Title: [to be determined]
Rating: R, maybe nc-17, not sure
Summary: Lucius won't take no for an answer.
I've been working on this story for about a week now and I need to take a step back and get some input. Any, and all feed back would be appreciated. Thanks.
Harry watched as an eagle owl soared into the Great Hall and deposited its parchment missive on Draco's plate.
"It's time. My father wants me to come home," he whispered later as they met in the shadows. "I won't go, you know."
He knew this day would come, knew when he saw Malfoy’s owl soar into the Great Hall. “Are you sure?” He whispered.
Draco reached out, circling his fingers around Harry’s wrist. “I'm staying here. I promise.”
They looked at each for a long time, Harry finally looking away. “Okay.”
Harry wasn’t sure how it happened that he and Draco stopped being enemies. He couldn’t even explain what they were now -- friends, allies? He shook his head as he watched Draco leave, touching his cheek where Draco’s lips lightly brushed before he turned to go. All he knew was that things were different between them ever since he found a broken-looking Draco waiting for him outside the Charms classroom.
It was the same night Pansy Parkinson was found, beaten and bruised by the edge of the forest. Harry never asked why Draco came to tell him, in a shaky voice, that Pansy had fallen for a mudblood and that Slytherin paybacks were hell. He just nodded and watched Draco anxiously rub his bloody hands, as he quietly asked Harry for help.
A year ago, six months ago, he would have turned Draco away, but war had changed everything. Harry thought he understood that fear he saw when he looked in Draco’s eyes, he saw it in his own every morning.
“That’s one of Malfoy’s owls, isn’t it?”
Harry looked up from his breakfast and watched the owl circle the Great Hall.
“It’s his father,” Harry said quietly, watching the owl loop and glide before dropping its message before Draco’s chair.
Ron scowled, “Dumbledore should send that cunt home. Nobody wants him here.”
“Ron!” Hermione looked aghast.
“What? Everyone knows he wants to be a Death Eater. Send him home to daddy so he can get his Dark Mark and save us all from having to look at his ugly face.”
“He doesn’t want to go,” said Harry, watching Draco as he crumpled the unopened letter and threw it on his dirty plate before storming out of the Great Hall.
“How do you know?” asked Ron. Harry tore his eyes away from Draco’s retreating figure to see Ron and Hermione watching him.
“Well, he’s still here, isn’t he? The others have already left.” It was true; many of the children of old pure-blood families had already left Hogwarts presumably to stand behind Voldemort, including a surprising number who weren’t Slytherins.
“He’s probably spying on us, then,” said Ron biting off a piece of his sausage.
Hermione said nothing, her eyes still on Harry.
“What?” Harry asked testily, hating when she got that way.
She smiled, “It’s nothing, Harry. Really.”
That evening Harry met Draco again in the deserted Charms corridor. Draco kissed him on the mouth this time. Harry to his surprise didn’t push him away. Instead, his heart hammering in his ears, he kissed Draco back overcome with the warmth that burned from Draco’s mouth. His hands tugged at Draco’s robes as he pushed him backwards against the wall, feeling more alive than he had since the war started, feeling more alive since, well, since ever.
When they finally broke apart, Harry gasped trying to catch his breath. He rested his forehead onto Draco's, willing himself back to reality.
"Draco," he said softly, as he drew his head back so he could look Draco in the eye, "How did we let this happen?
Draco stiffened "What do you mean?" He let his hands drop away. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Harry said a little too sharply.
"You sound like there's a problem."
"No. It's just a surprise, that's all." Harry suddenly felt awkward; unnerved that Draco was staring at back at him with those scathing grey eyes of his. Harry nervously raked his hand through his hair. "Um, I probably should get going,"
Draco leaned against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your friends," he spat.
Harry winced, his temper suddenly flaring. He shook his head, spitting out the words before he could stop himself. "Well, at least, I know how to treat my friends."
Draco’s eyes widened. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He roared as he tackled Harry causing them to tumble backwards into a tangled heap. “You fucking bastard.” Draco grabbed Harry’s collar and slammed his head down hard against the floor..
“Ow," Searing pain shot through his head as he grappled blindly, somehow connecting his fist to Draco’s jaw. “Draco, stop.” Draco flailed backwards and Harry lunged, flipping Draco over and pinning him to the floor. “Stop, all right?” Draco bared his teeth at Harry, but otherwise didn’t move. Satisfied Harry jumped up and backed away, rubbing the back of his head.
Draco slowly got to his feet, his eyes blazing. He rubbed his mouth; smearing the blood that was trickling from his split lip “You haven’t changed one bit, Potter.”
“Me? No, you..."
Draco ignored him, “Yes, you.” Harry reached for his wand, as Draco slowly advanced toward him. “You arrogant fuck. I thought I could trust you, Gryffindor hero. Saviour of everyone, except those of us you deem unworthy.” They were so close now that Harry could see his reflection in Draco’s eyes. “Don’t come near me again,” Draco hissed.
“Fine.” Harry’s grip on his wand tightened, as they stood glaring at each other. He sighed, suddenly regretting his earlier words. “Draco, I--.”
“Fuck off,” With a hard shove, Draco pushed Harry away and stalked off into the darkened hallway leaving Harry standing there, gaping at his retreating figure. What have I done? With shaking hands, he brushed off his robes and made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, barely noticing the shadows cast by an owl flying overhead.
The next few weeks, Harry grimly watched as an eagle owl flew into the Great Hall every morning and every morning Draco would calmly toss the unopened parchment atop his untouched breakfast. Soon, the owls were everywhere, stalking the hallways and circling the grounds, their wings casting menacing shadows on the castle walls. He ached to go to Draco, but Draco pointedly ignored him, regarding him with the same feigned indifference that he regarded his father’s owls. Harry knew better. He grew adept at watching Draco when he knew no one paying attention. He noticed how Draco’s eyes darted warily at the greenhouse windows during Advanced Herbology, how he drew his robes tightly around his too thin frame as he walked to class. It was almost as though he was wasting away in front of everyone’s eyes, all skinny limbs and nervous energy that stalked through the corridors talking to no one.
At night, he dreamed of owls, pecking him, ripping at his skin and he’d wake up tangled in his sheets gasping for air. He also dreamed of Draco. Yearning dreams of warm skin and pleading grey eyes, ghostly kisses sliding along his neck mixed flashes of pale limbs and bloody fingernails and he would awaken, his hand desperately pulling his cock. He would come shuddering, his other hand covering his face, silently crying Draco’s name. Draco, Draco, Draco, why… Afterward, he would like awake in his bed staring at the ceiling unable to think of anything except how much he hated Lucius Malfoy.
“Harry, what’s going on with Malfoy?” Hermione asked one unusually warm day that brought most of the students outside.
“Huh?” he looked up and realized that Hermione had caught him watching Draco as he tugged apart yarn on his jumper. “Nothing,” he added hastily.
“Harry, first of all, I’m not blind. I see you watching him all the time and I know you two had been spending time together.
Harry started to reply, but Hermione waved him off. She looked over at Draco thoughtfully, “All those owls are from his father, aren’t they?”
Harry followed Hermione’s gaze, there was now an eagle owl perched on a tree behind Draco who was now quickly gathering his things and making to leave. The owl seemed unconcerned with Draco’s departure, flapping its massive wings and hooting threateningly at a passing group of students.
“Yes, they’re from his father,” Harry replied softly.
“Harry,” Hermione reached over, tucking an errant lock of Harry’s hair behind his ear.
Harry sighed, frustrated at himself for turning his back on Draco. “He wanted me to leave him alone,” he said weakly, his stomach twisting in knots.
“Do you think that’s the right thing to do?” Hermione asked.
“No,” he said after a pause, staring at the spot where Draco had been sitting. He made a decision, “I’ll see you at dinner,” and jumped to his feet, taking off in the direction Draco had gone. After several agonizing twists and turns -- he still, after all these year’s he could not find his way around in the dungeons -- he finally caught up to him in an empty corridor near the potions wing.
“Draco. Draco, stop… Please.”
After chasing after him the length of the corridor, Draco finally stopped, his eyes fixed straight ahead. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”
“I know. Look,” Harry struggled to catch his breath. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I wish I could take it back, I really do. Harry paused, searching Draco’s face for a reaction, any reaction. Finally, he sighed. “Draco, I want to help.”
“I don’t need your help. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“No. You do,” Harry said sharply, taking Draco’s elbow and lowering his voice "I will help you. Okay?”
Draco said nothing, his face still blank. Finally, his face crumpled in defeat and he let his head slump forward, tendrils of blond hair obscuring his face.
“I still love my father,” he said weakly.
“I know,” Harry reached to brush Draco’s hair from his face, a little surprised that the intimate gesture came so easily. Draco’s eyes closed as Harry’s hand cupped Draco’s cheek. Ignoring the fact they were standing in the public corridor in the middle of a school day hallway, Harry leaned forward and lightly brushing his lips on Draco’s cheek.
“Draco, You’ll be safe, I promise,” he said, bringing him closer into an embrace. Because that’s what I do, I save, I protect, I defeat Dark Lords.
Draco’s skin quivered as Harry removed Draco’s robe, throwing it to the floor. It late, after curfew, detention seeming to be an inconsequential concern. Harry ran his palms down Draco’s too thin torso, feeling sharp ribs and goose-pimpled skin. “Draco,” he whispered. “I wish…” his thumbs mapping circles on Draco’s stomach. “I wish we could just run away and forget all this.” your father, Voldemort, doomed prophesies, doomed wars. Draco’s hands skirted along Harry’s back, pulling at his shirttails. Their kisses turned fierce and Harry moaned, his hands full of burning skin. He yanked open Draco’s trousers, pushing them down into pool around his ankles and sank down to the floor, running his hands down Draco’s sides and swallowed his cock whole. He sucked hard, fighting off the urge to gag, ignoring that this was all new, that he had never done this before. He wanted to hear Draco scream his name, to wipe away the memories of his father and everyone else that wanted to keep them apart, and to know that he was Harry’s, and only Harry’s.
“Oh, God, Harry,” Draco’s hands scrabbled frantically around Harry’s head as he came in a shuddering gasp. It tasted bitterer than he expected and he swallowed it down quickly, sitting back on his heels while trying to catch his breathe. He looked up. Draco’s head was thrown back, exposing his throat. The flickering torchlight casting harsh shadows across his flushed face. His insides twisted seeing Draco looking so vulnerable. He stood and ran his tongue in lazy circles along Draco’s neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin until he found his mouth. “Your father can’t have you,” he whispered as he broke away, letting his eyes drift over to the window to see a pair of eyes staring beadily back at him.
Harry looked up from his dinner and saw three eagle owls soaring in the rafters. Another one had landed on the Hufflepuff table, angrily flapping his wings causing the students nearby to scatter. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, while Dumbledore vainly tried to restore calm. More owls appeared, flying overhead, coming from every direction. Draco. Harry jumped to his feet and pushed his way through the throng of cowering students, frantically looking for Draco. Ducking from an owl diving toward his head, he made a last, desperate push through a wall of students to find Draco sitting alone grimly watching an owl advance towards him.
Grabbing his arm, he pulled Draco to his feet. “I know where we can go; if we hurry they won’t find us.”
“Harry, wait,” Draco pulled his hand from Harry’s. “It’s no use.”
“No, we have to go, now!“ He grasped Draco’s hand tighter this time. Ignoring the screams coming from other side of the room, he pulled Draco towards the door.
“Harry, it doesn’t matter, He’s going to find me.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Malfoy,” Harry gritted his teeth and yanked Draco’s arm pulling him towards the corridor with the statue of the humpbacked witch.
“This is a lovely place you brought me to,” said Draco, wrinkling his nose. “May I ask where I am? “
Harry cast a quick lumos, casting the dingy room in torchlight. “The Shrieking Shack. This is where Professor Lupin used to hide when he changed into a werewolf when he was in school. Nobody’ll know to look for you here.”
“Nobody,” Draco looked unconvinced. He sighed, flopping down onto the threadbare sofa stretching his long legs in front of him. “You can’t save me, Harry.”
Harry sat down beside him and took his hand, lacing his fingers with Draco’s. He leaned his head back against the sofa and starred up at the cracked ceiling. “We’ll figure something out.” He looked over at Draco and watched him stare into the air in front of him. He squeezed Draco’s hand, “You’re mine anyway, I won’t let you go.”
Draco snorted. “Harry,” he said softly shaking his head. He picked up Harry’s hand and rubbed it against his cheek and lips, kissing it lightly.
Harry felt his heart drop. How did this happen? How he had come to care so much for Draco Malfoy? The Slytherin who represents everything I’m supposed to hate and whom I haven’t hated in quite a while now. Just the opposite, in fact.
He leaned over and kissed Draco on lips. It was a deep, searching kiss, like he wanted to explore every part of Draco’s mouth, to savour the unique way he tasted, to commit it to memory. He crawled over onto Draco’s lap and straddled his legs, his hands eagerly searching for skin.
“Harry,” he gasped as he pulled off Harry’s shirt. “I want you to fuck me, I want you inside me.” Draco’s hand slid under the waistband of Harry’s shorts, pressing their bodies even closer together. “Please.”
Harry’s heart was pounding. “There...there’s a bed upstairs.” His mind seemed to fade along the edges of sanity as Draco thrust his hips upwards. “I- I’ve never done this before.”
Draco nodded, his head buried in Harry’s hair. “I’ll help you,” he said breathlessly. “Don’t worry.”
They stumbled up the stairs, Draco taking Harry’s hand and leading the way. The old canopy bed was still in the center of the room and Harry yanked off the white top sheet, cringing at the cloud of dust it left behind. “It’s not the best.”
"It’ll be fine," Draco said, pulling Harry into an embrace before leading him to lie down on the bed. He crawled on his hands and knees, straddling Harry and kissed a line down the center of his chest before gently removing Harry’s trousers.
Everything, all the misery, all the bitter wounds seemed to peel away like layers of old skin as Harry lost himself in the heat of Draco’s mouth. “God, you feel so good” he whimpered, trembling at the sight of Draco’s lips wrapped around his cock. “Don’t ever stop touching me.”
Draco smirked, locking his eyes on Harry while his tongue continued to swirl around his cock.
Harry let his head fall back onto the bed, he was moaning incoherently now, his hands grasping handfuls of Draco’s hair.
“All right,” Draco snickered, as he crawled back up Harry’s body and propping himself on his elbows so that they were now face to face. “I think you’ve had enough.” Harry looked up at Draco, losing himself in those stormy eyes until finally, he flipped them both over, grinding his pelvis into Draco’s. "You have entirely too many clothes on," he said, laughing feeling like the world had utterly gone mad.
Draco smiled back at him as he wiggled out of his clothes, every little movement sending shivers down Harry’s spine. “You ready?” Harry nodded and Draco reached for his wand, casting a lubrication spell and slowly guided Harry inside him.
Harry threaded his fingers with Draco’s, as he slowly started to move, the unbelievable warmth and tightness threatening to overcome him. He looked down at Draco, whose eyes were clenched tight. “Draco,” he whispered, “Open you eyes. Look at me.” Draco’s eyes flickered open and Harry held his eyes with his. “He can’t have you,” he was moving faster now. "He can’t …I won’t let him." He leaned down biting Draco’s neck, hard enough to leave a mark, my mark. “I won’t…” They both shuddered and Draco’s, face turned away from Harry’s as he came.
Harry pulled away and collapsed beside Draco, suddenly exhausted. Wrapping his arms and legs around him, he drew Draco close, burying his face in Draco’s hair. He knew, he should have fought it, but he was so tired, His eyelids heavy, he soon fell fast asleep.
It felt like he was in a dream, as he watched Draco get up from the bed and quietly put on his clothes. Tiptoeing across the room as he covered Harry with the discarded sheet, running his palm down the length of his body. He wanted to stop him, he really did, but he was tired and besides it didn’t seem real. He knew Draco would never leave him.
“Good-by Harry,” he heard whisper and a door clicked shut.
Harry blinked at the bright sunlight streaming through the cracked windows. He sat up and looked around him, his body sticky and sore. He was all alone.