Title: After the Fall
Summary: After fourteen years teaching at Hogwarts, the arrival of a new staff member jolts Draco out of his routine.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): none, other than some explicit sex
Epilogue compliant? Epilogue-what-epilogue
Word Count: 6067
Author's Notes: None of your specific prompts ended up inspiring me, but I hope you'll find enough of the clichés and kinks you like here, lavillanueva!
"McPhee," said Draco to the gargoyle, and when the doorway opened he climbed up to the Headmistress's study.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Ah, Draco. Please have a seat." She gestured, and Draco went obediently to sit down.
It had taken six years from the time Draco had come to teach Potions before the Headmistress addressed him by his first name, and even after eight years more Draco still found it disconcerting. He let none of this show, however, asking smoothly, "Is there something I can help you with?"
Minerva McGonagall nodded. "I would like you to brew a large stock of sleeping potion, please. It needs to be something mild, that will permit the user to fall asleep and dream but not remember those dreams, and not leave him groggy the next day. Can you do that?"
Draco considered, surprised that Minerva had made the request and not Poppy Pomfrey, for whom he regularly brewed healing potions of all sorts. "I believe so. If the person is not to remember his dreams, it will be almost impossible to be certain if he is having them, but I'll do my best. May I ask what this for?"
"You may." The headmistress smiled faintly. "Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He recently retired from the Aurors, and applied for the post when Professor Trundle resigned at the end of June. I know that you and he did not always get along well as students, but I trust you will not let the past interfere with establishing a good working relationship now with Harry Potter."
As soon as Minerva had said "Aurors," Draco had guessed who the new member of staff would be. He kept all expression from his face and voice when he asked, "How soon will the sleeping potion be required? It may take me several tries to achieve the best formulation, and I shall have to test it on myself."
"In about a fortnight. Harry is taking a holiday first -- Spain, Greece, one of those places -- but he will be here by mid-August to settle in and begin preparing for his classes."
Draco nodded a bit curtly. "I'll see what I can do, then. Was that all?" He began to rise.
Draco sat back down and waited.
Minerva looked at him steadily. "Do you think you will be able to work amiably with Harry? He was the most qualified applicant for the position, and our students deserve to have the best instructors."
With surprise, Draco realised that he was being given a compliment; two, really, since Minerva seemed to be hinting that if Draco felt himself completely unable to work with Harry, she would change her mind and hire someone else.
"I believe I can manage," he said aloud.
"Splendid." Minerva's expression softened very slightly as she smiled at him. "That is all; I shall see you at dinner."
Draco returned to his quarters in the dungeon with his thoughts whirling. So Potter was going to teach at Hogwarts? Harry, he supposed he had better think of him as, if they were to be colleagues. It wouldn't be too difficult, considering that Draco had thought of him as "Harry" for years in certain specific contexts. His glance flickered to the drawer in which he kept, among other things, a seven-year-old calendar. The Ministry Boys, it was called, and the month of July featured a picture of a shirtless Harry Potter. Sales of that calendar had raised ten thousand Galleons for charity, all going to aid war orphans.
Draco reminded himself that it was one thing to wank over a calendar picture, and quite another to have the object of his fantasies working with him on a professional basis. The chance that Harry would return Draco's interest was small, even though Draco knew that Harry was also bent. The Daily Prophet had never come right out and said it, but pictures of Harry at various public events made it quite clear that he dated both women and men.
The only thing to do was wait and see what happened. In the meantime, Draco would work on developing the specialised sleeping potion that Minerva had requested on Harry's behalf. Draco supposed that Harry had memories that troubled him.
The first two weeks of August passed quickly. As well as working on several variants of the sleeping potion, Draco had to brew a number of potions and elixirs to restock Poppy Pomfrey's supplies, and also work on his lesson plans for the sixth-and seventh-year NEWT classes. The examinations were being changed and Draco wanted to ensure that the advanced students would be studying all of the topics likely to be covered.
When Harry spoke from the doorway into the potions dungeon, Draco jumped, wondering how long Harry might have been standing there watching him. Quite a while, he suspected, taking in the studiedly casual pose as Harry lounged against the door frame.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."
Draco brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eyes with the back of his wrist. "It's fine. What did you want?"
Harry shrugged, moving further into the room and looking around. "I arrived this morning. The house elves are taking care of my unpacking. Minerva says that she'll introduce me 'round to any of the staff whom I don't know at dinner tonight, but since I do know you," his eyes flashed green as he looked at Draco, "I thought I might come and say hello."
"Did Minerva tell you that she asked me to brew a sleeping potion for you?"
"Yes." Harry added nothing to the bare word, no explanation of why he needed it, but a muscle twitched in his cheek.
Draco waited through a few thudding heartbeats. "I'm still refining it, but my latest batch ought to be adequate. I'll decant some into a bottle and label it with the dosage, and have an elf bring it to your rooms."
"Thank you." Harry was still looking around curiously. "It's quite different from when we were students, isn't it?"
Draco shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea to make a change."
After his first year teaching, he had requested that the dungeon be painted in some more cheerful colour. The Headmistress had raised her eyebrows, and the walls had ended up a pale primrose yellow. Not necessarily the first colour Draco would have chosen, but it certainly did brighten the place up, and eventually he'd grown quite to like it, rather to his surprise.
"Look, if you're busy then I can go away."
"No, I'm all right." Draco gave the bubbling cauldron three counterclockwise stirs, tapped off the spoon, and set it aside. "That simmers for an hour before I need to do anything else do it."
Harry dragged a stool over to the table at which Draco had been working and sat down. "I was a little concerned about taking this position," he said in a conversational tone. "Mostly because of you."
"Because of me?"
"Well, we weren't exactly good friends way back when, after all. And then there was the war..." Harry shrugged.
Draco didn't bother to try to conceal his shudder. "Yes." Several weeks after the battle of Hogwarts, he had written to Harry to thank him for saving his life from the Fiendfyre. Harry's testimony at the various war trials had helped to ensure that not only Draco, but his parents too, received relatively light sentences. Draco himself had only been placed under Ministry supervision for three years, to prevent any misuse of magic, and the elder Malfoys had been obliged to make restitution to some of Voldemort's victims. It could have been far worse, and everyone knew it.
But that had been the last direct interaction Draco had had with Harry Potter. Seeing him from a distance in Diagon Alley or reading about him in the Prophet were scarcely the same.
"I owe you my life, Harry." Draco gave him a wry smile. "You can't think that I would be less than polite to you in public, whatever my private thoughts might be?"
"No, but I'd rather not have you be icily polite and still think badly of me," said Harry. "I don't know if we can become friends or not, but I'd like to try. We may both be teaching here for the rest of our lives, and it would be much more enjoyable that way. So. Are you willing to try?"
He held his hand out to Draco, who looked at it, remembering a time when Harry had refused to shake his hand, but then he shrugged and grasped it.
Harry's grip was firm, his skin rough in spots, but the warmth was exactly how Draco remembered it from the time he had clung desperately to Harry as they soared out of the Room of Requirement.
"Now that that's out of the way," Harry grinned, "why don't you tell me what it's like to be a professor at Hogwarts?"
"It has its good and bad points," Draco said. "Surely Minerva told you what the job entailed?"
Harry flapped his hand. "Of course, but that's different. You're in the classroom, teaching, and the Head of Slytherin House too. You can give me a much better sense of things as they are now than she could."
"Are you going to be Head of Gryffindor?" Draco asked.
"Oh no. At least, not any time soon." Harry hesitated. "I wouldn't be suitable, really."
Draco gave a short laugh. "Gryffindor's most famous son not suitable?"
Harry's face tightened. "You might as well know. You've probably guessed, since Minerva put you to making sleeping potions for me. I burned out as an Auror in the end; it just got to be too much. I was unable to sleep. After a while I started hallucinating. They had to knock me out to get me to rest. Over the past several months I've been tapering down so that an ordinary sleeping potion will do, and I spent the past fortnight on holiday in Greece to rest up. But I wouldn't make a good Head of any House; if there were an emergency in the middle of the night, I'd be too drugged to respond."
He explained all of this in a rapid monotone, not looking at Draco until he had finished. Then he added, "It shouldn't be a problem for the teaching, mind you. I haven't lost any of my capabilities at defensive magic, and I've done a little bit of teaching -- training new Auror recruits, that sort of thing."
Draco nodded. "I'm sure Minerva wouldn't have hired you if she didn't think you would do a brilliant job."
Harry looked uncomfortable and muttered, "I'll do my best, of course. But I should let you get back to what you were doing. I'll see you later."
He disappeared back through the door, and Draco shook his head and returned to what he'd been doing.
Over the next fortnight before the students returned, Harry dropped by Draco's dungeon every day or two; not usually for long, just to chat a few minutes, and often to ask Draco how he dealt with various potential classroom problems. He looked strained, and Draco watched him carefully. If Harry was this tense before the term even started, how well would he do when he was actually teaching?
"How is the sleeping potion working for you?" Draco asked after several days.
"What? Oh." Harry had been twiddling with a packet of Erumpent horn. "All right, I guess."
"You're able to fall asleep within thirty minutes of taking it? No dreams that you remember?" Draco pressed. "I can make further refinements to the formula if it isn't satisfactory."
The tic in Harry's cheek jumped. "I'm falling asleep all right, but... I don't actually remember my dreams, but I remember the emotions of them, if that makes sense."
"Disturbing ones, I suppose." Draco kept his voice neutral.
Harry's face was pale. "Rather."
"I did some research on this when Minerva asked me about it," Draco said. "I could make something that would give you a truly dreamless sleep, and that might work all right to give you better physical rest, but from what I understand the brain needs to process all the different things you've experienced. If you don't or won't or can't do so while you're awake, then you need to let it happen through dreams. It would be potentially dangerous for you to suppress them."
"I know," said Harry resignedly. "That's what they told me at St. Mungo's."
"I can try to make it a little stronger, though," Draco offered.
"That would be good. Thanks."
"It will take too long to brew to have it tonight, but hopefully tomorrow."
Harry nodded. "I understand."
He reported back two days later that the new version of the sleeping potion was a definite improvement.
"Just be aware that any of these potions will become less effective over time, as your body adjusts to it," Draco warned him.
"I understand." Harry clasped his hands behind his back and stretched. "I can't believe that the students will arrive in just a few days now."
"Nervous? I was too when I first started." Draco gave him a sympathetic grin. "Still am, in a way; the first day especially, even though I've had virtually all the students except for the first years in class many times."
"That's good to know. I mean, not that you're still nervous so much as that it's a normal feeling," Harry said.
Draco hesitated. "You know that Minerva has a staff party the last night but one before the students arrive," he said finally.
"Yes, of course. What about it?"
"She says that she doesn't want us to be distracted or otherwise incapacitated when the students arrive, but I personally have found that a nice couple of glasses of firewhisky on the last night do me good. You'd be welcome if you'd like to join me."
Harry's face split in a wide smile. "I'd love that. Thanks for asking me."
"Just drop by my rooms after dinner that night, then. My personal rooms, not here."
The before-term party was very much as usual; not that they hadn't all seen each other for at least the past week or so, although many of the staff did go away on holiday for part of the summer. But it was good to have everyone together, Draco admitted to himself, and to talk collegially, speculating as to whether this year's incoming students would be a dull lot or whether they might come close to the spectacularly good class that had gone through nine years ago, in which all but three of the students had achieved at least five N.E.W.T.s each. Draco had been on staff for the later years of that class, but he had missed them as new students.
"Sounds like a whole year full of Hermione-types," said Harry in an undertone to Draco.
"More or less," Draco agreed. "Good students, certainly, but annoying at times to teach."
"Family background didn't make a difference, I suppose?" Harry was carefully not looking at Draco as he asked.
Draco chuckled. "No. I promised the Headmistress when I arrived that I would treat every student fairly, regardless of family or background, but that particular group of students would have knocked any ideas about the importance of bloodlines right out of me. The most spectacular student was a Prewett, but very close behind was one who came from a completely Muggle background, and third was a student whose family has always been mostly Squibs. She actually had the strongest natural magic, but didn't work quite as hard as the other two."
"Not Hufflepuff, then?"
"No, a Slytherin actually."
The party rose to its annual height shortly before midnight, when Professor Sinistra did her acclaimed imitations of various of the other staff, plus assorted public figures. Draco had thought it ridiculous the first year he had taught, but over time had grown rather to enjoy it. It certainly cast a different light on the professors than he had ever imagined when he was a student.
Harry seemed to find it amusing as well, applauding enthusiastically after each imitation.
"That was more fun than I expected," he confided to Draco as they walked down the hall together afterward. "Too bad it's only once a year."
"Oh, there are other staff get-togethers," said Draco. "Not always the case that everyone is there, of course; during term the Heads of House generally don't attend, or else they have to make arrangements to be contact-able in case of some emergency in the House. There's a certain amount of more informal socialising, too, down in Hogsmeade and so on. We're not completely bereft of any social life."
Harry nodded. "I remember Hagrid used to go to the Three Broomsticks and the Hog's Head. I wish he were still here, but I gather that the chance to work at Beauxbatons was too tempting to pass up."
Draco smiled politely. "I suppose so." He personally didn't regret the loss of the half-giant at all. Hagrid might have his good qualities, and certainly no one could fault his skills when it came to taking care of magical creatures, but teaching those skills had never been his strong suit, in Draco's opinion.
"So, your rooms tomorrow evening?" asked Harry as they reached the staircases where Harry would go up and Draco go down. He gave Draco a slightly shaky smile. "I think I'm going to need something distracting, or else I'll fret all night."
"After dinner, yes," Draco agreed. "How much did you drink tonight?"
"I think... three, yes, three drinks," said Harry. "Why?"
"You should reduce tonight's dose of sleeping potion," Draco said. "I'd say cut it back by about one-fourth; that should do the trick without risking any side effects."
"All right. See you tomorrow." Harry disappeared up the stairs.
Draco spent the final student-free day double-checking all his supplies and going through his files to be sure that his teaching notes were in good order. It was a relief not to have to come up with new material all the time any more; even with the revisions for the new classes, he was in pretty good shape.
Dinner was full of conversation about favourite and unfavourite returning pupils, and some speculation on what Houses the first years might be sorted into. The new generation of Weasleys were beginning to turn up, most of them being Sorted into Gryffindor as one might expect, although the daughter of Bill and Fleur Weasley had gone into Slytherin. She might be only one-eighth Veela, but Draco had had to intervene more than once when she was trying out her skills of flirtation on the boys in her House. He was grateful not to be affected himself.
He said as much to Harry later that evening when they were each on their third glass of firewhisky.
"No fraternising with students -- well, that goes without saying, doesn't it? But we're also expected to keep the students from going too far amongst themselves. Hand-holding and snogging and even a little discreet groping in an empty classroom or under the Quidditch stands, all those are fine, but if anyone gets caught going much further, then it's not just a talking to, it's loss of House points. Despite that, we're also supposed to make sure that each student in our House knows the basic necessary charms for protection against diseases and for contraception." Draco snorted. "It's always struck me as slightly ludicrous that they're supposed to have all that useful information, and yet not be putting it to use."
"You're supposed to teach students those things?" Harry asked. "That's a change. Gryffindor certainly never learned anything of the sort from Professor McGonagall when I was a student."
"I think it was Fiona Boswell -- the Muggle studies teacher, the one with the blonde hair who always sits next to Filius -- who suggested it. Goodness knows that Snape didn't instruct the Slytherins either."
Harry wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I don't even want to think about that."
"Me, either." Draco refilled their glasses.
"I'm going to have to get some hangover potion from you before I leave tonight," said Harry jokingly.
"Yes, Minerva told me that students were off-limits no matter what their age, which doesn't bother me in the slightest. But she didn't mention other staff one way or the other." Harry rubbed his finger around the rim of his glass. "Are there any unspoken rules I should know about?"
Draco glanced at him. "I suppose the biggest unspoken rule is that if anything happens it will be discreet. The students shouldn't be aware, and if things fall apart you have to be willing to carry on with a cordial professional relationship. Why, was there someone you had in mind?"
"Possibly." Harry continued staring at his class, as if reading his answer from the surface of the liquor. "Since we all live at Hogwarts itself, it's not as if there's much opportunity to meet anyone else, after all."
"True, although you may decide that the pickings among the staff are rather slim; I've found them so."
"I'm used to that," said Harry, his voice a little slurred. "There aren't that many Aurors, you know."
"But there are a lot of Ministry employees generally," Draco pointed out.
Harry flapped his hand dismissively. "Never spent that much time in the Ministry building. Aurors don't. Always out and about, we were. But I don't want to talk about that."
"All right," said Draco. "Now then. Are you ready to meet your new pupils tomorrow and begin teaching?"
"I think so." Harry nodded owlishly to emphasise his words. "Been getting a lot of good advice from you and some of the others. It'll be fine."
"Good." Setting down his glass, Draco stretched luxuriously.
"I suppose I should go," said Harry.
"If you want. No need to rush away if you'd rather stay a bit longer."
"All right, I will. This is rather nice, being able to sit with you like this. I wouldn't have expected that."
With a shrug, Draco said, "I don't think we ever really knew each other very well when we were younger, did we?"
"No, I guess not."
Draco eyed Harry surreptitiously as they continued sipping at their drinks and making desultory conversation. He wondered who it might be that Harry was interested in amongst the staff; with Harry's history, it might be almost any of the younger staff members. Perhaps Draco ought to be the one to make the first move, if he had any real interest in Harry other than as wank fodder. Well. He might. Perhaps he'd give it a couple of weeks, let Harry get settled in and used to the routine of the school term first.
"I had a great time. Thanks," said Harry when the clock struck twelve and he rose to leave. "And I'll take a lower dose of the sleeping potion again, don't worry."
Draco grinned. "Good man. See you at breakfast."
The first several weeks of term went by in the usual blur of activity: getting used to the new schedule, learning the names of the new students, reminding the older students that the rules had not been relaxed over the summer. Draco didn't forget his promise to himself, though, and when the first Hogsmeade weekend came around, he made sure that both his and Harry's names were on the list of professors who would go to the village to supervise. They could have a mug of Butterbeer and talk, at least. It wouldn't be a date exactly, but still a public outing in each other's company was nothing to sneeze at.
Harry seemed happy to have Draco ask if he'd like to go to the Three Broomsticks.
"I want to stop by Honeydukes first though," he said. "See if their sweets live up to my memories."
Draco laughed. "I doubt it. Even if they haven't altered the recipes or something since you were a student, it's never the same, going back. At least I've never found it so."
"Oh?" said Harry curiously.
"Maybe you'll be luckier," allowed Draco. "But I wouldn't hold my breath."
It was perfect autumn weather, crisp but not cold, and Draco let his cloak fall loosely around him as he shepherded his Slytherins to Hogsmeade. He'd arranged to meet Harry a little later, since Harry didn't have to come down with the students.
"This was a splendid idea," said Harry happily when they met.
"I'm glad." Draco counted himself lucky that Madam Rosmerta no longer ran the pub. She had sold up a year or two afer the war and moved to Diagon Alley instead. She'd never really forgiven what Draco had done to her during his sixth year, understandably he supposed. No, for everyone's comfort it was just as well that the London Rosmerta's was flourishing.
It was a very pleasant afternoon all around, with good although often-interrupted conversation and a mug of Butterbeer too.
As they walked back to Hogwarts behind a file of students, Harry said, "We should do this again sometime."
"I'd love to," said Draco, delighted that Harry was the one to suggest it.
The months went by amazingly quickly -- time seemed to speed faster each year -- and all at once the Christmas holidays were upon them. Draco normally spent Christmas Day itself with his parents, enduring their pointed remarks about why he hadn't chosen some more reasonable job, gotten married, and had children by now. This year, however, they had luckily decided to spend Christmas in the south of France, and Draco declined their invitation to go along. He gave his stack of gifts for his colleagues to the house elves to be distributed on Christmas Eve, and hoped that they would be well-received.
"Thank you, Draco," said Minerva when she saw him Christmas morning. "It's a lovely muffler and I'm sure it will keep me beautifully warm during the Quidditch matches."
"You're welcome. And I thank you for the wall sconces. They'll be perfect on either side of the fireplace in my rooms," Draco said.
Draco had been disappointed not to find some small token from Harry on his bed that morning, but he reassured himself with the thought that perhaps Harry would give it to him in person later. Draco had asked him if he'd like to come spend the afternoon, playing games or listening to carols on the wizarding wireless or whatever Harry liked.
When Harry turned up at two o'clock, however, he had no parcel in his hands. Instead he looked uncomfortable.
"The Quidditch gloves were marvellous, Draco, but you didn't need to do go to all that trouble."
"Pooh," said Draco, pleased. "It was nothing, really." It had only involved getting a house elf to find out Harry's glove size, and then special-ordering the gloves in scarlet-dyed dragon hide from Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Harry swallowed. "I didn't buy a gift for you." He stopped there, biting his lip as if undecided what to say next.
Draco poured them each a mug of the mulled wine that the house elves had brought up, and handed Harry his. Then he sat down and waited for what Harry might have to say.
"I, er. I thought that perhaps something that you couldn't buy might be an acceptable gift." Harry took an enormous gulp of his wine.
Draco cocked his head. "Yes, all right, what is it?"
"Well..." Harry looked embarrassed. "Me."
That one word spoken almost inaudibly knocked the breath right out of Draco's lungs. Whatever he'd expected or even hoped for, this was a possibility that had never seriously entered into his mind. Not such a direct offer, not so soon. Well, it wasn't all that soon, was it? They had known each other for more than twenty years.
"That... is a perfectly acceptable gift," he said breathlessly.
Harry's face lit up. "Good. Um. Your bedroom?"
Draco almost spilled his wine, he set it down so fast. Standing up, he pulled Harry into an embrace, pressing frantic kisses to his wine-scented mouth. "Come on."
They tumbled onto Draco's bed together, their shoes kicked off but otherwise fully clothed, not even bothering to turn down the covers. Draco moaned when he felt Harry's erection prodding against him. It had been months since he'd been with anyone, and a summer one-off was nothing compared to having someone he'd developed a genuine fondness for here with him.
Harry seemed to feel much the same, for he muttered Draco's name over and over in between urgent biting kisses, his spectacles coming askew in his haste but neither of them bothering about that.
They grappled with each other, legs interlaced, each rubbing himself against the other's thigh, until Draco realised that he was about to come. He didn't want that to happen, not so soon. Not that he thought this was to be a one-shot deal, but he wanted at least to be naked, see Harry the same, not have them come in their clothes like randy teenagers.
So he stopped and pushed Harry a little away.
"What -- Draco --?" Harry opened his eyes, the green of his irises almost swallowed up by his dilated pupils.
Draco touched Harry's lips with one hand and with the other began to tug at the hem of Harry's jumper. "Let's get these off," he said hoarsely, and Harry swallowed and nodded.
It didn't take long before all of their clothes were lying in a heap on the floor. Draco looked Harry over with approval. His years as an Auror had muscled him up nicely, although there was a little softness around his waist. The dark hair of his chest turned into a trail pointing at his ruddy cock, now rampantly erect above large heavy balls. Harry straightened and gave Draco an almost defiant look. "Well?"
Draco licked his lips and gave Harry a little smirk. "How could I possibly complain?"
"Thank you. You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."
Draco flushed slightly, unused to hearing such compliments. Instead he reached for Harry's spectacles and lifted them gently away. "I assume you don't wear these all the time?"
"No." Harry chuckled. "I should have taken them off earlier; they're all smudged now anyhow."
They lay down again, bodies pressed together as they started to kiss once more, and Draco reveled in the feel of Harry's bare skin against his own. He nipped at Harry's ear lobe and murmured, "I want to suck you off."
Without even waiting for Harry's assent, he began to lick and suck a trail downward over Harry's torso, stopping along the way to bite gently at his nipples and taste the hollow of his navel. He rubbed his cheek against the engorged length of Harry's cock first before pressing his lips to the head of it, his tongue flicking out to taste the slit. Harry shuddered and his fingers clutched at Draco's hair. Then Draco opened his mouth and let the whole of Harry's cock inside. He could only let Harry give two or three thrusts before he had to come up for air; it had been a long time since he'd done this. After that he concentrated on the half that he could reasonably handle, running his tongue along the crown and sucking, letting his saliva trickle down to where he was using his hands to pump the base of Harry's cock and his thumbs to fondle Harry's bollocks.
Harry groaned. "Oh, fuck yes, Draco, you're really good at that."
Draco could feel Harry's balls rising up in their sac, his prick hardening even more, the blood pounding out a rhythm against Draco's lips and tongue. He sucked a little more strongly, massaging Harry's cock with his tongue, and then Harry was coming, thick bitter spurts that struck the back of Draco's throat and almost choked him, so that he had to pull away a little and swallow. He went back and licked up the last drops, lavishing kisses on Harry's spent cock.
"That was fantastic," said Harry in a thick voice. He touched Draco's cheek and urged him up, kissing him deeply. "What would you like?"
"If you're willing, I'd like to fuck you." Draco held his breath in hope.
Harry nodded. "I thought you might, and I'm definitely willing." He hesitated. "You have lube?"
"Of course." Draco summoned it from where it sat on his bureau.
"Don't bother too much with that," Harry said when Draco began to use the lubricant to prepare him. He had stretched out on his side with his upper knee pulled up towards his chest, and had now turned his head to look back across his shoulder at Draco. "Honestly. I'd rather you didn't."
Draco raised an eyebrow, but if that was how Harry wanted it... He slicked up his cock and rested the head of it between Harry's arse cheeks, nudging his hole.
"Yes." Harry pressed back against Draco, who thrust forward in response, sliding more easily than he'd expected into the clinging heat of Harry's arse. Then Harry clenched around him and Draco swore at the sensation, managing in that string of profanity to assure Harry that he was enjoying it very much indeed.
"Come on and fuck me then, hard," demanded Harry, and he grabbed one of Draco's hands and brought it to his own chest, manipulating Draco's fingers to show how he liked his nipples pinched and twisted even as Draco's prick battered into him relentlessly.
Having Harry under him, writhing, begging Draco to go harder, faster, deeper -- any thought of restraint disappeared from Draco's head, and he pounded into the welcoming flesh that accepted his cock so sweetly. He wanted it to last forever, but all too soon he came, his throat tight as he groaned in the ecstatic throes of his orgasm.
Harry guided Draco's hand downward, where to his surprise Draco found that Harry was aroused again. With his prick still buried deep inside Harry's body, Draco helped Harry stroke himself to a second climax.
After a few moments of lying there entwined, their breaths gradually slowing, Harry said, "I hope that was an acceptable Christmas present."
"Probably the most memorable one I've ever had," said Draco with a chuckle.
"I'm glad to know that." Harry was quiet for a moment, and then said, "Would it be all right if I stayed here tonight?"
"I don't have any of your sleeping potion here," Draco told him.
"I'd like to try without it. If you don't mind -- if I have a nightmare you can wake me and chase me back to my own bed."
"All right then, yes," said Draco. He stretched, his softened cock slipping away from Harry. "It's still rather earlier then I usually go to bed, though."
"Me too." Harry rolled over to face Draco, so close that Draco could see the texture of the skin that formed dark circles under Harry's eyes. "Thanks."
"For everything. For making me the sleeping potion, for accepting me as a colleague." Harry turned slightly pink. "For having sex with me."
"You're welcome," said Draco, feeling awkward. "It hasn't exactly been a major hardship to do any of that. Especially the last."
"Still, thanks." He gave Draco a grin. "I waited till now on purpose, you know."
"How do you mean?"
"I wanted to ask you back after that first visit to Hogsmeade, but I knew that if you said yes, I was going to have an unmistakable look of satisfaction on my face for a week. It seemed a better idea to do that over the holiday than during term," Harry explained.
"Makes sense." Draco grinned back. "Although I don't think that I can claim to have been good enough to keep a smile on your face for an entire week."
"Well, I was hoping we could repeat this a few times to achieve that result," admitted Harry.
Draco pretended to think about it. "I do have a lot of work to get done... but I suppose I can squeeze you in."
"Excellent. That's what I was hoping to hear."
"I just want to ask you one thing."
"Do you top as well as you bottom?"
Harry gave him a confident lazy smile. "Wait and find out."
Draco looked forward to it.