-1Rating: MA Please do not read if you do not want to or you are underage. If at any point you decide yuou do not wish to continue or become underage please stop reading.
Warnings: Juicy sex of a homosexual nature is contained within this spidery narrative and sickening fluff. Also, jeans are removed with infuriating slowness and the size of Voldemort's cock is discussed.
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione and Draco/Voldemort insinuated.
Canon Compliance: Full, up to DH (minus that evil Epilogue.)
Disclaimer: I have such a poor imagination I am forced to steal dear J.K. Rowling's characters and use them for my own, slightly twisted, ends. I'm very sorry, JK. Please forgive me. If it helps, I am making no money from this, and you can have this story for yourself as a peace offering - because you totally want it.
Dedication: To LadyVador, who is so good I missed the first ten minutes of QI to leave her a comment telling her so. And that's pretty damn good I can tell you. Stephen Fry was my hero at the time, now it's clarexama, who sent me a fic in the mail despite claiming to not understand technology.
Author's Note: This is my first ever attempt at slash, so any feedback is appreciated. Even if it's just to point our one of my numerous and sometimes humorous spelling mistakes.
Harry's last year at Hogwarts was, so far, irritatingly hard work. Year 8, new Headmistress McGonagall imaginatively called those students who were allowed to repeat their last year because of the troubles - or do it the first time around in Harry, Ron and Hermione's case. So far, Harry had barely had a chance to talk to Hermione and Ron at all: either Ron and Hermione were in the silent library, working studiously, and doodling Hermione's profile, or they snuck up to the Astronomy Tower to 'revise' together. Exasperated by his friends' newly freed-up romance, Harry found himself spending much more time with Neville and Luna, staring out of the windows as they discussed the existence of the Crumple-Leafed Banion Bush (or the Practically-Sentient George Bush) and compared notes for Charms.
"I feel faint," announced Harry, "I'd better go for a walk and get some fresh air."
"Would you like us to-"
"If I were Harry, I'd prefer-"
"No, it's OK. You guys need to finish that Charms. Flitwick may be small, but he's deadly. And he's been in a foul mood ever since Slughorn got Deputy head instead of him."
And so Harry wondered off. He was finding it difficult to settle down, now his great purpose had been realised, as all he really had to do was exist and then die. At first it had been a liberation, it was what he had always wanted, but now it seemed just a little bit too tame. His plans to become an Auror were all very well, but he couldn't help but feel slightly less motivated now all the darkest wizards were safely locked up in Azkaban.
He was wandering by the lake, vaguely considering visiting Hagrid in his newly refurbished hut, when he saw Malfoy, Goyle and Zabini across the other side of the water, lounging underneath the tree Harry's father had been with Sirius in Snape's memory. They had escaped Azkaban only because of their youthful status, and Harry for one was all for lowering the age of imprisonment. As Harry watched, Malfoy sprang up and strutted up and down a bit, presumably as part of some hilarious story at a Gryffindor's expense. Despite his mood, Harry laughed a little at how camp he looked, that dark Prince of Slytherin, and how smitten Zabini and Goyle must be not to laugh at him. Zabini saw him, however, and conferred with Malfoy for a minute before they send a paper aeroplane note across the lake. Harry caught it apprehensively, unfolding it gingerly, in case Blaise Zabini had cursed it.
"Dear
Scarhead,
What
are you laughing at? We didn't think you'd like gossip about the
Mudblood and the Weasel so much! Our appraisal of your sensibility is
revealed to be quite wrong. We humbly apologise.
Your
new found friends,
Draco
and Zabby
PS:
Draco says thanks for saving his life
PPS:
No I don't. I've already done that and I, for one, have moved
on."
Only slightly annoyed, not being great fans of Ron and Hermione himself right then, he scribbled a reply with the quill he kept in his cloak and sent in straight back. They seemed to find his reply even funnier than their own little joke and Draco wrote a reply without showing it to the other two boys. This time it poked him in the eye before allowing itself to be read.
"Dear
Scarhead,
It's
no use projecting your fantasies onto reality, it won't change
anything. I am about as gay as Salazar Slytherin himself. Yours
tonight, trophy room,
Draco
Malfoy
PS:
Project all you like in the meantime, I want you horny."
Harry laughed softly and wondered off after a big thumbs up to Malfoy, trying to make light. Of course Draco was only joking. No, Malfoy was only joking. And he couldn't possibly know the truth about Salazaar Slytherin, after all, only Harry, Ron and Ginny knew about the giant statue with a snake slithering in and out of its mouth in the Closet of Secrets beneath the school.
Ron's curtains were shut and his snoring was suspiciously absent that night. Watching Malfoy on the Marauders' Map, Harry's heart beat increased as he saw Malfoy head out of the Slytherin common room, alone, and make his way up the stairs towards the trophy room. Goyle and Zabini were sound asleep in their shared dorm so it looked like Malfoy was really intending to meet Harry alone. Harry jumped out of his reverie as Ron's four-poster jerked alarmingly, just once. What on earth were they doing?
Harry put on his most flattering pair of jeans and ruffled his hair in front of the mirror before throwing on his Cloak. Just in case Draco hadn't been joking. Harry suspected Ron might not want to be disturbed so he snuck out of the dormitory that night without telling anyone where he was going. He pushed the Fat Lady open and set off excitedly into the dark school.
Malfoy was waiting by the light of his wand when Harry got there, swinging his black silk pyjamad legs on the cabinet containing the Services to the School awards. He looked momentarily pleased when Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, but quickly assumed his customary sneer.
"Oh. I thought you wouldn't come, Potter" said Malfoy lightly, "I always thought you preferred to spend your time with poor and ugly people, so that you could feel smugly superior."
With Malfoy sitting, Harry was the taller of the two, and he towered over him as he replied. "I don't need friends as long as I've got you then, Malfoy."
"Precisely," said Malfoy triumphantly and his lips were on Harry's and Harry's were on his and suddenly it was true: they only really needed each other. At first Harry couldn't tell whose mouth was whose, but soon enough he pushed Draco's tongue back into his mouth and began a proper exploration of this new territory offered to him, Draco's sharp teeth scoring lines town Harry's soul let alone his tongue.
It was Draco who broke away first, wiping his red mouth with the back of his hand. "I never did thank you properly for saving my life, Potter," he said lugubriously.
"That's OK. You helped us quite a lot in the manor."
"Don't play the long suffering hero. I was rather meaning to imply that I would like to thank you properly now."
"Ahh." And Harry found himself slammed against the cabinet, pinned down by Draco's kiss as he reached slowly, ever so slowly to begin to remove Harry's most flattering pair of jeans.
First it was the button at the top that needed removing. Draco surreptitiously grazed Harry's budging crotch causing it to grow visibly as he reached up to unlatch it, running a finger underneath the band of Harry's boxers while his other hand slowly slid down the fly, opened the flaps of Harry's jeans and slid them down, allowing his head to tilt forward and his hair to brush lightly over Harry's stomach. Harry's erection was straining against the material of his underwear by now so he sighed with relief as Draco got down on his knees, pulling the boxers with him and sat back to look at Harry in full glory. Draco, on the other hand, was sighing with desire.
Slowly, slowly, slowly, he drew one of Harry's balls into his mouth and ran his tongue all around it. When he came away, Harry's precome caught in his hair, and a thin strand of it elongated and broke causing Harry to moan rapturously. "Mmm… Draco"
"That's the first time you have ever used my first name, you know," said Draco conversationally, preparing to give Harry's other testicle the same treatment.
"The first of many I h-" began Harry, but the rest of this sentence was lost in the deep gasp that Draco created by a quick run of his fingers down the length of Harry's cock while he took the other, neglected, ball into his warm mouth.
"Bet this is the best life-saving gratitude gift you've ever been given" drawled Draco as he lightly nudged the shaft of Harry's prick, causing shivers to run down Harry's body and right up to the very tip of his cock. He could only grunt in reply though, as Draco suddenly leapt on Harry, lips moist with Harry's own saliva. Draco played with Harry's balls as he pumped up and down Harry's shaft, twirling Harry's pubic hair around his fingers, leaving it in little spirals when he took his hand away.
Sensing Harry would not last much longer, Draco grabbed the head of Harry's cock and held it to one side as he licked slowly down it's length. First on one side, then the other. But Harry showed no signs of retreating from the brink of orgasm so Draco was forced to retreat altogether.
"You're really into me, aren't you?" he remarked as he loosened the top button of his black silk pyjama shirt. "I reckon I could have you come without touching you." And with that, Draco sat back on his haunches and grinned lustily at Harry's efforts not to come. But it was inevitable and Harry spilled out all over Draco, completely out of control, gasping with pleasure and for breath. Draco licked sensuously at the side of his mouth to draw some of it in, and this sent Harry even further into his rapture, and made Draco's grin even wider, relishing his total control over Harry Potter, the boy who came to order.
"If it's any comfort, your cock is about an inch and a half longer than Voldemort's," Draco said, sounding offhand. Harry felt slightly sick. But strangely, rather than kill Harry's experience completely it ignited a new fire within him. He felt slightly dirty, but then one more connection with the Dark Lord couldn't make all that much difference.
"Do you know that from first-hand experience or did the Death Eaters have communal showers?"
"I'd rather not go into it, but it was a bit of both."
Harry suspected that he would need to inflict bodily harm on anyone else who has taken his little Draco, but at least in this case he'd already done all the revenge that was needed.
"Come back to my room, Draco," he pleaded, needing to have him fall asleep in his arms.
"I've already thanked you for saving me, Potter. That's all your getting." And with that, Draco Malfoy leapt up. "For now, anyway," he grinned as he walked to the door. "You'll have to save my life again." And with that, Malfoy left of the room, leaving Harry in a pool of his own come in the middle of Hogwarts, half hard still and desperate for more.
And Draco hadn't even taken his pyjamas off.