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nursedarryTitle: I Bet You Wonder How I Knew…
Summary: People say believe half of what you see, son, and none of what you hear. Prompt was: Draco heard from Pansy, who heard from Daphne, who heard from Padma, who heard from Parvati, who heard from Lavender, who heard from Ron, that Harry woke up with sticky sheets and Draco's name on his lips.
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Lavender
Warnings: Someone puts his mouth all over someone else’s cock. Then he does some other stuff. Oh wait, that should have been the summary, not the warning. Also, in order to move along what passes for a plot, there’s lots of tits and a bit of het in this, though nothing too scary.
Word Count: ~5000
Author's Notes: Beta goddess are![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
delphipsmith and cassie_black12. Title is courtesy of Motown Records. And I promise, once you start humming it, that song is in your head all damn day — anyone who’s ever seen The Big Chill will tell you that. Written for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dracotops_harry fest 2011.
o0o0o0o0o0o
“Hey mate, are you okay? It’s a dream. He’s not here; he can’t hurt you.” Ron tore the bed curtains back, keen to reassure Harry that he was in no danger.
“Uh… What?” Harry asked, scrabbling for his glasses on the night table. A strange look crossed his face as he settled back against the headboard. He shifted his legs under the bedclothes and frowned.
“Um, are you all right? You were dreaming, shouting out Malfoy’s name. He’s not here; he’s down in the dungeons. He can’t hurt you.” Ron was starting to get worried.
Harry’s face went very red and he nodded curtly. “I’m fine, Ron. Thanks.” He leaned forward and pulled the curtains back into place without another word.
As he turned away, Ron heard Harry mutter a spell. A spell with which Ron was more than familiar. What did that mean? What the hell had Harry been dreaming? Ron shrugged his shoulders at the other boys in the dorm who’d looked over, and went to get ready for breakfast.
o0o0o0o0o0o
Lavender pulled Ron’s head from her cleavage and giggled. “You really do like those, don’t you?” Ron resisted the urge to return his head to her chest and contented himself with fondling her instead. “Hey, I’m up here.” She smiled as she said it. She liked that Ron had a thing for her breasts.
Ron’s gaze flicked up to Lavender’s eyes, but quickly returned to the lace-clad flesh. “How can someone not love breasts? And him, of all people? How could he like him, for Merlin’s sake?”
Lavender, sensing there might be a story behind Ron’s last comment, and being no stranger to gossip, cultivated her advantage by undoing the front-closing bra. “Who’s that, Won-Won?”
“Oh god.” The back of Ron’s ginger head was all Lavender could see as he thrust his face between her breasts and pushed the warm flesh against his slightly stubbly cheeks.
He mumbled his response, which tickled. Lavender laughed coquettishly and lifted Ron’s head up slightly. “What was that, sweetie?”
Ron kissed the top of her left breast. “Harry,” he said, and then hummed.
“Harry?” Lavender repeated, looking up and raising her eyebrows. “What about him, darling?”
Ron moved to her right breast. “He likes blokes, apparently.” Ron nuzzled her some more.
“Hmmm,” Lavender mused. “How do you know that? Kiss me there, Ron,” she said, pointing to the space between her breasts.
Ron happily obliged and then happily kept spilling his secret. “He had a dream about Malfoy this morning.”
“I see…” Lavender said, more to herself than to Ron. “But… What makes you think Harry fancies him?” She leaned back slightly, giving Ron better access.
Ron appeared grateful and happily kept talking. “He came all over himself… Mmmm….”
The grin that spread across Lavender’s face had little to do with Ron’s current activities, but she bestowed it on him nonetheless.
o0o0o0o0o0o
“You’re going to do what?” Parvati could barely believe her ears. Or contain her glee. She and Lavender sat hunched over their table before the start of Advanced Divination. At the moment, they were the only two who’d arrived for class.
Lavender sounded smug. “Their charts. To see how compatible they are.”
“But for a school assignment? You’ll have to show it the entire class!” Sometimes Parvati couldn’t fathom how bold Lavender could be.
The other girl spoke with the confidence of the true believer. “I know. Wonderful, isn’t it? Just think, everyone knows they’ve hated each other forever, but you never know… Fate might feel differently.”
Parvati smiled to herself. “I still can’t get my head round it — the two of them.” Then she turned serious. “Are you sure Ron wasn’t just winding you up? I mean, how does he know for sure?”
Lavender whispered conspiratorially, even though it was unnecessary. “Well, he never said that Draco fancied Harry, but he told me Harry had one of those dreams and was shouting Draco’s name.”
“No!”
“Yes! How amazing is that?”
Parvati’s deep brown eyes were as big as saucers. “I can’t believe it! But… I guess it does make some kind of sense, when you think about it.”
Lavender smiled. “That’s why I want to do their charts. I think they may be made for each other.”
“Wow, Lav, can you just see that?” Parvati’s eyes glazed over. “Those two… together…”
o0o0o0o0o
The following day, Parvati and her twin stood in the owlery, attaching a note to their family owl.
Padma looked at the parchment her sister had tied with a red ribbon. “Have you written back to Stuart yet?”
“Stuart?” Parvati’s brows furrowed. “Who’s Stuart?” The girls released the large bird and watched as it flew from the window out into the Scottish sunset.
Padme smirked at her sister. “You know, the son of that friend of Mum’s who you went out with.” They started back to the door of the tall building.
Parvati suddenly stopped, remembering now to whom her sister referred. “Oh, him. No! I told you he was boring; that date was so dull!”
Padma sat down on the owlery steps. Parvati joined her and together they watched the sun sink lower. “Why are all the available boys so annoying?” Padma asked, sounding wistful and a little perturbed.
Parvati jerked upright. “Oh my god! I forgot! I have to tell you something — promise?” She held out the little finger of her right hand.
Padma’s eye got wide. “You know I do.” she said, linking her right little finger with her sister’s and giving it a squeeze. “Promise.”
Satisfied that their Secret Pact was in place, Parvati continued. “You’ll never guess who Harry Potter fancies.”
Padma frowned. “It’s not you, is it? He had his chance with you already.”
Parvati giggled at the thought. “Ugh, no. Not me. He’s the most boring of the lot. He may have done lots of stuff, but you know what he’s like; he can’t carry on a conversation to save his life.”
“Is it someone in your house?”
Now Parvati grinned. “Uh-uh. Someone in the last house you’d expect!”
“No, really?” Padma rubbed her hands together.
Parvati was enjoying this immensely. She couldn’t wait to pass on the information. “Really.”
“It’s not Pansy, is it?”
Parvati shushed her as a student walked up the path to the owlery. The two girls made way for her to go in, and then scooted down a couple of steps. The huge room behind them became noisy as the owls all squawked at the new arrival.
“No, not Pansy.” Parvati said.
“Daphne Greengrass?” Padma hissed, for that had been the student who’d just entered the owlery.
“No. You’re never going to guess.” Parvati’s voice rose in volume in excitement and to be heard over the noisy birds behind her.
“I will!” Padma said, loudly now.
“You won’t! I bet you anything.” Parvati was enjoying this game. She couldn’t wait to see her sister’s face when she divulged the answer. And there was no way that Padma would guess if she kept on this track.
“Millicent?” Padma mused to herself. “No, can’t be her, can it? She already has a boyfriend.”
“No, not her.” Parvati lowered her voice. The owls had finally settled, but continued to hoot softly.
Padma had had enough. “Give me a clue, at least.”
Parvati stared off into the sunset and thought. Then her mouth turned up at the corners again. “You’re guessing the wrong… gender.”
Padma’s reply was instantaneous. “What? Really? Oh my god! How wonderful! Let me think… Is he good looking?”
Parvati figured she’d put her sister out of her misery. There was only one Slytherin boy they agreed was good-looking. “Well, we’ve always thought so”.
“Hmmm… A good looking boy in Slytherin we both think is… IT’S DRACO MALFOY! HARRY POTTER FANCIES DRACO MALFOY! Oh my god, I don’t believe it!”
Even the owls were stunned into silence.
Parvati shushed her again and gave a satisfied smile. “I told you.”
“You’ve completely made that up!” Even though Parvati knew she didn’t, Padma sounded like she needed convincing.
“I have not. Why would I?”
“How — how could you possibly know?”
“Well,” Parvati scooted even closer. “Apparently, Ron told Lavender that Harry had woken up calling Draco’s name. At first, Ron thought he was having a nightmare, but he’d… you know.” She pointed toward her groin. “In his sheets.”
Both sisters squealed in disgusted glee. The owls screeched in agreement
Padma wrinkled her shapely nose. “In his sheets? He — he – that’s so gross. And brilliant. I can’t wait to see what happens! Do you think he’ll say something to Draco?”
Parvati barked out a laugh. “This is Harry we’re talking about. I don’t think so.”
“But he’s, you know, a hero. He defeated He Who Must Not Be Named. Maybe Harry’s changed. He’s braver, now,” Padma insisted.
Parvati shook her head. “If he were brave, don’t you think he’d have said or done something before now? Instead of… you know. Hmmm… I wonder what he was dreaming about.”
Padma giggled. “Probably the same thing I would have been. He might be a prat, but Draco’s still lovely.”
“Don’t let Harry hear you say that.”
“Or anyone else, ha!”
“Yeah. Can you just imagine what Draco would do if he found out?” Parvati saw images of hexes flying in all directions.
Padma sighed. “I certainly would love to see it, though. You know, them together.”
Parvati’s eyes glazed over. “Naked together…”
Padma swatted her arm. “You’re bad. But I agree completely. C’mon, we’ll be late to supper. I’ve got tonnes to do after and I can’t be late for prefect rounds.”
They rose from the stairs and walked back to the castle without a second glance behind. Had they looked over their shoulders, they would have seen Daphne Greengrass, mouth agape, peering after them.
o0o0o0o0o0o
Pansy admired herself in the mirror.
“Lovely,” it said to her.
Pansy was sure she heard a smirk in its voice. That was the cue she needed. “Marvellous. I’ll have this one, then,” she said to the saleslady.
The woman nodded as Pansy preened some more.
“It’s just not fair,” said Daphne Greengrass from the comfortable dressing room chaise on which she sat.
“What’s not fair?” asked Pansy, catching Daphne’s eye in the mirror.
Daphne sighed. “Why can’t I have breasts like that?” She nodded toward Pansy’s reflection and then looked down at her own chest. She was pretty enough, but her breasts were smaller than Pansy’s. Of course, that description fit almost every girl at Hogwarts, with the exception of maybe Lavender Brown.
Pansy took one last look at herself in the new fuzzy —tight — red sweater, and returned to her dressing room, pulling closed the heavy jacquard curtain. “Well, we can’t always have what we want, can we?” she called. “I want Ron Weasley…” She paused and smiled to herself. “Although, you never know — this jumper might lure him away from that tart.”
“See? That is getting what you want!” Daphne whined.
“Hardly, I still have to work for it. Millie wants to ditch Greg and marry Snape — that’s never gonna happen. Draco wants Potter — and the best tight sweater in the world isn’t going to get him what he’s after.”
“WHAT?” At that decibel, Daphne’s voice carried through the heavy drapes of Magical Monsoon’s dressing room and probably through the wall and into the shop beyond.
Pansy pulled the sweater off and adjusted herself before pulling her blouse over her shoulders. The mirrors in the dressing rooms were either not magical or charmed into silence. “I said, there isn’t a jumper anywhere that Draco could wear—”
“I know what you said about the jumper,” Daphne interrupted. “What did you say about Draco fancying Potter?”
Pansy emerged from behind the curtain and met Daphne at the chaise. She was standing now, her face a mask of surprise.
“He does. I didn’t think it was a secret. You must be the last to know.”
“I guess so.” Daphne had the biggest grin on her face Pansy had ever seen.
“Hmm. Maybe it was a secret. Oh well.” Pansy said, unconcerned.
“Well, if it’s secrets you’re after, I’ve got one for you!” Daphne was nearly jumping up and down.
“What is it? You look like you’re fit to burst!”
“Promise not to tell. Anyone, this time?” Daphne narrowed her eyes at her friend.
“Of course,” Pansy reassured her.
Daphne looked around the dressing room, glancing into every cubicle to ensure their complete privacy. “I don’t think Draco’s going to need that sweater…”
o0o0o0o0o0o
Tea time at Hogwarts was usually a noisy affair. Whilst breakfast and lunch were meals one ate in one’s own time— if at all — dinner was usually well-attended from the time it was served. Most people were keen to catch up with housemates with whom they’d not shared classes and make plans for study or leisure time.
So it was all the more rare and exciting when one voice could be heard above the din.
“He WHAT?”
Every pair of eyes in the Great Hall turned to look at Draco Malfoy, but he was staring at only one of them. Instinctively, Harry turned and looked behind him. Of course, no one was there. Draco had, indeed, fixed his steely gaze on him.
Pansy leant over and whispered something in his ear, but he brusquely pulled away and said in a very loud voice, “I’m going to do more than cause a scene!” His eyes never left Harry’s.
Harry figured Draco was angry at him for something. He always was. Harry sighed. No doubt Draco would confront him in the corridor, safe within the circle of his bodyguards and housemates, and inform Harry of this latest transgression.
He was very surprised then, when Draco leapt out of his chair and followed Harry on his own out of the Great Hall as soon as the Gryffindors had passed through the door.
He had a scowl on his face and a determined spring in his step. Without pausing, he grabbed Harry by the wrist and tugged him away from his friends.
He led Harry down the corridor at a fast clip and didn’t stop until they reached an alcove occupied by a rusty suit of armour. He shoved Harry up against it with a hollow clang.
“Malfoy, get off me! What’s this all about? What could I have possibly done now to offend you?” Harry frowned.
Draco just stared at him for a moment; it was incredibly disconcerting. Then he did something else that made Harry both suspicious and not a little perplexed. He looked down at Harry’s body, and then back up to his face again. Whatever Draco had in store, it obviously involved sizing Harry up. He unconsciously went for his wand but Draco pressed a hand to his arm, halting the motion. Harry let him. After all, it wasn’t every day Draco touched him, and Harry was all for more of that.
Now Draco leaned in, confusing Harry even more. There was no escape; he couldn’t press himself any further into the wall than he already was.
“I hear you have a thing for me, Potter,” Draco said casually. Or at least that was probably what he was aiming for. It would have sounded a lot more nonchalant had his voice not cracked in the middle of the sentence.
“Huh?” Harry was completely gobsmacked. He couldn’t believe his ears. He blushed profusely nonetheless.
“I said, word is that you fancy me.” Draco leaned back now and folded his arms. This was a posture with which Harry was more familiar.
“In your dreams, Malfoy,” Harry said, trying to sound more arrogant than his personality allowed.
“It’s your dreams that I want to talk about,” Draco said, with a snide smile.
Harry went white. Then he went nine shades of red. “This cannot be happening.”
“It’s happening, Potter,” Draco assured him.
Harry was nearly at a loss for words. After all, what did one say in this circumstance? “I don’t know what… I’m really sorry.”
“Did you not hear what I said? It’s happening. Now, come with me.” He grabbed Harry’s wrist again and pulled him towards the one place Harry had been hoping to avoid for the rest of his tenure at Hogwarts.
“W-Where?” Harry stammered.
“You know where!” He stopped and gestured toward the flight of stairs which would lead them inexorably to the dungeons. “Don’t you want to?”
“Um… Huh?”
“Potter, how did you ever pass your classes?” This time it sounded as if there were true feeling behind Draco’s words — true bewilderment.
Draco led the way down the stairs to the entrance of the Slytherin common room and dormitories. The door opened at his muttered ”Reconciliation.” Not stopping in the common room, and ignoring the surprised looks of the few Slytherins they passed, he marched Harry down a short flight of steps to a smaller door, which they sailed through.
Finally, Draco released him as they stood in the midst of what was obviously a dormitory. Probably his. Harry wondered which bed was Draco’s until the other’s voice broke through his musings.
“Okay, tell me what is going through that head of yours.”
Harry looked at the floor, the green bed-curtains, the grey stone walls, everywhere but at Draco. “Malfoy… This is really embarrassing.”
“I think we’ve established that. In fact, now that we’re down here together, we should probably never leave for fear of what people will say. But seeing as you’ve gone and told the world—”
“I never said anything to anyone!” Harry finally made eye-contact, but his plastered-on mask of outrage wavered as Draco stared back at him. Draco had the loveliest long eyelashes. How had he never noticed that before?
Draco smirked. “You never said anything about coming all over yourself while crying out my name?”
“Oh Merlin…” Harry looked away again and when that didn’t curb his embarrassment, he buried his face in his hands.
When he risked a glance upwards, Draco’s smirk had disappeared. “So, it’s true. Pansy told me.”
“What? How did Pansy find that out? Shit!” Some of Harry's embarrassment turned to anger, which he found much easier to deal with.
Draco grinned. It was most disconcerting. “Potter, have you ever tried to keep a secret in this place?”
Harry smiled back weakly. “Uh…yeah, I see your point.”
“Tell me about the dream.” Draco sounded earnest.
“Malfoy, I — I can’t. It’s too, too…”
“I really want to know what we were doing.” Draco did sound as though he were sincere. Harry had always reckoned that was a sure sign he wasn’t.
“Why? So you can take the piss out of me for the next hundred years?”
“No, Potter.” Draco took a step closer and Harry backed up until he was pressed against the wall. “I want to know.” Draco’s chest brushed against Harry’s as all regard for personal space was once again ignored. “Because, I bet the real me could do a lot better than whatever you dreamed up. Now,” Draco continued, as Harry’s jaw dropped. “Tell me what we did.”
Harry stared into Draco’s eyes. He sounded serious, he looked serious. Harry dared to think maybe this time, Draco was serious.
Before Harry could further analyse the meaning of Draco’s words, Draco closed the remaining distance between them and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to Harry’s lips. Harry’s body instantly responded. While his mouth hesitated under the unexpected attention, his cock hardened in record time. His embarrassment doubled as he realised that with their proximity, there was no way Draco wouldn’t notice.
“Did we do this in your dream?” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips.
“Yes,” Harry gasped. Then his hands, seemingly also having a mind of their own, reached up and buried themselves in Draco’s hair.
Draco broke away from the kiss. “Mmmm,” he moaned and Harry felt his body respond in a similar fashion.
Harry smiled. “I did that,” he said. “A lot.”
“Good.” Draco attached his lips to Harry’s throat and his arms snaked their way around Harry’s back. Harry obligingly leaned further into Draco in order to make the movement easier.
Harry continued massaging Draco’s scalp as Draco’s lips slowly worked their way back to Harry’s mouth. Just as Harry thought about how nice Draco’s tongue tasted, Draco evidently decided it would be quite nice to grasp Harry’s buttocks.
“I must have done that, didn’t I?” Draco asked when Harry had finished gasping some more.
“No,” Harry said, head against Draco’s shoulder. “But I think you should keep — keep—” He broke off to mouth the material of Draco’s jumper to keep from biting through his lip. Draco must have tired of groping Harry’s bum through the heavy denim because he pushed his hands into Harry’s trousers and pants.
“Malfoy…” Harry rasped. “I’m gonna, you’re gonna have to stop, or I’m gonna…” Draco’s hands immediately stopped moving as he pulled back and tried to make eye-contact. Harry resisted, embarrassed, aroused, and still hugely confused. Only half an hour ago, he was sure Draco was leading him down here to quietly kill him. That didn’t appear to be on the agenda now, unless he was planning to slay Harry with pleasure.
Harry decided he could go with that plan. But he was uncomfortable admitting to Draco the things he’d dreamt. It’d been a selfish dream, he’d done very little to the other boy, allowing himself to be taken, to lie back and just enjoy…
“How long?” Draco asked, suddenly more serious. The flippancy of his earlier comments seemed greatly at odds with his current expression. “How long have you been dreaming about me?”
“A long time,” Harry said. He knew what Draco was asking. At least he thought he did. “Since before I ever admitted it to myself.” He sighed, and looked away. “You?”
Draco sighed and looked thoughtful. The action was so incongruous with his standard demeanour that Harry had a difficult time believing this was actually real, and not just another empty fantasy. “Since the summer after sixth year.”
Harry thought about the little he knew of Hogwarts during the time he’d been away. It would be interesting to get the Slytherin opinion, seeing as he had heard the stories from those in the other Houses. “Was it terrible for you… that year, seventh year?”
But Draco wasn’t interested in giving it. “Not as terrible as it was for you, I should think.”
Both boys were quiet for a time, lost in personal reflection. Or perhaps trying to be less reflective. Some of Harry’s dreams weren’t as good as the ones he’d just been telling Draco about. Finally he spoke. “Yeah, it was pretty bad.”
“The Prophet said you did some extraordinary things.”
“I wouldn’t believe everything you read in the Prophet.” Harry sighed. Never, it seemed, would people be allowed to know the real him.
Draco scoffed, “I don’t. According to them, you’re engaged to Weasley’s sister.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not, are you?”
“Malfoy, Ginny and Dean are attached at the hip. Or did you not happen to notice them in the Great Hall? Or in the corridors? Or on the grounds? Or in Hogsmeade?”
“To tell the truth, Potter, I haven’t been looking at Weasley’s sister. Or at Thomas.”
Harry smiled at the inference. “I’m not engaged to her.”
“Good.” Draco fell to his knees in front of Harry and went to work on his jeans. Harry gasped and flattened himself against the wall, palms pressed into the stone, trying to hang on for dear life, as Draco pulled the denim jeans and cotton pants down Harry’s legs.
“Jesus!” What a way to change the mood. But strange things were happening this night, and Harry was content to let them happen.
Draco looked up at him and Harry almost fainted. His grey eyes were darkened with lust, Draco’s lips were parted; Harry could feel his breath against the tender skin of his groin.
“Did I do this?”
“Aguhnghggh?” Harry coughed, cleared his throat, and willed himself to be less embarrassed.
“In your dream, Potter. Did I do this?” He reached out and grasped Harry’s erection.
“Yesss.” The last word was hissed, almost a whisper, and Harry watched, enrapt, as Draco buried his face between Harry’s thighs.
*
Harry sagged forward, feeling as if his body was now drained of every last drop of semen. Draco held him with gentle arms.
“I’m taking you to bed. All right?”
“God, yes,” Harry agreed. He stumbled, constrained by his pants and trousers. “Fuck.” He hopped gracelessly towards Draco’s bed, and threw himself onto it, kicking his shoes off. Draco pulled off Harry's jeans and pants and Harry laughed. “I do know how to undress myself,” he said, then continued quickly, in case Draco thought he was having a go, “But, it’s much nicer having you do it.”
Draco smirked, and climbed on top of Harry as he scooted up the bed. Harry struggled to sit up with Draco on top of him and helped pull the velvet curtains closed. Then Draco began removing his own clothes. Harry’s eyes tracked his every movement.
Finally naked, he quickly pulled Harry’s shirt over his head as Harry attempted to pull his socks off. That didn’t work very well, and they both laughed. In the end, Draco did it for him, then settled himself between Harry’s legs.
“God, I want you so much,” Draco murmured, as he pushed Harry’s knees upward.
Harry closed his eyes. This was just like his dream. But in his dream, there was no conversation, which had been a pity. Of course there was no awkwardness and messiness, but he was happy to have all that so long as he had the real Draco. Still…he wanted this to be good for both of them.
Harry’s voice was almost a whisper. “Draco, do you know what to do? I mean have you…”
Draco’s voice was also low. “Yes, I have. Have you?
Harry opened his eyes and gazed up at the face looking down at him.
“Yeah.”
Draco’s expression didn’t change. So they both weren’t new to this. Perhaps that might be a good thing.
“Want to talk about it?” Draco asked.
Harry gave him a shy smile. “Not really. You?”
Draco smiled back. It was dazzling. “No. It wasn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.”
Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard something more romantic in his life.
*
Draco did know what he was doing. And Harry loved the way Draco’s silver-blond fringe fell into his face as he moved above Harry, loved the way he never stopped looking down at him, as if just as concerned for his comfort and pleasure as he was for his own. Again, Harry was seeing a side of Draco he never knew existed. If only they hadn’t wasted so much time.
It suddenly occurred to Harry, in the midst of the most amazing sensations he'd ever experienced, that he — that they — could have been feeling them so much sooner if things had been different. A brief sigh escaped his lips at the thought of how things might have been.
Draco stopped his gentle thrusting and frowned. He said nothing, but his expression asked the obvious question.
Harry smiled. “I’m fine. I was just thinking of what tossers we’ve both been.”
Draco smirked, and once again began slowly moving in and out of Harry. “Well I know you have…”
Although tempting, Harry resisted the urge to pinch him somewhere quite sensitive, and instead opted for clenching his muscles around Draco’s cock.
“Potter…” Draco warned.
“I didn’t do anything,” Harry said as innocently as he could, considering his position.
Draco stopped any further argument by leaning down and kissing him.
o0o0o0o0o0o
“Oh, Won-won!” Lavender cried out as Ron collapsed next to her on the bed. He really must encourage her to call him by his given name, he thought. Already his family had started calling him Won-Won, and worse. Much worse.
He propped himself up momentarily and peeked through the curtains. Still no one around. He wondered if Malfoy had beaten Harry to a pulp after leaving the Great Hall. No one had seen them for the last four hours.
“What’s the matter?” Lavender asked. She sat up and adjusted her underclothes. Ron was rather fond of her underclothes and he dragged her back down to snuggle with her for a few more minutes.
“Nothing, it’s just so quiet in here tonight. And I’m kind of worried about Harry. The last time I saw him, Malfoy was dragging him down to the dungeons.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Lavender’s voice got very excited and she scooted closer. “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight. As I was leaving the library, Parvati told me that Padma told her that Daphne told her that Pansy told her that, when she got back to the dungeons after tea, she heard Draco calling out Harry’s name.”
The End
Summary: People say believe half of what you see, son, and none of what you hear. Prompt was: Draco heard from Pansy, who heard from Daphne, who heard from Padma, who heard from Parvati, who heard from Lavender, who heard from Ron, that Harry woke up with sticky sheets and Draco's name on his lips.
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Lavender
Warnings: Someone puts his mouth all over someone else’s cock. Then he does some other stuff. Oh wait, that should have been the summary, not the warning. Also, in order to move along what passes for a plot, there’s lots of tits and a bit of het in this, though nothing too scary.
Word Count: ~5000
Author's Notes: Beta goddess are
delphipsmith and cassie_black12. Title is courtesy of Motown Records. And I promise, once you start humming it, that song is in your head all damn day — anyone who’s ever seen The Big Chill will tell you that. Written for the dracotops_harry fest 2011.“Hey mate, are you okay? It’s a dream. He’s not here; he can’t hurt you.” Ron tore the bed curtains back, keen to reassure Harry that he was in no danger.
“Uh… What?” Harry asked, scrabbling for his glasses on the night table. A strange look crossed his face as he settled back against the headboard. He shifted his legs under the bedclothes and frowned.
“Um, are you all right? You were dreaming, shouting out Malfoy’s name. He’s not here; he’s down in the dungeons. He can’t hurt you.” Ron was starting to get worried.
Harry’s face went very red and he nodded curtly. “I’m fine, Ron. Thanks.” He leaned forward and pulled the curtains back into place without another word.
As he turned away, Ron heard Harry mutter a spell. A spell with which Ron was more than familiar. What did that mean? What the hell had Harry been dreaming? Ron shrugged his shoulders at the other boys in the dorm who’d looked over, and went to get ready for breakfast.
Lavender pulled Ron’s head from her cleavage and giggled. “You really do like those, don’t you?” Ron resisted the urge to return his head to her chest and contented himself with fondling her instead. “Hey, I’m up here.” She smiled as she said it. She liked that Ron had a thing for her breasts.
Ron’s gaze flicked up to Lavender’s eyes, but quickly returned to the lace-clad flesh. “How can someone not love breasts? And him, of all people? How could he like him, for Merlin’s sake?”
Lavender, sensing there might be a story behind Ron’s last comment, and being no stranger to gossip, cultivated her advantage by undoing the front-closing bra. “Who’s that, Won-Won?”
“Oh god.” The back of Ron’s ginger head was all Lavender could see as he thrust his face between her breasts and pushed the warm flesh against his slightly stubbly cheeks.
He mumbled his response, which tickled. Lavender laughed coquettishly and lifted Ron’s head up slightly. “What was that, sweetie?”
Ron kissed the top of her left breast. “Harry,” he said, and then hummed.
“Harry?” Lavender repeated, looking up and raising her eyebrows. “What about him, darling?”
Ron moved to her right breast. “He likes blokes, apparently.” Ron nuzzled her some more.
“Hmmm,” Lavender mused. “How do you know that? Kiss me there, Ron,” she said, pointing to the space between her breasts.
Ron happily obliged and then happily kept spilling his secret. “He had a dream about Malfoy this morning.”
“I see…” Lavender said, more to herself than to Ron. “But… What makes you think Harry fancies him?” She leaned back slightly, giving Ron better access.
Ron appeared grateful and happily kept talking. “He came all over himself… Mmmm….”
The grin that spread across Lavender’s face had little to do with Ron’s current activities, but she bestowed it on him nonetheless.
“You’re going to do what?” Parvati could barely believe her ears. Or contain her glee. She and Lavender sat hunched over their table before the start of Advanced Divination. At the moment, they were the only two who’d arrived for class.
Lavender sounded smug. “Their charts. To see how compatible they are.”
“But for a school assignment? You’ll have to show it the entire class!” Sometimes Parvati couldn’t fathom how bold Lavender could be.
The other girl spoke with the confidence of the true believer. “I know. Wonderful, isn’t it? Just think, everyone knows they’ve hated each other forever, but you never know… Fate might feel differently.”
Parvati smiled to herself. “I still can’t get my head round it — the two of them.” Then she turned serious. “Are you sure Ron wasn’t just winding you up? I mean, how does he know for sure?”
Lavender whispered conspiratorially, even though it was unnecessary. “Well, he never said that Draco fancied Harry, but he told me Harry had one of those dreams and was shouting Draco’s name.”
“No!”
“Yes! How amazing is that?”
Parvati’s deep brown eyes were as big as saucers. “I can’t believe it! But… I guess it does make some kind of sense, when you think about it.”
Lavender smiled. “That’s why I want to do their charts. I think they may be made for each other.”
“Wow, Lav, can you just see that?” Parvati’s eyes glazed over. “Those two… together…”
The following day, Parvati and her twin stood in the owlery, attaching a note to their family owl.
Padma looked at the parchment her sister had tied with a red ribbon. “Have you written back to Stuart yet?”
“Stuart?” Parvati’s brows furrowed. “Who’s Stuart?” The girls released the large bird and watched as it flew from the window out into the Scottish sunset.
Padme smirked at her sister. “You know, the son of that friend of Mum’s who you went out with.” They started back to the door of the tall building.
Parvati suddenly stopped, remembering now to whom her sister referred. “Oh, him. No! I told you he was boring; that date was so dull!”
Padma sat down on the owlery steps. Parvati joined her and together they watched the sun sink lower. “Why are all the available boys so annoying?” Padma asked, sounding wistful and a little perturbed.
Parvati jerked upright. “Oh my god! I forgot! I have to tell you something — promise?” She held out the little finger of her right hand.
Padma’s eye got wide. “You know I do.” she said, linking her right little finger with her sister’s and giving it a squeeze. “Promise.”
Satisfied that their Secret Pact was in place, Parvati continued. “You’ll never guess who Harry Potter fancies.”
Padma frowned. “It’s not you, is it? He had his chance with you already.”
Parvati giggled at the thought. “Ugh, no. Not me. He’s the most boring of the lot. He may have done lots of stuff, but you know what he’s like; he can’t carry on a conversation to save his life.”
“Is it someone in your house?”
Now Parvati grinned. “Uh-uh. Someone in the last house you’d expect!”
“No, really?” Padma rubbed her hands together.
Parvati was enjoying this immensely. She couldn’t wait to pass on the information. “Really.”
“It’s not Pansy, is it?”
Parvati shushed her as a student walked up the path to the owlery. The two girls made way for her to go in, and then scooted down a couple of steps. The huge room behind them became noisy as the owls all squawked at the new arrival.
“No, not Pansy.” Parvati said.
“Daphne Greengrass?” Padma hissed, for that had been the student who’d just entered the owlery.
“No. You’re never going to guess.” Parvati’s voice rose in volume in excitement and to be heard over the noisy birds behind her.
“I will!” Padma said, loudly now.
“You won’t! I bet you anything.” Parvati was enjoying this game. She couldn’t wait to see her sister’s face when she divulged the answer. And there was no way that Padma would guess if she kept on this track.
“Millicent?” Padma mused to herself. “No, can’t be her, can it? She already has a boyfriend.”
“No, not her.” Parvati lowered her voice. The owls had finally settled, but continued to hoot softly.
Padma had had enough. “Give me a clue, at least.”
Parvati stared off into the sunset and thought. Then her mouth turned up at the corners again. “You’re guessing the wrong… gender.”
Padma’s reply was instantaneous. “What? Really? Oh my god! How wonderful! Let me think… Is he good looking?”
Parvati figured she’d put her sister out of her misery. There was only one Slytherin boy they agreed was good-looking. “Well, we’ve always thought so”.
“Hmmm… A good looking boy in Slytherin we both think is… IT’S DRACO MALFOY! HARRY POTTER FANCIES DRACO MALFOY! Oh my god, I don’t believe it!”
Even the owls were stunned into silence.
Parvati shushed her again and gave a satisfied smile. “I told you.”
“You’ve completely made that up!” Even though Parvati knew she didn’t, Padma sounded like she needed convincing.
“I have not. Why would I?”
“How — how could you possibly know?”
“Well,” Parvati scooted even closer. “Apparently, Ron told Lavender that Harry had woken up calling Draco’s name. At first, Ron thought he was having a nightmare, but he’d… you know.” She pointed toward her groin. “In his sheets.”
Both sisters squealed in disgusted glee. The owls screeched in agreement
Padma wrinkled her shapely nose. “In his sheets? He — he – that’s so gross. And brilliant. I can’t wait to see what happens! Do you think he’ll say something to Draco?”
Parvati barked out a laugh. “This is Harry we’re talking about. I don’t think so.”
“But he’s, you know, a hero. He defeated He Who Must Not Be Named. Maybe Harry’s changed. He’s braver, now,” Padma insisted.
Parvati shook her head. “If he were brave, don’t you think he’d have said or done something before now? Instead of… you know. Hmmm… I wonder what he was dreaming about.”
Padma giggled. “Probably the same thing I would have been. He might be a prat, but Draco’s still lovely.”
“Don’t let Harry hear you say that.”
“Or anyone else, ha!”
“Yeah. Can you just imagine what Draco would do if he found out?” Parvati saw images of hexes flying in all directions.
Padma sighed. “I certainly would love to see it, though. You know, them together.”
Parvati’s eyes glazed over. “Naked together…”
Padma swatted her arm. “You’re bad. But I agree completely. C’mon, we’ll be late to supper. I’ve got tonnes to do after and I can’t be late for prefect rounds.”
They rose from the stairs and walked back to the castle without a second glance behind. Had they looked over their shoulders, they would have seen Daphne Greengrass, mouth agape, peering after them.
Pansy admired herself in the mirror.
“Lovely,” it said to her.
Pansy was sure she heard a smirk in its voice. That was the cue she needed. “Marvellous. I’ll have this one, then,” she said to the saleslady.
The woman nodded as Pansy preened some more.
“It’s just not fair,” said Daphne Greengrass from the comfortable dressing room chaise on which she sat.
“What’s not fair?” asked Pansy, catching Daphne’s eye in the mirror.
Daphne sighed. “Why can’t I have breasts like that?” She nodded toward Pansy’s reflection and then looked down at her own chest. She was pretty enough, but her breasts were smaller than Pansy’s. Of course, that description fit almost every girl at Hogwarts, with the exception of maybe Lavender Brown.
Pansy took one last look at herself in the new fuzzy —tight — red sweater, and returned to her dressing room, pulling closed the heavy jacquard curtain. “Well, we can’t always have what we want, can we?” she called. “I want Ron Weasley…” She paused and smiled to herself. “Although, you never know — this jumper might lure him away from that tart.”
“See? That is getting what you want!” Daphne whined.
“Hardly, I still have to work for it. Millie wants to ditch Greg and marry Snape — that’s never gonna happen. Draco wants Potter — and the best tight sweater in the world isn’t going to get him what he’s after.”
“WHAT?” At that decibel, Daphne’s voice carried through the heavy drapes of Magical Monsoon’s dressing room and probably through the wall and into the shop beyond.
Pansy pulled the sweater off and adjusted herself before pulling her blouse over her shoulders. The mirrors in the dressing rooms were either not magical or charmed into silence. “I said, there isn’t a jumper anywhere that Draco could wear—”
“I know what you said about the jumper,” Daphne interrupted. “What did you say about Draco fancying Potter?”
Pansy emerged from behind the curtain and met Daphne at the chaise. She was standing now, her face a mask of surprise.
“He does. I didn’t think it was a secret. You must be the last to know.”
“I guess so.” Daphne had the biggest grin on her face Pansy had ever seen.
“Hmm. Maybe it was a secret. Oh well.” Pansy said, unconcerned.
“Well, if it’s secrets you’re after, I’ve got one for you!” Daphne was nearly jumping up and down.
“What is it? You look like you’re fit to burst!”
“Promise not to tell. Anyone, this time?” Daphne narrowed her eyes at her friend.
“Of course,” Pansy reassured her.
Daphne looked around the dressing room, glancing into every cubicle to ensure their complete privacy. “I don’t think Draco’s going to need that sweater…”
Tea time at Hogwarts was usually a noisy affair. Whilst breakfast and lunch were meals one ate in one’s own time— if at all — dinner was usually well-attended from the time it was served. Most people were keen to catch up with housemates with whom they’d not shared classes and make plans for study or leisure time.
So it was all the more rare and exciting when one voice could be heard above the din.
“He WHAT?”
Every pair of eyes in the Great Hall turned to look at Draco Malfoy, but he was staring at only one of them. Instinctively, Harry turned and looked behind him. Of course, no one was there. Draco had, indeed, fixed his steely gaze on him.
Pansy leant over and whispered something in his ear, but he brusquely pulled away and said in a very loud voice, “I’m going to do more than cause a scene!” His eyes never left Harry’s.
Harry figured Draco was angry at him for something. He always was. Harry sighed. No doubt Draco would confront him in the corridor, safe within the circle of his bodyguards and housemates, and inform Harry of this latest transgression.
He was very surprised then, when Draco leapt out of his chair and followed Harry on his own out of the Great Hall as soon as the Gryffindors had passed through the door.
He had a scowl on his face and a determined spring in his step. Without pausing, he grabbed Harry by the wrist and tugged him away from his friends.
He led Harry down the corridor at a fast clip and didn’t stop until they reached an alcove occupied by a rusty suit of armour. He shoved Harry up against it with a hollow clang.
“Malfoy, get off me! What’s this all about? What could I have possibly done now to offend you?” Harry frowned.
Draco just stared at him for a moment; it was incredibly disconcerting. Then he did something else that made Harry both suspicious and not a little perplexed. He looked down at Harry’s body, and then back up to his face again. Whatever Draco had in store, it obviously involved sizing Harry up. He unconsciously went for his wand but Draco pressed a hand to his arm, halting the motion. Harry let him. After all, it wasn’t every day Draco touched him, and Harry was all for more of that.
Now Draco leaned in, confusing Harry even more. There was no escape; he couldn’t press himself any further into the wall than he already was.
“I hear you have a thing for me, Potter,” Draco said casually. Or at least that was probably what he was aiming for. It would have sounded a lot more nonchalant had his voice not cracked in the middle of the sentence.
“Huh?” Harry was completely gobsmacked. He couldn’t believe his ears. He blushed profusely nonetheless.
“I said, word is that you fancy me.” Draco leaned back now and folded his arms. This was a posture with which Harry was more familiar.
“In your dreams, Malfoy,” Harry said, trying to sound more arrogant than his personality allowed.
“It’s your dreams that I want to talk about,” Draco said, with a snide smile.
Harry went white. Then he went nine shades of red. “This cannot be happening.”
“It’s happening, Potter,” Draco assured him.
Harry was nearly at a loss for words. After all, what did one say in this circumstance? “I don’t know what… I’m really sorry.”
“Did you not hear what I said? It’s happening. Now, come with me.” He grabbed Harry’s wrist again and pulled him towards the one place Harry had been hoping to avoid for the rest of his tenure at Hogwarts.
“W-Where?” Harry stammered.
“You know where!” He stopped and gestured toward the flight of stairs which would lead them inexorably to the dungeons. “Don’t you want to?”
“Um… Huh?”
“Potter, how did you ever pass your classes?” This time it sounded as if there were true feeling behind Draco’s words — true bewilderment.
Draco led the way down the stairs to the entrance of the Slytherin common room and dormitories. The door opened at his muttered ”Reconciliation.” Not stopping in the common room, and ignoring the surprised looks of the few Slytherins they passed, he marched Harry down a short flight of steps to a smaller door, which they sailed through.
Finally, Draco released him as they stood in the midst of what was obviously a dormitory. Probably his. Harry wondered which bed was Draco’s until the other’s voice broke through his musings.
“Okay, tell me what is going through that head of yours.”
Harry looked at the floor, the green bed-curtains, the grey stone walls, everywhere but at Draco. “Malfoy… This is really embarrassing.”
“I think we’ve established that. In fact, now that we’re down here together, we should probably never leave for fear of what people will say. But seeing as you’ve gone and told the world—”
“I never said anything to anyone!” Harry finally made eye-contact, but his plastered-on mask of outrage wavered as Draco stared back at him. Draco had the loveliest long eyelashes. How had he never noticed that before?
Draco smirked. “You never said anything about coming all over yourself while crying out my name?”
“Oh Merlin…” Harry looked away again and when that didn’t curb his embarrassment, he buried his face in his hands.
When he risked a glance upwards, Draco’s smirk had disappeared. “So, it’s true. Pansy told me.”
“What? How did Pansy find that out? Shit!” Some of Harry's embarrassment turned to anger, which he found much easier to deal with.
Draco grinned. It was most disconcerting. “Potter, have you ever tried to keep a secret in this place?”
Harry smiled back weakly. “Uh…yeah, I see your point.”
“Tell me about the dream.” Draco sounded earnest.
“Malfoy, I — I can’t. It’s too, too…”
“I really want to know what we were doing.” Draco did sound as though he were sincere. Harry had always reckoned that was a sure sign he wasn’t.
“Why? So you can take the piss out of me for the next hundred years?”
“No, Potter.” Draco took a step closer and Harry backed up until he was pressed against the wall. “I want to know.” Draco’s chest brushed against Harry’s as all regard for personal space was once again ignored. “Because, I bet the real me could do a lot better than whatever you dreamed up. Now,” Draco continued, as Harry’s jaw dropped. “Tell me what we did.”
Harry stared into Draco’s eyes. He sounded serious, he looked serious. Harry dared to think maybe this time, Draco was serious.
Before Harry could further analyse the meaning of Draco’s words, Draco closed the remaining distance between them and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to Harry’s lips. Harry’s body instantly responded. While his mouth hesitated under the unexpected attention, his cock hardened in record time. His embarrassment doubled as he realised that with their proximity, there was no way Draco wouldn’t notice.
“Did we do this in your dream?” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips.
“Yes,” Harry gasped. Then his hands, seemingly also having a mind of their own, reached up and buried themselves in Draco’s hair.
Draco broke away from the kiss. “Mmmm,” he moaned and Harry felt his body respond in a similar fashion.
Harry smiled. “I did that,” he said. “A lot.”
“Good.” Draco attached his lips to Harry’s throat and his arms snaked their way around Harry’s back. Harry obligingly leaned further into Draco in order to make the movement easier.
Harry continued massaging Draco’s scalp as Draco’s lips slowly worked their way back to Harry’s mouth. Just as Harry thought about how nice Draco’s tongue tasted, Draco evidently decided it would be quite nice to grasp Harry’s buttocks.
“I must have done that, didn’t I?” Draco asked when Harry had finished gasping some more.
“No,” Harry said, head against Draco’s shoulder. “But I think you should keep — keep—” He broke off to mouth the material of Draco’s jumper to keep from biting through his lip. Draco must have tired of groping Harry’s bum through the heavy denim because he pushed his hands into Harry’s trousers and pants.
“Malfoy…” Harry rasped. “I’m gonna, you’re gonna have to stop, or I’m gonna…” Draco’s hands immediately stopped moving as he pulled back and tried to make eye-contact. Harry resisted, embarrassed, aroused, and still hugely confused. Only half an hour ago, he was sure Draco was leading him down here to quietly kill him. That didn’t appear to be on the agenda now, unless he was planning to slay Harry with pleasure.
Harry decided he could go with that plan. But he was uncomfortable admitting to Draco the things he’d dreamt. It’d been a selfish dream, he’d done very little to the other boy, allowing himself to be taken, to lie back and just enjoy…
“How long?” Draco asked, suddenly more serious. The flippancy of his earlier comments seemed greatly at odds with his current expression. “How long have you been dreaming about me?”
“A long time,” Harry said. He knew what Draco was asking. At least he thought he did. “Since before I ever admitted it to myself.” He sighed, and looked away. “You?”
Draco sighed and looked thoughtful. The action was so incongruous with his standard demeanour that Harry had a difficult time believing this was actually real, and not just another empty fantasy. “Since the summer after sixth year.”
Harry thought about the little he knew of Hogwarts during the time he’d been away. It would be interesting to get the Slytherin opinion, seeing as he had heard the stories from those in the other Houses. “Was it terrible for you… that year, seventh year?”
But Draco wasn’t interested in giving it. “Not as terrible as it was for you, I should think.”
Both boys were quiet for a time, lost in personal reflection. Or perhaps trying to be less reflective. Some of Harry’s dreams weren’t as good as the ones he’d just been telling Draco about. Finally he spoke. “Yeah, it was pretty bad.”
“The Prophet said you did some extraordinary things.”
“I wouldn’t believe everything you read in the Prophet.” Harry sighed. Never, it seemed, would people be allowed to know the real him.
Draco scoffed, “I don’t. According to them, you’re engaged to Weasley’s sister.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not, are you?”
“Malfoy, Ginny and Dean are attached at the hip. Or did you not happen to notice them in the Great Hall? Or in the corridors? Or on the grounds? Or in Hogsmeade?”
“To tell the truth, Potter, I haven’t been looking at Weasley’s sister. Or at Thomas.”
Harry smiled at the inference. “I’m not engaged to her.”
“Good.” Draco fell to his knees in front of Harry and went to work on his jeans. Harry gasped and flattened himself against the wall, palms pressed into the stone, trying to hang on for dear life, as Draco pulled the denim jeans and cotton pants down Harry’s legs.
“Jesus!” What a way to change the mood. But strange things were happening this night, and Harry was content to let them happen.
Draco looked up at him and Harry almost fainted. His grey eyes were darkened with lust, Draco’s lips were parted; Harry could feel his breath against the tender skin of his groin.
“Did I do this?”
“Aguhnghggh?” Harry coughed, cleared his throat, and willed himself to be less embarrassed.
“In your dream, Potter. Did I do this?” He reached out and grasped Harry’s erection.
“Yesss.” The last word was hissed, almost a whisper, and Harry watched, enrapt, as Draco buried his face between Harry’s thighs.
Harry sagged forward, feeling as if his body was now drained of every last drop of semen. Draco held him with gentle arms.
“I’m taking you to bed. All right?”
“God, yes,” Harry agreed. He stumbled, constrained by his pants and trousers. “Fuck.” He hopped gracelessly towards Draco’s bed, and threw himself onto it, kicking his shoes off. Draco pulled off Harry's jeans and pants and Harry laughed. “I do know how to undress myself,” he said, then continued quickly, in case Draco thought he was having a go, “But, it’s much nicer having you do it.”
Draco smirked, and climbed on top of Harry as he scooted up the bed. Harry struggled to sit up with Draco on top of him and helped pull the velvet curtains closed. Then Draco began removing his own clothes. Harry’s eyes tracked his every movement.
Finally naked, he quickly pulled Harry’s shirt over his head as Harry attempted to pull his socks off. That didn’t work very well, and they both laughed. In the end, Draco did it for him, then settled himself between Harry’s legs.
“God, I want you so much,” Draco murmured, as he pushed Harry’s knees upward.
Harry closed his eyes. This was just like his dream. But in his dream, there was no conversation, which had been a pity. Of course there was no awkwardness and messiness, but he was happy to have all that so long as he had the real Draco. Still…he wanted this to be good for both of them.
Harry’s voice was almost a whisper. “Draco, do you know what to do? I mean have you…”
Draco’s voice was also low. “Yes, I have. Have you?
Harry opened his eyes and gazed up at the face looking down at him.
“Yeah.”
Draco’s expression didn’t change. So they both weren’t new to this. Perhaps that might be a good thing.
“Want to talk about it?” Draco asked.
Harry gave him a shy smile. “Not really. You?”
Draco smiled back. It was dazzling. “No. It wasn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.”
Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard something more romantic in his life.
Draco did know what he was doing. And Harry loved the way Draco’s silver-blond fringe fell into his face as he moved above Harry, loved the way he never stopped looking down at him, as if just as concerned for his comfort and pleasure as he was for his own. Again, Harry was seeing a side of Draco he never knew existed. If only they hadn’t wasted so much time.
It suddenly occurred to Harry, in the midst of the most amazing sensations he'd ever experienced, that he — that they — could have been feeling them so much sooner if things had been different. A brief sigh escaped his lips at the thought of how things might have been.
Draco stopped his gentle thrusting and frowned. He said nothing, but his expression asked the obvious question.
Harry smiled. “I’m fine. I was just thinking of what tossers we’ve both been.”
Draco smirked, and once again began slowly moving in and out of Harry. “Well I know you have…”
Although tempting, Harry resisted the urge to pinch him somewhere quite sensitive, and instead opted for clenching his muscles around Draco’s cock.
“Potter…” Draco warned.
“I didn’t do anything,” Harry said as innocently as he could, considering his position.
Draco stopped any further argument by leaning down and kissing him.
“Oh, Won-won!” Lavender cried out as Ron collapsed next to her on the bed. He really must encourage her to call him by his given name, he thought. Already his family had started calling him Won-Won, and worse. Much worse.
He propped himself up momentarily and peeked through the curtains. Still no one around. He wondered if Malfoy had beaten Harry to a pulp after leaving the Great Hall. No one had seen them for the last four hours.
“What’s the matter?” Lavender asked. She sat up and adjusted her underclothes. Ron was rather fond of her underclothes and he dragged her back down to snuggle with her for a few more minutes.
“Nothing, it’s just so quiet in here tonight. And I’m kind of worried about Harry. The last time I saw him, Malfoy was dragging him down to the dungeons.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Lavender’s voice got very excited and she scooted closer. “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight. As I was leaving the library, Parvati told me that Padma told her that Daphne told her that Pansy told her that, when she got back to the dungeons after tea, she heard Draco calling out Harry’s name.”
The End
