Chapter: Taking Responsibility

Disclaimer: I only own Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in the sense that I consider them - fictional though they may be - two of my best friends. Which is sad, now that I think about it. *goes off to cry in a corner over her own inadequacies*

Warnings: Sexual inuendo and a blowjob. Allusions to het.

Chapter One - Taking Responsibility

There was a time when my world
Was filled with darkness
Then I stopped dreaming now
I'm supposed to fill it up with something

In your eyes I see the eyes of somebody
I knew before, long ago

Animal - Mike Snow

Something was wrong with Potter.

No one else seemed to notice it; they were all caught up in their own lives. Either with celebrating their lives and their freedom like the Weasel and the – Granger – with their new relationship, or with moving on from their grief; like the littlest Creevey.

But Draco noticed.

He saw how tired, pale, and drawn Potter looked. How he moved listlessly through the seas of his adoring fans; how quiet he'd become. How angry.

All the Slytherins noticed that about him; in this brave new world, they needed to notice things like that to survive. But Draco seemed to be the only one to notice that anything was actually wrong.

Potter seemed to exist in a constant state of irritation; one look into his eyes should have been enough to make anyone back off.

He never snapped. Draco didn't know how he did it, considering the depth of his rage. He maintained control, thin though it might be. None of his friends or sycophants seemed aware of just how close to the edge he was.

But Draco saw how his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides, his eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring as he forced a smile through clenched teeth. He saw the ever-present fury that boiled and simmered just below the surface.

It had only been two weeks into term, but it had been long enough for Draco to realise that Potter was deeply troubled.

He knew someone needed to do something.

Who would believe him, though?

Despite Potter's testimony, Draco was widely viewed as a Death Eater gone free. Slytherin House was disgraced, but Draco was the only one who had the Dark Mark.

Since no one else noticed, and no one else would listen to him; and since someone had to do something, Draco realised that he would have to be that someone.

He didn't hate Potter anymore. Not when Potter had saved his life, killed the madman, and kept him out of Azkaban. Returned his wand and told him he was worth saving.

No, he didn't hate Potter. Far from it.

Even if he tried to deny it – like he'd denied his attraction to Potter for years before the Dark Lord had Marked him and given him bigger and more terrifying things to worry about than lusting after his nemesis – his dreams wouldn't let him.

Every night he dreamed of flames and an outstretched hand.

Potter's face, pale and pinched and desperate as he called for Draco to take his hand.

Potter's lean body, molded to his front like a second skin.

Potter's eyes, green and vibrant and saddened with the pain of one who has buried too many as he said those beautiful words: "You're worth saving. I believe in you, Malfoy. Show the world they're wrong about you."

Their hands brushing as Potter returned the wand that had defeated the Dark Lord.

Draco dreamed of things that happened, and things that hadn't.

Potter's eyes, dark with desire.

Potter's mouth, warm and wet and perfect.

His lightly muscled torso bare in the moonlight.

His hands touching Draco, caressing him.

His lips and tongue tracing lines all over Draco's body.

Draco's dreams left no doubt about how desperately he wanted Potter.

And since he no longer hated Potter, his obsession created new and complicated feelings that he didn't know how to deal with. He knew Potter too well; had harboured such strong emotions for him for too long for his attraction to turn into a simple crush.

He was halfway in love with the prat, and had no idea how to handle it.

But he couldn't help watching Potter, and had consequently become the one person in the school who realised how wrong things were.

Once Draco had accepted that he needed to do something, he was faced with another problem – what, exactly, could he do?

How could he help?

The answer came from an unlikely source.

At the start of the school year, Potter had stood up at the Welcoming Feast and made a statement about House Unity. During this speech, he had stated that no one should blame the Slytherins for anything that had happened, and he would not tolerate revenge or bullying. He mentioned Draco and Pansy by name, specifying them as people who should not be acted against for their actions; Draco's as a Death Eater, and Pansy's wanting to turn him over to Voldemort. He publically forgave all the Slytherins and asked everyone else to do the same.

The Slytherins consequently had no idea how to act towards their one-time enemy. They would normally have approached him with the intention of using his connections to better their social standing, but they could all sense his anger bubbling below the surface and had no wish to cause it to erupt. The sheer stupidity of his many fans in approaching him against his will astounded them.

They were torn between gratitude for his words on their behalf, and resentment for leaving them so wrong-footed. He made them deeply uncomfortable; so off-balance. If there's one thing a Slytherin hates, it's uncertainty. Harry Potter gave them that in spades.

One morning shortly after Draco had come to his conclusions about Potter and his responsibilities to him, the Slytherin contingent ran into the Golden Trio as they headed to breakfast.

Goyle – who had become withdrawn and quiet since the death of his best friend; even losing weight – stumbled and bumped into Potter, making him drop his books. Potter whirled around, eyes flashing. He bared his teeth and growled.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep, shaky breath. When he opened his eyes again, his mask of calm was firmly in place. The only thing that betrayed him was a tightness around his eyes and in the lines of his jaw. He forced a smile and asked, "Alright then, Goyle?"

Goyle nodded dumbly as he shifted from one foot to the other. He averted his eyes and muttered, "Sorry, Potter." He looked as though he wanted his massive bulk to disappear into the floor.

Potter just nodded back, fake smile still in place. "Don't worry about it." He kneeled down and grabbed his books, stuffing them haphazardly back into his bag. Then he stood and hurried after the other two thirds of the Gryffindor Trio; who were so wrapped up in each other that they hadn't even noticed Potter was no longer trailing along after them.

Draco wondered if anyone else had noticed that in the moment before Potter had closed his eyes, they had turned from green to hazel.

Probably not. He was the only one of the Slytherins interested enough to watch Potter's eyes.

Beside him, Pansy let out a snort. "Boy Wonder really needs to get laid."

The other Slytherins tittered, but Draco froze. His heart thundered in his chest, and it was only through years of practice that he kept his thoughts off of his face.

There was little enough he could do about Potter's deeper emotional issues without getting Potter to talk to him – an unlikely scenario at best – but his stress level was a different story.

Blaise was always saying that sex was the best stress reliever. While Potter was straight, getting a blowjob from a boy couldn't be much different from getting one from a girl.

Everyone knew that Potter wasn't getting any. The Weaselette had been soundly rebuffed whenever she'd approached him, and the story spread around the school. Everyone who approached the hero with romantic intent received the same treatment. Potter reportedly claimed he wasn't "ready to deal with a relationship right now, sorry".

But it might be different if there were no strings attached.

Draco licked his lips. The thought of having Potter's cock in his mouth made his mouth water.

He had no experience with blowjobs – giving or receiving – but he'd heard enough from Blaise that he understood the mechanics of it pretty well. He was fairly confident that he could do it properly.

He hid a smile behind a smirk as the Slytherins trooped into the Great Hall. The very thought of having sexual contact with another boy – even if it was just giving blowjobs without receiving anything back – was equal parts exciting and terrifying.

Exciting because he'd never thought he'd have the chance; made even more so by the fact that this was Potter, the object of his fantasies for so long.

Terrifying because of the prejudices his father had drilled into him for years, and the shame he'd always lived with because of what he was.

Officially, Draco and Pansy had been dating since the Yule Ball in fourth year; both had always expected a marriage contract to be drawn up between their families. Unofficially, Pansy was his best friend and the one person who knew his secret.

In their fifth year, Pansy decided she wanted to take things beyond the chaste kisses they'd exchanged up to that point. Draco only hoped she'd be able to chase away the dreams of a certain raven-haired Gryffindor he'd been having since watching the other boy face a dragon in the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year.

She straddled him on his bed when they were alone in the dorm one day; placing his hands on her breasts and kissing him. She moaned into his mouth as she ground down. Rather than being aroused, Draco found the whole thing rather awkward and embarrassing; even a little disturbing.

Pansy noticed his lack of participation after a moment, and pulled back. Glancing down, she bit her lip.

"Draco..." She paused. "You're not hard," she whispered, and Draco's cheeks burned with shame.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Am I not pretty enough?" She sniffled. "I'm not, am I? Weasley was right; I have a face like a pug!"

She let out a sob and tried to pull away, but Draco wrapped his arms around her and refused to let her go.

"That's not it, Pansy, I swear! It's not your fault!" He couldn't let his best friend be hurt like this; even at the expense of his shameful secret. "It's not you that I'm not attracted to; it's girls!"

Pansy froze, shock etched on her features. Draco began speaking hurriedly, stumbling over his words.

"Please don't tell anyone, Pans! I – I had hoped I was wrong, but – I mean, if I could be with anyone I would want to be with you, but – I don't – I can't – oh, Merlin, Pans; I know you won't want to marry me now and you'll want to break up, but please, please don't tell anyone! If my father finds out..." Draco choked. "Please," he whispered, head bowed in shame, cheeks flaming.

Pansy tilted his chin up with her fingers, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Draco."

He met her stare miserably.

"What exactly were you planning to do when we got married?"

He swallowed. "I... I hoped I was wrong. If not... well, there are potions. I was going to study until I was skilled enough to brew them. I... I would have been good to you, Pans."

A sad smile flitted across her features. "I know you would." She paused. "So the only thing that needs to change now is that you be completely honest with me."

Draco started. "Pans?"

She gave him another sad smile. "We'll still date; I just won't expect anything from you. You have until our parents formally announce our engagement after graduation to change your mind. If you don't change your mind, I only ask that you don't shame me. If you expect me to go through with this, I expect you to be faithful."

Draco nodded dumbly. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. He knew he'd never change his mind, but it was nice of her to give him the option.

"Thank you," he whispered. He closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder.

They avoided the topic after that by mutual unspoken agreement.

That is, until a few weeks later when she brought it up again.

They were alone in the dorm again, and Draco was pacing furiously. He was fuming over Potter's latest Quidditch victory when she cut in.

"Draco, do you fancy Potter?"

Draco stopped talking and choked. "What?"

Pansy crossed her arms. "You talk about Potter all the time. You always have. So I can't help wondering."

Draco's face flushed. "I do not fancy Potter!" he declared hotly. Remembering that he'd promised to be honest with her, he amended his statement. "I admit that I... find him attractive." His face burned with shame at that admission. "But I do not fancy him! I hate him! If anything, I hate him even more because I'm attracted to him." He turned away from her. "Because every time I see him, I'm reminded of my... my weakness." He started out shouting, but finished on a whisper.

Pansy came up behind him and turned him around to face her. She wrapped her arms around him and once more he dropped his head down on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Pans."

"Idiot," she answered. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

They carried on in that fashion throughout their tumultuous sixth and farce of a seventh years.

In the fallout following the Dark Lord's defeat, Lucius used his galleons and Ministry contacts to avoid any harsher penalty than house-arrest. He then decided the Parkinsons were no longer a politically suitable match. He advised Draco to distance himself from Pansy, while he arranged "a more suitable match".

Draco owled Pansy right away. She deserved to hear it from him, at least.

Pansy owled him back to thank him, and tell him that she'd told her mother. Her father was in Azkaban, and this made her an unattractive prospect for many suitors. She'd calmed her mother's hysterics by assuring her that she had refused to sleep with Draco as long as their marriage contract had yet to be confirmed. As a virgin, she was a more attractive prospect, and her virginal status could be confirmed through a ritual.

Draco was grateful for her sake. He only hoped that news of her virginal state didn't reach Hogwarts. Blaise and maybe even Theo were sure to mock him.

The two boys were typically loners, but Blaise liked to talk after he and Daphne had been... busy. Draco always managed to escape having to share by simply shrugging and saying, "Pansy'd kill me if I talked. She'd find out somehow, and I'd be a dead man." Blaise had met Pansy, so he understood.

Even Theo managed to hook up occasionally; while Blaise had been with Daphne Greengrass since fifth year. Draco recalled his father reporting that he'd had a rather satisfying conversation with the Greengrasses uneasily. He was far too self-preserving to let his father arrange a match between himself and Blaise's girl. That was a good way to end up drinking poisoned tea or some such. Blaise's mother was famous for her ability to rid herself of unwanted husbands. Her son was sure to have picked up a few things.

But when all was said and done, at the moment Draco was a free agent. And now he had his heart set on sucking Potter's cock.

He licked his lips as he sat at the head of the Slytherin table. Tonight he would be on the hunt for a hero.

It was easier than Draco had expected to find Potter. He prowled the corridors after hours, starting at the top floor since it was closest to Potter's home base.

He found Potter around eleven, plodding along towards the Owlry. Draco flicked a quiet Silencing charm over the corridor before approaching his quarry.

"Potter."

Potter stopped, turning to him with an eyebrow raised. "Malfoy."

Draco strode towards him, heart hammering in his chest. He schooled his features into a smirk. He stopped a few inches away from Potter. "I couldn't help noticing, but you seem a little tense lately, Potter."

A muscle in Potter's jaw worked, but his tone was calm. "And what if I am, Malfoy? It's not as if there's anything you can do about it."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," whispered Draco, closing the gap between them and kissing Potter. He pressed up against his fantasy boy and wrapped his arms around him, holding him in place with a firm hand on the back of Potter's neck.

The kiss was everything and nothing like he'd thought it would be. Everything, because Potter's lips were chapped and they tasted as sweet as Draco had always thought they would. Nothing, because Potter was standing frozen as Draco's mouth moved against his, and his arms hung limp at his sides.

Just as Draco was beginning to think he'd made a horrible miscalculation; that Potter wouldn't go along with it and he was going to have to be horribly embarrassed, Potter moved.

He growled, deep in his throat, and seized Draco's arms, backing him up roughly and pressing him against the wall, kissing him back fiercely. Draco gasped as Potter pressed into him. Potter took the opportunity to drive his tongue into Draco's mouth.

The glorious feeling of Potter's lean body against his own made Draco's knees weak. And the way he kissed, with teeth and tongue and a demanding possessiveness made his head spin.

Draco moaned as Potter licked the back of his teeth and swiped his tongue along the roof of his mouth. He curled his own tongue around Potter's; kissing back with feverish intensity. His arms wound around Potter's neck and Potter's hands were on his hips, pulling him closer and grinding his own hips into Draco's.

Draco could feel Potter's cock, hard beneath his trousers as he rubbed it against Draco's own erection. He kept moaning and grinding back, while Potter kept growling and nipping his lips.

He could feel himself getting close, and didn't want it to end like this. He wanted Potter's cock; wanted to taste it, to feel it in his mouth. He didn't know if Potter would give him a repeat of things after tonight or not, so he wanted to make it as good as possible.

He turned his head away and gasped out, "Potter... stop... a moment... please?"

Potter froze. He started pulling away, looking anywhere but at Draco as he began stuttering out an apology. Draco shut him up with a kiss.

He pulled back and Potter looked suitably confused. Draco took advantage of this by spinning them around so that it was Potter who had his back against the wall. He kissed him again, and Potter kissed him back eagerly. When he pulled away Potter let out a whine.

Draco chuckled. "Patience," he whispered, and dropped to his knees. Potter sucked in a sharp breath as Draco began fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers. The unfamiliar zip on his Muggle jeans gave Draco a bit of trouble as he figured out how to work it.

"I don't... I've never..."

Draco only paused for a moment, letting that sink in. He wasn't sure if Potter meant never ever or just never with a boy, but now was not the time to ask for clarification. He looked up into luminous green eyes and smiled. "Me neither."

Potter gave him a tentative smile back, and Draco finally got his trousers open. He pulled them down to Potter's knees, and grabbed the waistband of his pants. Draco's mouth was watering and his hands shook a little.

He drew them down slowly, sucking in a breath as he stared at Potter's cock. Merlin, but it was beautiful.

Draco had never really allowed himself to look at another boys cock before. He'd covertly or inadvertently seen them in the communal showers in the dorm and the Quidditch locker rooms, but never allowed himself to just look. And certainly never from this close.

It was long and thick and utterly perfect. It was a rich pink, with a reddened tip, and it curved slightly to the left. Draco wanted it so badly he was weak with it. He wanted to taste it; wanted it inside him. He wanted so much that he would never have, but for just one short moment, he allowed himself to dream.

Potter shifted uneasily, and Draco looked up at him again, flashing him a brilliant smile. "You're beautiful," he whispered reverently.

Potter blushed. Draco's gaze was drawn down to his cock again, and this time he leaned forward and gave it an experimental lick up the underside. Potter gasped.

Draco liked the sound of that. He reached up and stroked Potter's cock gently, drawing a little mewling noise from the dark-haired boy. He lifted Potter's cock and licked the head tentatively, then more assuredly when Potter made another of those delicious sounds. He sucked the head into his mouth, and Potter cried out.

"Oh, Merlin!"

Draco smirked as he tongued the slit, hearing Potter cry out again. He was grateful for the foresight to cast a Silencing charm over the corridor. He bobbed his head, taking a little more of Potter's cock into his mouth each time. He twisted his hand around the base of Potter's cock as he did so, and Potter cried out and cursed.

"Oh, Merlin – fuck! Bloody hell – oh!"

Draco hummed and that started a whole litany of curses that made him smirk around Potter's length. He sped up, taking as much of Potter's cock into his mouth as he could. His own cock was painfully hard now, and he palmed it with his free hand.

Potter bucked and thrust into his mouth, making him choke and pull back. He grabbed Potter's hips and held him against the wall as he bobbed his head in earnest, hollowing his cheeks and sucking as hard as he could.

Potter let out a drawn out cry, and Draco looked up at him again as he sucked his cock. His eyes met Potter's, blown wide with arousal. Potter's mouth hung open in a small "o" and he was panting. Locking eyes with him, Draco gave one last hard suck, and Potter came. He gasped out, "Shit; I'm..."

Then he threw his head back and wailed. "Draco!"

The eroticism of sucking Potter's cock, coupled with the way he looked and the way he called Draco's name as he came was too much for Draco, and he felt his own release spurt inside his pants.

Draco's mouth was flooded with fluid, hot and bitter and slightly salty. He coughed and tried to swallow. He managed most of it.

He shuddered under the force of his own orgasm while he tried to lick up the remnants of Potter's. Potter's fingers carded through his hair, and he finally released Potter's hips.

Potter sank to the ground against the wall, staring at Draco wide-eyed. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, then lunged forward and kissed Draco again. Kissed him desperately.

Draco wound his arms around Potter's neck, accepting the kiss and giving it back as fiercely as he could.

When they broke apart, gasping for breath, Potter still held him close. He pressed their foreheads together, and Draco hummed contentedly.

He felt rather dazed himself.

"That was..." Potter's voice trailed off and he shook his head. "You're amazing," he whispered, giving Draco a small smile. Draco smiled back, feeling giddy and shy.

"Why?"

Draco's smile faded a little. "You're not coping well," he said softly. "I've seen it. You're falling apart, and no one seems to notice."

Potter blinked at him. "You noticed."

"I've never not been able to notice you, Potter."

Potter smiled again. "And that led to this... how?"

Draco shrugged. "I thought it might help you with your stress level, a bit." Potter's smile dimmed.

Draco cleared his throat. "It also helps that I've been wanting to do that since fourth year." His cheeks burned with the admission. Potter gaped.

"Fourth year?"

Draco coughed. "Yes, well; I hated you at the time, so of course I wasn't going to act on my fantasies. Now..." He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Now?" Potter looked curious, yet intent.

"I don't hate you now, Potter. I haven't for quite some time." Draco allowed himself another small smile, one that Potter returned in force.

Potter drew him close again, hugging him tightly. "I haven't hated you for a long time, either," he whispered. Draco's chest felt warm.

Potter released him reluctantly. "We'd probably better get cleaned up and back to our dorms before Filch catches us."

Draco made a face. "What a lovely thought."

Potter chuckled and groped for his wand. He cast a quick cleaning charm on them, and stood, guiding Draco up with him. He pulled up his pants and trousers, fastening them. Then he looked back up at Draco and smiled again.

"Night, Malfoy," he said, and blushed.

"Night, Potter." As he watched Potter walk away, Draco realised he was grinning like a loon. He couldn't help it.