nursedarry | Fic: Young & the Restless, Part 3

Title: Young & the Restless, Part 3
Pairing: H/D, RW/HG
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: ~2000
Warnings: None
A/N: Written for

nicevenn for

hd_seasons' Stocking Stuffers. Thanks to my wonderful betas! Young & the Restless was originally written for

harrypotterbang and includes some lovely art. Read the first two parts here.

“That just happened, didn’t it?” Malfoy asked in whisper as he watched Dumbledore stop to chat with Blaise and Pansy.

“Yeah...” Harry said. “Why am I not surprised?” With the revelation that the Headmaster was now also in on their secret, Harry decided he’d had enough confrontation for one day; he’d deal with Ron tomorrow. “Come on...” He tugged at Malfoy’s hand. “Let’s go while everyone is still up here.” He turned to look at Malfoy who was smirking at him.

“And where do you suggest we go, Potter?”

“Yours,” Harry said and sighed. He hoped any thought Malfoy may have had about teasing him or refusing might be pushed aside. Even with Hermione’s assurances to Malfoy about Ron’s potential behaviour, Harry was still stung from the earlier encounter with his best friend. Harry fully understood that he had far less to lose than Malfoy, that his friends would come around eventually, but that didn’t make facing them any easier. At least not right now.

“I thought you were going to go back to your dorm to see if the Weasel had come to his senses.”

“I don’t think I want to, now. I think I want Hermione to talk to him first. After all, you said she thought it wasn’t such a bad idea.”

“I didn’t say that, Potter. I said she thought we made an adorable couple.”

“Well, that’s almost the same thing.”

“Potter, Millicent Bulstrode thinks she and Professor Snape would make an adorable couple. Girls have no sense when it comes to these things.”

“Right, Malfoy. And we make perfect sense together.”

“Hmmm. You may have a point there, Potty.”

*

“Come on, then,” Malfoy said as he slid under the duvet. Draco had changed into his pyjamas, Harry had stripped to his t-shirt and pants. He climbed into bed beside Malfoy and they lay with their sides pressed together in the narrow space.

Almost as an afterthought, Harry took off his glasses and stuffed them under the pillow. The last time he’d been here, that bizarre but amazing time when he’d been completely focussed on how it would feel to be inside someone for the first time, he’d discarded the glasses over the side of the bed. They could easily have been seen peeking out from underneath the heavily warded bed curtains. When he’d snuck out of the dorm at dawn, Harry had nearly trodden on them, and marvelled at how lucky he’d been that they hadn't been discovered by Malfoy’s house-mates.

Now they both leaned back on the pillow and Harry stared up at the canopy, once again aroused by his proximity to Malfoy. But seeping around the edges of this desire he felt bitterness at Ron’s discovery and reaction. Tonight, when he didn’t return to the Tower, Ron would know exactly where he was; he wouldn’t be able to pass off his absence as before. Not that Ron had believed him when Harry claimed he’d been up chatting with Neville.

Neville...

“Malfoy,” Harry said quietly, even though they were in no danger of being overheard.

Malfoy had closed his eyes. “What?”

“What do you think Ron meant when he said you knew to Neville in class today.”

Malfoy was quiet for so long that Harry thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally, the other boy said, “I expect he was accusing Neville of knowing about us.”

“Yeah. That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Perhaps we should take out an advert in the Prophet,” Draco quipped.

Harry turned his head to peer at Malfoy’s profile. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Malfoy opened his eyes, turned and smirked, then frowned, a crease forming between his brows. “Yes, maybe it isn’t that funny. Do you want to stop? It’s not like they can prove anything.”

Harry thought for a long moment, looking at Malfoy but seeing instead several recent visions in his minds’ eye. Ron pointing at him in the classroom. The twinkle behind Dumbledore’s half-moon spectacles. Malfoys lashes brushing against his cheeks whenever he blinked.

Malfoy had a very faint dusting of pale freckles across his nose and over his cheeks. How come Harry had never noticed them before? “No,” he stated. How could he give this up? It felt too good and besides, there was still so much to discover. “Do you?”

Malfoy turned, rested his head on his arm, and stared into Harry’s face. He said nothing, but Harry felt a pyjama-clad leg slip between his. The response in the subsequent kiss was unmistakable.

*

Too hot, Harry thought, kicking the duvet off. His body felt cramped from sleeping in an unfamiliar position, and in this semi-awake state, he strove to rearrange his limbs in the position in which he most often slept.

“Gerroff,” Malfoy mumbled at him and Harry woke fully, realising he was again sharing Malfoy’s bed. He turned on his side, facing Malfoy, which made more space for both of them. Malfoy instinctively moved into the empty space and attempted to stretch out on his belly. Harry had discovered Malfoy liked to sleep like a starfish; undoubtedly he slept in a larger bed when not at school.

Reaching for his wand where it lay underneath the bed, Harry cast a Tempus Charm. Three AM. Mutual hand jobs early in the evening had given way to five pleasant hours of sleep during which Harry had been able to forget Ron and Neville and Hermione and Dumbledore. Now they attempted to force themselves back into his psyche and Harry wasn’t having any of it. Cooled down, he pulled Malfoy’s arm over himself like an extra duvet.

“Uncomfortable, Potter,” Malfoy complained into Harry’s hair.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” Harry said smiling into the darkness. Malfoy yanked Harry underneath him, spreading out across his body.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he snarled, half-asleep and wholly aroused.

They had class tomorrow, but Harry could return for his books in the morning when he knew Ron would be in the Hall. Harry smiled thinking of his friend’s appetite: Voldemort could materialise in the middle of the Gryffindor common room and Ron Weasley would still sidestep him on his way down to breakfast. Finding out your best mate — was he still Ron’s best mate? — was shagging his arch-nemesis would hardly put a dent in Ron’s determination to bring his mouth closer to a platter of bacon.

Draco gave off rubbing his torso against Harry’s once-again overheated skin when he saw Harry’s smile. “Want to let me in on the joke, Potter, or should I just send you back to the tower?”

“You wouldn’t think it was very funny.” Harry reached up and gripped Draco’s bum, pulling the other boy against him.

“Try me,” Malfoy said.

A little clumsily, but very determinedly, Harry rolled Draco over and reversed their positions. He wedged his knees between Draco’s but not without a fight. “If you insist,” Harry said through a smirk.

Harry managed to last a little longer this time. He tried not to let Malfoy’s lovely features, the sweet way he pretended he wasn’t in pain at the start, and the incredible sensation of his legs draped over Harry’s arms deter him from at least four or five good hard thrusts, before he found himself coming with a satisfied groan. He gave Malfoy a few long strokes and then both were ready for more sleep.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Harry arrived in the Great Hall, his eyes first flicking to the Slytherin table, where he could see a head of white-blond hair among the other colours.

Eyes shifting, he walked to his table, found his chair next to Ron and sat down as nonchalantly as he could. He looked up at Hermione, who smiled at him before she glanced at the table behind him, undoubtedly looking at Malfoy.

“Good morning, Harry,” she said and passed him a jug of pumpkin juice.

“Hi, Hermione. Thanks.” Harry poured himself a glass, spilling some and then held the jug toward Ron in what he hoped was a friendly manner. Ron ignored him.

“Oh, here we go again,” Seamus said from next to Hermione. “It’s like fourth year all over.” He shook his head, obviously thinking of the short but annoying time the Golden Trio had been rent asunder. “Really, you two have been friends for six years. I think I can speak on behalf of the entire table when I say we really don’t want to be relaying messages between the pair of you again, so why not do us all a favour, and kiss and make up.”

From further down the table, someone coughed loudly and painfully. All heads turned to see Ginny slapping Neville on the back. He briefly struggled to breathe and wiped spilt pumpkin juice from the front of his jumper.

Harry didn’t want the entire house mad at him, and he hoped that Ron would eventually see reason. The fact that Ron hadn’t shoved his chair back from the table and left the Hall when Harry had sat down probably said more for Hermione’s influence than it did for Ron actually coming to terms with anything, but whatever the reason for Ron’s continued presence, Harry was grateful.

After all, it wasn’t as though Ron could argue that Malfoy was taking Harry away from his friends. Harry didn’t spend every waking moment with Malfoy, nor would he want to. He had, from the beginning, spent no less time than he would have with the Gryffindors, as most of the time he and Malfoy were together would have been when Harry was studying or asleep. If anything, Ron and Hermione spent more time away from him! But in his heart, Harry knew this wasn’t what Ron was so upset about. Whereas Harry had six years of bad blood to overcome with Malfoy, the Weasleys had been snubbed and condescended to by most pure-blood families for decades. It must be hard for Ron to come to terms with Harry’s choice of partner based on that alone.

Beyond that, he had no idea how Ron felt about him having chosen another bloke. If he were to guess, Harry didn’t think it mattered that much. There were several same-sex couples at Hogwarts. Harry had found it odd that they were so easily accepted when he first became aware of them, but then grateful for it later when he began to consider that maybe limiting himself to one gender was risky; after all, he’d had a pretty bad track record with girls. Certainly Malfoy had no issue with his or Harry’s sexuality. The fact that Malfoy hadn’t said anything about that aspect of Harry’s life being newsworthy over and above anything else he did, led Harry to believe that the Wizarding world wouldn’t much care.

That’s something, Harry thought. Now, all he had to do was convince Ron that this relationship wasn’t going to threaten their friendship. Whether or not it threatened their lives and that of a large proportion of the rest of Wizardkind was something else…

TBC

busy

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

nimielle.livejournal.com

OH MY GOD! :D

I just read all three parts, because what's better on your day off, than stay in bed with your jimjams on all day and reading H/D ficlets?! :D

I love how this is all still unresolved, but how all those glorious possibilities can already be made out at the horizon. ♥

That scene in the bed with their hands was incredibly beautiful, tender and touching. ♥ (I think that was in part 2(?) but I didn't want to spam your inbox).

Cannot wait to read how this'll turn out.

Ever your devoted fangirl,
me
;)

From:

Fic: Young & the Restless, Part 3

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