in further, lowering his voice so Harry had to lean forward
as well. “Though I think Puddlemere actually wants you to replace the
Chaser they’re losing after this season.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
Mikhail nodded. “Yeah. I think they
think a bit too highly of themselves, and are probably willing to take
a first-class Seeker and give him a damn Quaffle, rather than chuck
their current Seeker out and replace him and their Chaser properly.”
“Interesting.”
Their drinks arrived, and Harry’s head
started to clear again after taking a few sips of the warm, sweet drink.
“So, if I were to go pro, where do you
think I should go, Mik? Based on the offers given to me so far.”
“Hmm… Well, the Magpies are by far the
best team, with Puddlemere behind them. Their League wins are phenomenal,
and I think they’re in for their third European Championship this year.”
“Yes, they are quite skilled.”
“You’d be working with the best, I think.
I mean, there are good players on all the teams, but the reason the
Magpies always win is because they really act like a team. And the can
adopt new players easily. Which is actually what made me think we should
start up the JV team. To integrate player mobility and style.”
“You thought that up?”
“Yeah, do you remember the year you
guys came in? I had just been made captain, and there were so many new
people who were really pretty good, but we couldn’t fit them all in.
So, I made a JV team, who would help with drills and scrimmages, and
hopefully hone their skills enough to actually play in the games.”
“Like Ron.”
“Yeah, Weasley is my first success on
that part. Not to mention we needed a new Keeper as it was.” Mikhail
smiled, tipping back his glass.
Harry nodded in thought. “Well, the
Wasps never seemed to push themselves very hard, as far as I can tell.
Though they are formidable…compared to some of the other teams.”
“Maybe you could whip them into shape,
Harry. I think even a horrible team could win, with you as their Seeker.”
“What can I say, it’s just too easy.”
Harry joked.
“See? You sound like Eunice Murray from
the Magpies already.”
Harry chuckled. “Well, I guess I’ll
just have to see what they want to offer me exactly, and we’ll see what
happens.”
“I don’t think Puddlemere’s going to
offer much. Especially if they plan on giving you the red ball as it
is.”
“It isn’t about the money. Or the fame.
It’s about playing a game I love, with people I like and get along with.”
Mikhail studied Harry for a moment.
“Smart, you are.”
Harry shrugged. “Well, I’m pretty sure
just about every team will come running once they hear I might be looking.
Can’t let anyone else get the Saviour of the Wizarding World,” he intoned
somewhat sarcastically.
His companion frowned momentarily before
finishing off his drink. “I think I’d like a butterbeer before we head
out, myself.”
“You can finish off mine, I’m not going
to.”
“Really? Thanks.” Mik reached across
and took the proffered bottle, chugging the last half quickly.
They both stood, Mikhail pulling out
a little pouch and placing a few coins on the table. Walking out, they
waved good-bye to Celestine and Owen, before stepping out of the golden
warmth of the café-turned-pub and into the midnight blue darkness
of the night.
“Thanks for the drinks, Mik.”
“No problem. Can I walk you home?”
“Well, sure. But don’t you live here,
in the village?”
“Yeah, but I don’t mind. The walk will
clear my head a little more.”
They walked for a few minutes, past
the darkened windows and bright porch lamps. The breeze was shallow
and the sound of the ocean was not far off. The village was quiet for
a Friday night. It wasn’t quite ten yet.
Mikhail broke the silence. “So, why
medicine?”
“Why Spell Creation and Arithmancy?”
Harry asked back, smiling.
Mikhail smirked. “A case about a potentially
dangerous spell being created came through the office one day, and with
the war just ending, I became interested in how the spell worked exactly,
to know if it really was dangerous, and should be considered banned
and/or the research on it erased and the spell creator’s memory modified.”
“Interesting…” Harry commented before
offering, “There were a lot of people who I wished I could have helped
on the battlefield, but lacked the proper training to do so. Not to
mention that Madam Pomfrey will be retiring soon, and someone’s got
to take over for her. I love Hogwarts, and would really like to make
it my home, even with all the memories she gave me. Good or bad.”
Mikhail stopped walking, just as they
entered the darkened path between Rookwood and the B.I.
“That’s…really special, Harry.”
Harry smiled in return. “Thanks, Mik.
I like to think so too.”
They walked in silence, enjoying each
other’s company, before the B.I. came into view.
“Number One, right?” Mikhail asked,
the circle of lights bringing a strange warmth and comfort with it.
“Yeah.”
They entered the circle and walked past
Number Three and Number Two, the lights in the cottages still on, and
the occasional sound of laugher or the Wizarding Wireless echoing out
an open window and across the courtyard. The melody of water on rock
the sea created was a beautiful atmospheric background for the whole
picture. Harry and Mikhail approached Number One and climbed the short
steps to the porch.
“Well, here it is,” Harry said, sticking
his hands in his pockets. “Thanks again for the drinks, Mik. And for
walking me home.”
“It’s no problem Harry. I wanted to.”
Harry smiled and turned to open the door. “Goodnight, Mikhail. See you
on Monday.”
But Mikhail grabbed Harry’s arm. “Wait,
Harry, I-”
Harry turned, and his green eyes met
with Mikhail’s deep brown ones, a split second before Mikhail leaned
forward and kissed him.
Harry stood there for a short moment,
unable to process and respond, before instinct kicked in and his eyes
fluttered shut, his lips pressing back against Mikhail’s.
It lasted for a bittersweet moment,
and then his brain finally caught up with his instincts and he pulled
away.
Looking wide-eyed up at his Quidditch
Captain, Harry breathed, “Mikhail, what are you doing?”
Mikhail’s eyes also turned wide, and
his mouth stumbled out apologies. “Oh shit. Harry, I’m so sorry. You’re
not gay, are you? I just thought, with all the lack of girlfriends…shit!
I’m such an idiot-”
“No!” Harry protested, holding up a
hand. “I mean, I don’t…I’ve never…really thought about guys before,
but…I…er… Look Mikhail, I just need to go think. I’ll, uh…talk to you
later.” And Harry quickly went inside, leaving Mikhail out on the porch.
The dark young Quidditch Captain sighed,
feeling the weight of his mistake upon his shoulders.
“Shit.”
***
Harry bolted upstairs the second he
got inside, nearly slamming his bedroom door behind him in his haste.
Sliding down onto the floor, he threw
off his glasses and rubbed his shaking hands over his face. Touching
his lips with his fingertips, he whispered the only thing that came
to mind:
“Shit.”
<***
Saturday, 11 October 2003, Early
Evening
***
Harry entered the painting studio with
something akin to bats flying around in his stomach. Raven and Draco
were already there, setting up a low table and the camera on a short
tripod. Raven called a greeting from the floor, where she was fiddling
with the camera.
“Hey, guys,” Harry replied, closing
the door behind him.
“Just finishing up,” Draco said, straightening
his back and nudging the table a few more inches with his wand. “This
good, love?”
Raven glanced up. “Yep. Perfect. I’ll
set up the backdrop, you guys go get ready.”
Turning to Harry, Draco smiled and walked
over. “You ready to get naked in front of a girl, Potter?” the blond
whispered, slinging an arm around Harry’s neck and ushering the other
man to the back changing room.
A wry smile came over the brunette’s
mouth. “Nothing I haven’t done before.” Draco chuckled, and the bats
in Harry’s stomach receded to butterflies. “But can I say the same about
you?”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’ve had my
fair share of bed partners,” he said as he closed the door behind them.
“I’m sure,” Harry replied, shrugging
his jacket off and throwing it in the corner.
“What? Don’t you believe me?” Draco
asked, pulling off his charcoal grey jumper.
Harry’s breath hitched slightly as porcelain
pale skin came into view. The light was much dimmer than it had been
in Draco’s room, and the shadows tickled at the curve of Draco’s side
and collarbones, accenting his cheeks and chin, as well as his moderately
toned chest and lower torso. He averted his gaze and pulled off his
own shirt. “Sure, I believe you. I don’t think there’d be any doubt,
honestly.”
“Uh-huh,” Draco said, eying Harry’s
own well-maintained torso, drinking in the creamy skin and smooth muscles
of his back as Harry bent down. “This room’s a little small for two
people, don’t you think?”
Harry looked up from untying his shoes.
“Yeah. A little.”
“Here’s you robe,” Draco said as he
tossed the black silk robe in Harry’s direction. It landed on his head
and shoulders, and silently fell to the floor.
Draco snickered and kicked off his own
shoes and pulled off his socks. He watched as Harry pulled the robe
over his shoulders before turning around and taking his pants and boxers
off from underneath.
Draco raised an eyebrow again, noting
Harry’s shy behaviour compared to that of Tuesday night. He himself
disrobed without shame, slipping a deep red robe over his shoulders
just as Harry turned around.
Their eyes locked, and Draco tried to
give Harry a reassuring smile. “Ready?”
Harry nodded. “Ready.”
And they stepped out of the small room.
***
“Okay guys,” Raven said upon seeing
them, “robes off, and up on the table.”
Draco mock-groaned as if he were asked
to do some particularly distasteful, but smiled and slipped off his
robe easily, hopping up on the table.
Harry hesitated at seeing Draco so at
ease, if only for a second, but Raven caught his hesitation and questioned
him anyway.
“Still nervous, Harry?”
Harry started slightly, and looked at
his reflection in the window, just before turning away and slipping
off his own robe. “Er, no. It’s just those windows, is all. I know no
one can see us, but it’s still kind of weird.”
Raven walked over to the windows, charming
them to look like the walls surrounding. “Better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Harry stepped up onto
the table, carefully avoiding looking at Draco, but he could feel the
other man’s gaze on his skin, see that porcelain skin from his peripheral
vision, and those butterflies turned into bats again.
“Why aren’t we using the photo lab?
Surely they have a studio too?” Harry asked.
Raven shrugged. “Yeah, but I like this
room. And I’m comfortable here. I’m the only one who comes here late
at night as it is.”
“Ah. So…where do you want us?”
“Well, first Harry, I need your glasses.”
“What? Oh, right.” Harry took them off
and handed them down to Raven, who tucked them away in a pocket of her
robe. Some part of him could relax, because he couldn’t see Draco so
easily anymore, but another part was nervous because he couldn’t see
Draco, but Draco could see him.
“Okay,” Raven started, “for this first
shot, I’d like you two to face each other,” and the men turned sideways
to the camera, their eyes tentatively meeting, “ and Draco, put your
right arm on Harry’s left shoulder…yeah like that, but across his back
too, good… And Harry, step forward on your left leg. Yep. And lower
your head, so we can’t see your face behind Draco’s arm. Good. Yes…we
can work with that. And now, for the lighting.”
She adjusted the candles around the
pair, building shadows between them and highlighting their musculature.
Draco watched Harry throughout the entire
set up, noting that his skin was darkly tan against his own fair pallor.
Harry kept his eyes closed and breathed rapidly through his mouth, which
concerned Draco.
“Harry,” Draco murmured, “are you all
right?”
Harry tensed slightly, but didn’t move.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why to you ask?”
“You seem a bit tense,” Draco surmised,
giving the muscles under this hand a soft squeeze.
Harry’s breath came quickly through
his nose now, and he swallowed hard. It wasn’t that he was standing
here naked with Draco. He was more afraid of whether or not he could
stand being around Draco like this for so long and not react in an unwanted
way. Raven and Draco had been occupying his thoughts for the better
part of the week, and now Mikhail’s actions brought in a whole new set
of things to think about. Although he’d been thinking of how Draco had
unexpectedly entered his fantasies on Sunday and Thursday, he hadn’t
indulged; he had forced himself to think about someone else, anything
else. But male figures still haunted the vestiges of his intimate dreams,
and still he woke feeling confused and conflicted, but knowing, somehow,
that what he was feeling was just the way it was, even if he wasn’t
completely sure of what it was he was feeling in the first place. But
he had a pretty good idea, and it scared him to think of what could
happen if anyone else knew.
“No,” he finally replied, “I’m fine.
Just…got a lot on my mind is all.”
“Alright you perfect examples of the
male ideal, you still ready?” Raven asked, stepping behind the camera.
“Yeah,” Draco replied quietly, his gaze
still on Harry.
Raven adjusted her focus, took a few
pictures, and shifted her tripod to the right, readjusting the focus
and taking a few more. “Alright. Now I want you guys to push against
each other, like you’re struggling, but you’ll have to hold it for quite
a few moments, so nothing too wild.”
Draco smirked, and before Harry could
move, he shifted his stance to that he was just behind Harry, tightening
his arm around Harry’s neck, slipping him easily into a chokehold.
Harry nearly stumbled forward in surprise,
but Draco pulled their weight back and held them there. “Is this fine,
love?” Draco grunted, as Harry’s arms came up to stop Draco from pressing
on his throat any further. He could feel the radiating heat of Draco’s
body and the smoothness of his skin all along his back, and it made
him tense and gasp. It felt good, and Harry held his breath in anticipation
of his own body’s reaction to the feeling.
Raven’s eyebrows were raised. “He’s
not hurting you, is he, Harry, love?”
Harry shook his head minutely, sucking
in a breath. “No-he’s…just got a good hold. Surprised me.” His voice
sounded rough, but not inhibited.
“Okay…” Raven adjusted the angle of
the camera, quickly moved a few candles, and refocused the lens. “Alright…hold…just
one more…and good.”
Draco released his hold on Harry, who
turned around with narrowed eyes.
“Thanks for nearly choking me, asshole.”
Draco smiled. “Glad to be of service.”
“I thought you were fine, Harry,” Raven
asked, worried.
The jade-eyed man turned to her. “Oh,
I was. After Draco nearly choked me.”
“Draco!” Raven chastised.
The blond shrugged. “What?”
Raven sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.
Just…go get your wands and get back on the table.”
“Our wands?” Draco asked as Harry hopped
off the table, quickly donning his robe.
“Yeah, I want to take a few shots of
you mock duelling. And then we’ll do a few of you sitting down and a
few close ups of your individual limbs—for sketch-work.”
Draco nodded and followed Harry to the
back room, slipping on his robe as he went.
“You’re not really mad at me, are you
Harry? I was just kidding around.”
“No, Draco, I’m not really mad,” Harry
answered with a distant-sound in his voice, pulling his wand out of
his jacket pocket.
Draco pulled his out as well, but put
a hand on Harry’s shoulder to stop him from leaving.
“Potter, cut the bullshit. What the
fuck is going on with you tonight?”
Harry glared at Draco as best he could
in the slightly dim room without his glasses. “I told you, I’ve got
a lot on my mind.”
“Then tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because. I just…it’s… I don’t even
understand it, Draco.”
“Well, maybe you’ll start to if you
talk about it.”
Harry fidgeted on the spot, biting his
lip. “Okay. I’ll talk about it. But later. Raven’s waiting for us.”
And Harry pushed past Draco and back into the studio, disappearing behind
the backdrop. Draco watched as Harry’s silhouette appeared on the cloth;
his head drawn down and his shoulders slumped forward slightly. He looked
defeated.
Draco finally followed, and over the
next hour or so, Raven had them in various wizard’s duelling positions,
after which she had them set aside their wants and sit down on the table.
“Okay boys, last set for tonight. Harry,
will you turn so your profile is facing away from Draco, and Draco,
you do the same to Harry. I want you to lean your backs against each
other and wrap your arms around your knees. Like that! Yes, perfect.
You guys are really doing wonderful.”
Harry again felt the warmth of Draco’s
skin on his back, and instead of making him tense, it made him feel
a little more relaxed, like a reassurance that everything would be fine.
He let out a breath, and Raven took
the picture, with Harry’s head tilted back slightly in a rather carefree
gesture.
Raven smiled slightly at the scene in
front of her, before telling them gently to break apart and for Harry
to sit facing her, cross-legged.
“Put your hands in your lap, Harry,
and Draco, I want you behind him, kneeling, with your hands on his shoulders.
Yes. Now look at each other. Perfect. Hold that.”
As Raven adjusted her camera and the
lighting, Harry and Draco gazed directly into each other’s eyes, Draco
intent on trying to read Harry, and Harry intent on not swooning. The
atmosphere was definitely getting to him, and he was finding it hard
to breathe. He glanced away for a second without moving and swallowed,
just before Raven asked if they were ready.
Capturing the tender moment set up in
front of her, Raven felt the atmosphere change, the tension and the
adoration flowing unchecked around the room. Raven herself wasn’t sure
how she felt; feeling adoration for both men, she knew something was
changing, and some part of her was saddened by it. Being behind the
camera kept her separated from what was happening, and in some ways,
that was a good thing. She had only been feeling more and more insecure
about the situation since the first time Harry had been in this room,
even before her dreams were forcing her to feel things she didn’t think
belonged to her. It was the most disconcerting feeling in the world,
and she was only thankful that the dream only came sparingly and erratically,
and not every night. The fact that it was reoccurring was only adding
to her own tension and distress.
The need to talk in a subdued voice
overcame her. “Harry, will you now sit turned away from the camera,
your legs stretched out in front of you, with your left hand in your
lap, and your right hand holding you up? Good. Draco, will you kind
of sit on your side, facing Harry and I, holding yourself-”
“Up with my left hand?”
“Don’t get smart with me,” she said
with a smile. “But yeah. And get a little closer, you two. Relax; like
you’re lounging.”
“It’s kind of hard to lounge on a hardwood
table, love.”
Harry’s left hand came around and slapped
Draco lightly across the mouth.
Raven laughed. “Thank you, Harry,” she
said as she adjusted her tripod.
Draco’s mouth hung open in incredulity.
“You deserved it, dear,” the girl said,
winking at Harry as he turned to give her a smile.
Draco scowled, but moved closer to Harry
anyway, shifting his legs to a comfortable sitting position.
Raven had them hold while she took a
few shots, before asking them to face each other and intertwine their
legs and arms together, in a loose, sitting embrace. Clumsily, and with
much blushing, their legs wound up over and under each other’s, and
their arms loosely around each other’s shoulders.
“I hope this isn’t too intimate for
you guys. I’ll only take a few shots at medium range, but I’d like to
take a few close up, if that’s alright.”
Draco whispered an affirmative, his
grey eyes locked with Harry’s jade ones, their breath mingling together,
a light sheen of sweat starting to cover their nude bodies. Draco’s
hands rested lightly upon Harry’s back and shoulders, his lips parted
and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He could feel himself hardening,
and had only been able to keep it at bay in the first place because
of his determination not to think about it. Blast Raven! She’s deliberately
putting us in this position, probably with the hopes that we’ll start
shagging on this very table…Oh Harry…dammit, I’m sorry…
I can’t help it; I want you…
I love you.
Harry himself was fairing no better.
He had been too worried and nervous to become hard earlier, but with
Draco so close and the tension of their current position slapping him
in the face, he found he couldn’t control his body anymore, and the
pressure between his legs was building, his embarrassment apparent on
his cheeks.
“Harry?” Raven asked, catching his attention.
“Is this all right?”
Harry turned his head towards her, swallowing.
“Uh, yeah,” he breathed, his eyes losing focus slightly as the beating
of his heart became erratic and the sudden heat around him caused him
to become dizzy.
He couldn’t understand what was happening
to him. One minute, he was fine, if not a little distant; the next,
he was in more and more intimate positions with Draco, which he thought
he could handle, but it was apparent he couldn’t. His logic was trying
to fight his body’s natural reactions; a battle that finally became
too much.
“Harry?” Draco asked, as the jade eyes
closed and Harry’s weight swayed in his arms.
Raven frowned, stepping forward. “Is
he all right?”
“I don’t know. Harry, speak to me, come
on.” Draco shifted Harry’s weight so he could hold on to him better.
“I…” Harry rasped, his eyes fluttering
open, “just got…dizzy, is all. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Draco asked. “Do you want
to stop?”
“M-maybe.”
“All right. Come on, I’ll help you up.”
Draco quickly untangled their limbs
and supported Harry as he stood, steadying him on his feet. “Can you
make it to the back room?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Here are your glasses, love,” Raven
said, placing them in his hand. Harry put them on, making his way slowly
to the back room.
Draco stepped up to Raven, giving her
a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry you couldn’t get those last pictures, babe.”
“It’s all right. It was only the last
set…I guess we’ll just have to do it later. I wonder what happened,
though? I noticed that he seemed a little off, but I didn’t want to
pry.”
“Bullshit. When have you ever not wanted
to pry into other’s lives?” he jibed playfully. “Besides, I know you
deliberately put us in that position to get us closer. I know you’re
trying to get things moving, but-”
“Wait a minute. Are you accusing me
of causing what just happened?”
Draco was caught off guard by Raven’s
sudden defensiveness. “Well, why not? Darling, I know you mean well,
but you haven’t been talking with him. He needs time. Just let me deal
with him, okay?”
“Draco, I’m just trying-”
“That’s just it! You’re trying too hard!”
Draco’s voice rang out in the high-ceilinged
room, stunning Raven into silence.
Raven narrowed her eyes up at him. “Fine
then,” she said. “You needn’t worry anymore. You won’t be seeing much
of me in the future.” And she turned around and started packing away
her equipment, obviously having nothing else to say. Draco huffed and
turned away from her, bending down to pick up the discarded robes before
going to the back room.
***
"Hey," Draco said, closing
the door behind him.
"You were fighting about me, weren't
you?" Harry asked, leaning against the wall, still completely undressed.
"You heard?"
Harry stepped away from the wall, looking
at the floor and their pile of haphazard clothing. "You yelled,
how could I miss it?"
"Right. Well, don't worry about
it, Harry. She...just wants you to be happy, and I feel that she's pushing
too hard. I lost my temper is all. But we'll be fine. We always are."
He stepped forward and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Besides,
I'm more worried about you. What's up? You nearly passed out there."
Harry shook his head and turned so that
Draco's hand fell away. "I don't know why I started feeling so
faint... Overwhelmed, I guess?" He sighed. "Sorry I worried
you."
"That's fine, Harry. Isn't that
what friends do? Perhaps I missed that memo when I was still being a
complete prat."
Harry chuckled. "Maybe." Turning
back to Draco, he said with a bit of hesitancy, "Something happened
last night, that I don’t know what to do about."
"Last night? Wait...didn't you
go to the bar with Chaikovsky last night? He didn't kick you off the
team did he?"
A puzzled frown graced Harry's visage
as he finally found his boxers. "Kick me off? No. No…he didn't
do that. We talked about the scouts that were at last week's game."
Draco's eyes lit up as he straightened
from putting his own boxers on. "Really? Who was there?"
"Puddlemere, Montrose, and Wimbourne."
"I'd go with Montrose, Harry. Most
consecutive wins, not to mention they usually win the cup every year."
"I thought you didn't follow the
Magpies?" asked the brunette, slipping his jeans on.
Draco shrugged. "I don't, usually.
But I'm not an idiot either...if I'm going to be on a team, then
I'm going to be on a team that wins." He bent to
find his socks.
Harry shook his head. "Here, this
one's yours, I think."
"Thanks. So...if he didn't kick
you off the team, what happened to make you so down today?"
Harry took a large pause, twisting his
shirt in his hands before saying, "He kissed me."
Draco, who was balancing on one foot,
nearly fell over. Righting himself, he asked, "What?"
"Do I really have to repeat it?"
"He...kissed you. He, as in the
Captain? Chaikovsky? Mikhail Chaikovsky?"
"Yes, yes and yes."
"Oh...wow. I never realised..."
"That he was gay? Yeah, I know."
Harry felt uneasy.
"So...you're feeling weird because
he kissed you?" Draco was starting to feel a little pang of jealousy
in his chest, but ignored it as best he could.
"Well...that's part of it..."
"And the other part?" God,
this room seems smaller every time I come in here...and the air is stale.
"Well, I told you I like Raven,
right?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, if I like girls, then why'd
I kiss Mikhail back?"
Draco stood there for a moment, completely
stunned. Part of him was jealous as all hell, and another part was overjoyed
that Harry seemed to have homosexual tendencies...but Draco wasn't about
to count his eggs before they hatched. Taking a breath, he said reasonably,
"Well, Harry...I don't know exactly. But either you like guys too,
or you just did what anyone would do when they're kissed. They kiss
back."
Harry just seemed to become more upset
as he leaned against the wall. "So you're saying that you would
kiss a guy back too, regardless of the fact that you like girls?"
"Er...that depends on the guy."
"Draco, you're confusing me..."
Draco stepped forward. "I'm sorry."
He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, before quickly taking it away
again. "Sorry...you probably don't want guys touching you, huh?
You should have said something to Raven…we could have done this
later, when things aren’t quite so confusing for you."
Harry shook his head. "No…it’s
not that. I just... It wasn’t a bad kiss, I just... It was my
first real one. Besides that one with Cho in fifth year... Fuck. I don't
know, Draco."
"Well...what did you do after he
kissed you?"
"I asked him what the hell he was
doing, he apologised for assuming I was gay, and I told him that I didn't
know how I felt, then I went inside."
"You didn't know how you felt?
About what, exactly?"
"Guys."
"Okay..." Draco leaned on
the wall next to Harry. "Have you been thinking about guys before
he kissed you?"
Even in the dim light, Draco could see
Harry's face and chest flush adorably. It made Draco's heart flutter
slightly. "Er," Harry replied, "Just one...once. Or twice."
"Oh." A devilish smile graced
Draco's mouth. "Care to tell me who?"
"Er...no thanks. If that's alright."
Draco waved him away. "It's fine.
It took enough guts for you to tell me you have the hots for my girl.
I hardly expect you to divulge in telling me what hot bloke has caught
you're eye. Though I take it it's not Mikhail." And I pray it's
me...Merlin, I'm such a conceited sod.
"Thanks, Draco. And you're right.
It's not Mikhail. I just...don't think this other guy likes me that
way. But...I've been thinking about what happened with Mikhail all day,
and I...I think I might like guys too. Just a little. I mean, I must,
right, if I kissed him back and didn't want to beat the shit out of
him."
"Well, if you're using that logic,
then yeah."
Harry chuckled with no humour. "My
only other thought is that I'm so starved for affection that I'll take
it where ever I can get it."
"Don't sell yourself short, Harry.
You deserve to be happy. More than anyone I know. And just about everyone
else thinks so too. So...if you want to try something with Mikhail,
then go ahead."
"You'd be okay with that?"
"It's not my approval you need,
Harry. It's your own."
"I know that. I just...no offence
or anything, Draco, but you've never seemed to be the most accepting
person I know."
"Things change. People change.
You of all people should know that."
"Yeah, I know."
There was a pause before Harry said;
“I don’t really know him all that well, even though he’s
been my captain for over two years.”
“Well, go out on a date with him.
Get to know him.”
“But…wouldn’t that
cause favouritism? On the team?”
Draco shrugged, feigning indifference.
“Then don’t date him. Do whatever you want with whomever
you want.” He moved over to the other side of the small room,
bending down to retrieve his pants.
Harry stepped forward. “Draco,
have you ever thought about guys? Even in just a passing fancy?”
Draco finished slipping on his slacks
and straightened. “Only recently. Why?”
Harry seemed to sag in relief. “Well…I
know it’s none of my business, especially since I won’t
tell you who I’ve thought about, but is there someone in particular?”
Draco shifted his eyes to look at the forest-coloured ones in front
of him, and Harry rambled on. “I’m wondering because…if
you were in a position to kiss a guy, would you?”
Draco stared at Harry for a long time
before saying, “It’s been more than a passing fancy, actually,
and only one person.”
“But would you kiss them, if you
had the chance?”
“I’d want to, yes.”
Draco was starting to feel uneasy about this conversation. If only
you knew, Harry.
“Now I’m really curious,”
Harry said, studying Draco. “Who’s the bloke that’s
caught Draco Malfoy’s fancy? I promise I won’t tell. I’m
not a snitch, regardless of how many times I’ve caught one.”
A smile tugged at Draco’s mouth.
He bent down for his jumper, studying it closely, as if it held the
answer he needed. “I’m not sure you’re ready to know
that, Harry.”
This only puzzled the dark-haired man
more. “Why? Is it Ron or something?”
Draco’s head snapped up. “Weasley?
Ugh, Harry, don’t gross me out, really. Weasley? Ew.”
Harry laughed, feeling more at ease
again. “Okay, okay. It’s not Ron. Just had to throw it out
there.” Sobering, he asked for a third time, “So? Who is
it?”
“You sure are demanding tonight,
aren’t you?”
“No, I’m just really, really
curious. I never imagined that we’d be having this conversation.”
“Neither did I.” Charcoal
grey wool slid over smooth porcelain skin. Tugging it straight, Draco
looked up to watch Harry as he put on one of the red shirts he always
wore, and made his decision. Once he had the other man’s undivided
attention, Draco murmured, “It’s you.”
There was a long pause as the two men
stood there, bright grey lightning and dark emerald blazing. The air
was suddenly heavy, while one figured out how to react, and one waited
for the inevitable reaction.
Just as Draco was going to open his
mouth and plea for Harry to say something, the ruby lips parted, and
a soft “What?” emerged.
Draco swallowed and tried to make light
of the situation. “It’s Raven’s fault, really. You
know she adores you, and I…well, recently, I found that I couldn’t
resist your charms either.” He paused and sobered. “I won’t
try anything Harry. Strangely, I’ve found your friendship to be
very invaluable, and I’m done taking risks.”
Harry lowered his eyes and broke contact.
Turning away, he braced himself again the wall opposite. He just needed
to think.
What about Raven?
Should I…?
Would it mess things up?
I’m tired of waiting…
I should just take what I want, right?
Harry wasn’t sure of the answers.
The blond in the room stood very still,
so unsure of what the other was thinking or feeling; and almost loathed
to find out either way. He was getting no vibes from the situation-no
awry magical energies were coming from Harry, and he wasn’t sure
if that scared him more than a magically rampant Harry. Not that he
really knew how to deal with either.
Harry finally turned, his gaze lowered
and his breath quickened.
“What about Raven?” was
all he asked.
Draco was puzzled by the subject, but
understood what Harry was getting at. “She…wants you to
be happy. She cares a lot about you, and so do I. It’s…taken
me a lot of thinking about you to realise that. Raven wasn’t lying
when she said she’d be your friend or lover, whatever you need,
and…” he took a deep breath, “I’d like to extend
that offer as well.”
Harry raised his eyes and searched Draco’s
grey depths. “Are you saying…that…I mean…I could
be…dating…both of you? At the same time?”
Draco shrugged. “It’s your
decision, Harry. We just offer you ourselves and our…affections,
whether it is closer to friendship or not. I’m not going to sway
you either way, nor will I blame you if you walk away from the both
of us, right now.”
Harry glanced away before returning
to his original gaze. “Hy-hypothetically, what if I wanted to
be with only one of you?”
Draco gazed evenly back. “Then
that’s your decision, and neither of us would be petty enough
to contest it.” He smirked softly. “But I can’t guarantee
there won’t be a little bit of jealousy.”
Harry also smirked, and then his face
softened in thought as his gaze once again turned away. Looking back
to Draco, he stepped forward. “I’ve never been with a boy,
Draco, let alone a girl.”
“We know that, Harry. We won’t
force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Harry stepped forward again. “I
don’t even know how to kiss properly.”
Draco wanted to shift, but didn’t
dare move. Harry’s demeanour had changed slightly, and Draco wasn’t
sure what to make of it. “That’s okay. You’ll find
most of it comes naturally, after you get started.”
“I bet you already knew everything.
You’ve never been the fool.” Harry stepped forward again,
and then he was only a foot away from Draco, who was feeling uneasy
and wanted desperately to know what Harry was feeling or thinking or
something. If he was going to hit him, he should just bloody
well get it over with. But something in Draco was reading the situation
positively, and hoped beyond all hope that he was right.
“That’s not true,”
the pale man countered. “I was a fool about the Dark Lord. I was
a fool about who you really were—about you in general. I…was
all right my first few times. But like I said earlier, Harry, it’s
all about confidence.”
Harry seemed to weigh the word on his
tongue. “Confidence… Will you teach me confidence, Draco?”
“If you’d like.”
Harry nodded. “I would like that,”
he lowered his gaze and swallowed nervously, “and other things,
too.”
Draco cocked his head. “Like what?”
Harry’s eyes landed on Draco’s
lips, and Draco felt a strange swelling under his rib cage.
“Like to be kissed again.”
There was a beat and Draco breathed,
his throat suddenly closed off, “By me?”
Harry’s lips’ parted and
he nodded, shifting closer.
Something sparked in Draco’s mind.
“Was it me?” he asked slowly, wondering. “The one
you’ve thought about?”
Harry’s eyes left Draco’s
pink lips to meet his wondering grey gaze. “Yes.”
That was all the confirmation Draco
needed before he finally moved—like the rubber band holding him
back had finally snapped—and he shifted forward, closing the gap
between them. But he paused right before their lips touched; to see
the want in those green eyes, giving Harry the opportunity to complete
the gesture and press his lips against Draco’s.
All was still for a moment, just lips
pressing against lips and lashes tangling together as they fluttered
shut. Then Draco raised a hand to caress Harry’s soft cheek, his
other arm slipping around Harry’s waist, while Harry’s arms
rose to hold Draco’s upper arms before sliding around his shoulders.
Draco breathed in harshly through his
nose, slipping his other arm around Harry’s waist to pull the
man to him and press harder with his mouth. The nervous tension in his
rib cage swelled, pressing against his heart, and he could feel it beating
harder in his chest, and surely, he thought, Harry could feel it too.
Then Draco slowly pulled away, planting another short and soft kiss
to Harry’s wanting lips before breaking lip-to-lip contact completely.
Harry’s eyes blinked open, and
Draco was pleased to see his green eyes heated and his cheeks and lips
flushed red.
Harry was breathless, his mind whirling
and his heart thumping hard, and oh, he’d just been firmly
and soundly kissed, and…and…
Their breath mingled together for a
moment before Draco whispered, “Was that what you had in mind?”
Harry nodded mutely, his eyes trailing
up Draco’s face to rest on his eyes. “Better than,”
he replied breathlessly.
…he wanted more.
Draco smirked. “Good.”
There was a beat where Draco was trying
to decide if he should initiate another kiss—not wanting to pressure
Harry into anything more than he asked for, when Harry made that decision
for him by throwing off his glasses and moving his head to capture Draco’s
lips with his own. Draco enthusiastically took his own surprise and
put it to better use, pulling Harry to him again, who lost his balance
and slammed them both into the wall behind Draco.
The kiss seemed to change then, becoming
fevered and open; Draco guided Harry, their breaths becoming harsh and
panted as desire consumed them both. Harry pulled back on Draco’s
neck to kiss him harder, also pressing Draco into the wall as much as
he could, trying to mould his body to the blonde’s. Draco pressed
firmly back before easing away and teasing Harry’s lips with his
tongue.
Harry’s lips parted quickly, and
the next either of them knew, it was a battle of tongues, with Harry
plunging his fingers into Draco’s soft blond locks and Draco’s
hands seeking the hot skin of Harry’s back beneath his shirt.
Harry moaned as Draco’s cool hands
came in contact with that hot skin, their mouths breaking apart, and
Draco dove for Harry’s neck, overwhelmed with want and need for
the man in his arms. The cognate part of his brain that was still active
was in awe at what he was currently doing and just how much the need
had been there, and how much it consumed him now.
Harry felt the same, dazzled by this
all consuming need to touch and feel and reach some dizzying point of
distinct pleasure. It was humming through his bones, and singing through
his nerves, creating a seductive melody that rung in Harry’s ears,
along with the shuffling of fabric and the moans and breaths of himself
and Draco. He was not thinking about the fact that he shouldn’t
really be so attracted to another man, that it didn’t matter,
because he was, and Draco was so suddenly wonderful and perfect,
and Harry wanted nothing more than to spend all his time kissing his
newfound friend.
Harry fell victim to Draco’s talented
mouth, gasping when the bites stung and moaning when the sting was soothed
by Draco’s wet tongue. He could feel the ache within his groin
building painfully, and could feel that same ache from Draco. The thought
of it sent a thrill through his entire body and ended at the centre
point—in his hard arousal.
Harry moaned louder and felt his knees
go weak; kissing was like…like…oh hell, he couldn’t
make a good analogy right now, he was being thoroughly snogged by Draco
Malfoy.
Harry yanked up on Draco’s hair
to kiss that sensual mouth again, and Draco complied hungrily, devouring
as much as he was being devoured. He tugged up on Harry’s shirt,
and they broke apart to pull it off and throw it in the corner, and
Draco once again had that beautiful skin in his view, but this time
it was under his hands and he was able to explore the smooth planes
and hard musculature. It was so much different than a woman, who was
all soft and curvy, but it was no less wonderful.
Harry’s arms were loose at his
sides, but he soon ran his hands up Draco’s arms as Draco distracted
himself with Harry’s torso. The wool of Draco’s jumper felt
coarse under even his slightly callused hands, and Harry wondered idly
why Draco would wear something so rough. His fingers clutched at it
slightly, feeling the hard muscles underneath, and wanted to feel them
with his bare hands again.
Draco stepped forward into Harry’s
arms again, placing a chaste kiss to Harry’s collarbone and his
hands on Harry’s hips. He then placed another short kiss on Harry’s
exposed neck, and one on his temple before backing away and pulling
off his own shirt.
Harry barely got a good, long look at
Draco’s chest before it was once again against his own and his
lips were at Draco’s mercy. The heat radiating between them was
exotic and intoxicating; and as their activities heated up their bodies
and blood, the room’s temperature also rose, and their breathing
became even more laboured, inhaling hot air and the smell of desire.
Harry allowed his hands to roam Draco’s
back, and as sweat began to build up on their skin, Draco pushed them
to the wall opposite, trapping Harry against the wall and himself. He
pressed his hips against Harry’s, delighting in the surprised
gasp it elicited.
Draco’s fingers wandered around
Harry’s body, caressing his sides and causing the slightest bit
of laughter from Harry’s throat and into Draco’s mouth as
he continued to kiss almost desperately. Those deft fingers teased the
hem of Harry’s jeans, sneaking inside an inch or two and pausing,
waiting for Harry’s approval.
What he got was a small hiss as his
fingers brushed against the scar applied to Harry’s side.
Draco immediately stopped, pulling away
slightly to look into Harry’s eyes, deep emerald with desire,
and marred by pain.
Draco quickly slid down Harry’s
body, and reaching Harry’s hip, he quickly unbuttoned Harry’s
jeans and tugged them down a few inches, to see the very thing that
caused Harry pain.
He placed a soft and gentle kiss to
it before murmuring, “Does it always hurt?”
Harry’s breathing was slightly
irregular, as he fought to regain control of his senses. “I…
Not all the time. It’s always been tender.”
Draco nodded and brushed his fingertips
over it again. “Harry, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Draco, I’m fine.”
“No, I don’t mean your scar.
I mean…Raven and I… I love her, Harry. And we’ve…thought
about marriage.” He looked up. “You have to understand,
that even though we care a lot about you, we…we can’t guarantee
that this can last. Physically, that is. So you can walk away now, if
you want to. I don’t want you to regret this, any of it, when
one of us says it has to end.”
Harry blinked, swallowing the harsh
reality he’d suddenly been put into by Draco’s words. Draco
stood, and brushed his fingers over Harry’s cheek. “I am
so sorry, Harry. I never should have allowed things to go even this
far. But Raven kept insisting, and-” he dropped his gaze and hit
the wall next to them, making Harry jump, “dammit, this
is exactly why I didn’t want… No, that’s a lie.”
He looked back up into Harry’s confused gaze. “I do want
you, Harry. But I’d rather we just stay friends than me having
to hurt you. Or Raven for that matter. It’s not fair to you to
be put in this situation.”
Harry’s face became slightly troubled
as the high from earlier came hurtling downward. “I understand,
Draco. I…I have to think about it.”
Draco nodded, already turning away to
get ready and leave, when Harry’s hand came up and turned Draco’s
face back to his.
“But I doesn’t mean I want
to stop.”
Draco was whirled around and pressed
up against the wall, Harry attacking any skin he could reach with his
lips and teeth, and Draco was taken aback by this suddenly aggressive
Harry.
“Harry, Harry, what are you-ah!”
Harry leaned his face in close, almost
whispering directly into Draco’s ear. “Draco, I’m
tired of people trying to baby me, and influence the way my life goes.
So, until I’ve made some decision, I’m going to do what
I want. And what I want right now, is for you to shut the hell up and
make out with me.”
Draco’s chuckle was muffled by
Harry’s mouth upon his, and in answer, he kissed him back enthusiastically,
twining his hands in Harry’s wonderfully wild hair. Harry’s
hands sneaked around Draco, splaying across his back, one hand then
going to try and unbutton Draco’s trousers while the other snuck
underneath the waistband and teased the flesh of Draco’s ass.
Draco moaned appreciatively, one of
his own hands sliding down to play with Harry’s jeans, pushing
them down slightly. Harry quickly stepped back and pushed them down
the rest of the way, kicking them away before moving in on Draco again.
Draco delighted in the feeling of Harry against him, and could now feel
just how aroused Harry was. He slipped his hand underneath the waistband
of Harry’s boxers, enjoying the feel of his ample ass, as Harry
worked on getting Draco as undressed as he was.
Draco stepped out of his pants as successfully
as he could while kissing and holding on to Harry at the same time.
Unfortunately, he lost his balance at the last second, sending them
both crashing into the wall and floor opposite.
“Ow…” Harry complained,
rubbing his head as Draco kneeled over him, uncharacteristically embarrassed
and knees smarting from the fall. “This is the second time this
week.”
“You okay?” Draco asked
breathlessly.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, tilting
his head up to accept the small kiss of condolence Draco granted him,
before being once again swept away in the intenseness of Draco’s
lips and Draco’s body hovering over his.
Draco let his hands roam over Harry’s
skin as they sat there, in the dim room of the hidden art wing. Ghosting
his palm over Harry’s arousal and receiving a most pleasing noise,
Draco took it upon himself to relieve Harry of that most tortuous pressure,
pushing aside the moist fabric and revealing Harry’s aching need
for release.
Harry gasped as Draco’s fingers
teased the hard flesh before finally engulfing him in heat and pressure.
He could only sit there against the wall; holding himself up and breathing
harshly at the feelings that ran like electricity through his body.
They had long ago broken lip contact,
both concentrating only on the feelings of giving pleasure and receiving
it. Draco leaned over Harry, bracing an arm on the wall above Harry’s
head, enraptured by Harry’s pants and noises, and the feel of
him in his hand. So much like himself, but so different.
It did not take long for Harry to cry
out, the release imminent and over, in wave after wave of shock and
pleasure.
Draco took his hand away, and not caring
about the stickiness, tilted Harry’s flushed face upward and kissed
him soundly on the mouth, stealing what little breath Harry had away.
Pressing their foreheads together, they closed their eyes and let their
sweat and breath mingle, Draco’s just as laboured as Harry’s,
yet his gratification was not yet met. Lazily, Draco cast a wandless
cleaning charm, removing the seed from Harry’s stomach and boxers,
and his own hand.
Harry whispered, “Draco, do you
want me to…”
But Draco shook his head. “No,
you don’t have to. I’m fine.”
Harry kissed him. “Liar. You’re
just as hard as I am.”
“Was,” Draco corrected.
“Oh shove off. Let me.”
Harry kissed him again, his hands trailing down Draco’s bare sides
to the top hem of his boxers.
“Do you think it could wait until
we get to my room?”
“On your bed?” Harry asked
huskily, kissing him once more.
“Or the floor again, whichever
you prefer.”
Harry chuckled and kissed Draco one
last time, sitting up and snaking his arms around the blonde’s
slim waist and looking him in the eye. “I…really like you,
Draco.”
Draco paused slightly, covering it up
by pulling Harry to him. “I really like you too, Harry.”
He pulled away. “Which is why I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I’m aware of the risks, Draco. But I’m twenty-three
years old, and I have been capable of making my own decisions for quite
a while now. However, I told you that I’d really think it though,
and I will.” He smiled. “Let me be reckless, will you? I
do believe I’ve had plenty of practice of making it out unscathed.”
Draco rolled his eyes and moved back
to stand, stepping around the room and grabbing the articles of clothing
that were his, and throwing the rest of them at Harry, who only laughed.
Once they were fully clothed, and their
wands and Harry’s glasses found, the two stepped out of the room,
hit full on with the light and the clarity of the air in the much larger
room. Draco grabbed the robes before they left the room, which was now
devoid of anything visible that might point to the activities that occurred
there.
Walking through the studio, they both
noted that everything was as it was before the photo shoot. The table
was neatly pressed up against one wall, the backdrop gone and the windows
revealed once more.
Just before leaving the studio, Draco
turned to Harry and pulled him forward, kissing him, hard, putting all
of his love and frustration into the gesture. They both came away breathless,
and with one last glance, Draco quickly led the way out and into the
dark and cold night, across the courtyard and into Number Three.
Blaise tried to question them as they
ran up the stairs, but they ignored the queries unheeded, sharing secret
devious smiles that continued to stick as they made it into Draco’s
room and shut the door behind them.
Draco still had a half-mind to cast
a silencing charm as Harry attacked him, pushing him up against the
door and ravishing the sultry and smirking mouth that was Draco’s.
His last coherent thought was: I
do believe I’ve unleashed a monster. Or a very horny and sex-deprived
twenty-three year old man.
Oh, fuck it. Who cares?
And Draco lost himself in the feel,
taste and sound of Harry as Harry lost himself in the feel, taste, and
sound of Draco.
|
