hd_hols (hd_hols) wrote in hd_holidays,

Happy H/D Holidays mizbean Part 2/2

Author: jairissa
Recipient: mizbean
Title: Set Me Free - Part 2/2

"I can't bloody believe that the Gryffindor seeker got the snitch right under Tonkin's nose!" Malfoy raved for the hundredth time since they left the field. "The snitch was his, it was right there..."

Harry grinned, holding the aforementioned snitch in his hand. He'd been so elated to see Gryffindor sweep to victory over Slytherin that he'd gone out to congratulate the Seeker himself, rather forgetting the fuss people he didn't know tended to make over the Great Harry Potter. Still, he mused, it'd would a nice souvenir. Maybe he could hang it in Malfoy's cell in Azkaban, after this stunt. Provided, of course, he could ignore the twinge that came at the thought of losing afternoons like this one, even if Malfoy did have to be involved.

"Suck it up, Malfoy," he said unrepentantly. "You lost, and it's time to call in the bet. Ministry of Magic, half an hour. Naked. Your choice, remember?"

Malfoy glared and grumbled, but settled at Harry's triumphant smile. Tossing his blond hair out of his eyes, he stuck his tongue out at Harry and Apparated away. It would be perfect timing, really. He was due to start work at exactly the time Malfoy was due to start his run and he'd get a front row seat for all the antics. Not that he expected the git would actually show up – Malfoy was far too self-centred to risk Azkaban for something as stupid as losing a bet to Harry.


"You're early," Hermione observed as he wandered into the office for his shift. "You're usually not piling out of bed until this time, have you been out?"

Harry forced a smile, placed his customary kiss on her cheek and settled himself at his desk. He'd hoped Hermione would leave on time for once – the last thing he needed was her perceptiveness making him answer to why he'd been out watching Quidditch with one of their worst cases. He could hear the lecture already – 'blatantly unprofessional, Harry, it brings down the credibility of the entire department...'

"There isn't much work today, if you'd like to get back to what you're doing." Harry jumped at the sound of Hermione's voice, wondering how he'd missed her following him back to his desk. "Malfoy's been quiet, the twins are at the Burrow tonight and that witch from Brighton is still in Ministry custody, so I can't foresee any major problems popping up overnight."

"I haven't been anywhere, Hermione," Harry lied blatantly, wondering what the point was. She knew everything. He wouldn't be shocked if she knew where he'd been, who he'd been with, how long they'd been there and exactly how Harry felt about it, even when he didn't know himself. He sighed, running a hand through his hair at her sceptical expression. "Fine, I've been out, but...it isn't anything I can get back to. And that's even if I wanted to, which I don't."

Hermione opened her mouth as though to speak, but paused as she looked at the wall of his cubicle. She perched herself neatly on the very chair this whole mess with Malfoy had started in and reached a hand out to play with his letter opener.

"You...were smiling when you came in, Harry," she said delicately. "It's been a while since I've seen you do that without thinking you had to. Perhaps...you did have fun today, wherever you were?"

"I didn't," Harry denied instantly, more through reflex than truth. "I got dragged along to something I liked as a kid by someone I don't like. I'm glad to be out of it and back here, honestly."

Hermione looked unconvinced, but didn't push the issue. She had been doing that more often lately, giving in to a fight that she would have defended to the death while they were in school.

"Well, the offer's there, if you want it," she said finally, getting up. "I'll leave you to it, regardless – Ron has some hideous Cannons thing that he wants us to go to tonight. If I want any chance of dragging him to my parents later this week, I'd better be on time."

Harry nodded absently, thoughts already turning to the drudgery ahead of him. If the twins, Malfoy and Ellie Banker from Brighton were otherwise occupied, he would most likely only be able to expect one or two cases tonight, giving him the first quiet shift he'd had since he started. He wondered whether Hermione would notice a makeshift dartboard with Snape's face attached to the wall. He was sure there were plenty of projectiles they'd confiscated that could be used as darts.

"Now, now, Potter, I'd expect you'd at least be waiting for me to show up." Harry's jaw dropped as he looked up to see a stark naked Draco Malfoy standing in front of his desk. "Goodness, if it were me I'd have everyone I knew here for the show and you didn't even warn Granger to stay. You really are too nice for your own good sometimes."

Harry nodded dumbly, not entirely sure of what he'd just agreed to. He was straight. Absolutely heterosexual. It was shock that made him stare. That was it, shock. He liked girls, girls were good and the sight in front of him was not the most arousing thing he'd ever seen in his life. It really, really wasn't.

"Potter," Malfoy said commandingly. "Come on. We've still got two more places to go and I want to make it there before the Aurors catch up with me. Chop chop. The warming charm I cast on the fountain will wear out before you get yourself out of that chair."

"Yes, chair," Harry echoed, the faintly active part of this mind trying to work out just what was so fascinating about the picture in front of him. Goodness knows if he'd had any idea Malfoy had been packing that figure under his robes, he would have been present at all his naked antics recently. Oh god, I did not just think that.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked, confusion tinting his voice. He moved to kneel down in front of Harry, tapping a finger to his forehead. "Wake up, we need to go and I can't have your procrastination ruining my big moment."

"Malfoy," Harry said distantly, pushing him away, trying desperately to keep any contact with bare skin to a minimum, which ended in his hands in Malfoy's hair as he tried to get him away. "I think we should just forget the bet, and you should go. Really, really far away, preferably."

Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched Harry's face. Shaking slightly, he reached a hand out to touch Harry's face, placing his hand on his forehead as though to he were checking for a temperature.

"Get out, Malfoy! For fuck's sake, just get the hell out." Malfoy fell back, staring at Harry darkly. Standing, he stormed out, somehow impressive despite the lack of clothing that would have made anyone else ridiculous.

Harry stumbled to the break room, pouring himself a glass of water. He dropped it abruptly when the majority of it spilt on his shirt rather than pouring gracefully into his mouth. Pacing around the small room for enough time to realise that he really needed to talk to someone about this, he stumbled to the department's Floo and called to his best friend's house.

"I need to talk to Hermione," he gasped. "Please."


"It's perfectly natural to feel an occasional attraction to members of the same sex as yourself," Hermione said in a soothing tone, ignoring Ron's pacing in the background. "It has no effect on your sexuality at all. It's simply a reflection of the fact that the qualities we find attractive in the opposite sex can be found in all people."

"Or, y'know, Harry could actually like a guy," Ron countered, ignoring Harry's moan as he buried his head in his hands. "What the hell's wrong with that? You two are acting like the world'll end if Harry likes someone who's not a girl. So what? He'll have sex, stop moping as much and we'll all be bloody happier."

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped, turning on her boyfriend in anger. "Harry says that he's sure of his sexual orientation, and I really think he'd know best. Is there really a need to be so insensitive about it?"

"I'm not being insensitive, Hermione," Ron said hotly. "I'm being honest – what does it matter if Harry likes a guy for once? Gives him more opportunities to get laid and means he doesn't need to deal with the crap you girls come out with sometimes."

Harry couldn't help the grin that jumped involuntarily to his face as Hermione puffed up in anger and started her standard lecture on the equality of the sexes. He bit back a snort as Ron made a face behind Hermione's back and shrugged his shoulders, mouthing 'see what I mean?'

"Would it really not matter to you?" Harry asked quietly, finding that the most effective interruption to an argument between his friends he'd ever come across.

"'Course not, mate," Ron insisted. "Boys, girls, what's the difference? If it gets you out of the house, I'm all for it."

"I haven't been that bad," Harry insisted, glaring at them both as they snorted in synch. He tilted his head at them, letting the glare slip from his face. "I haven't been that bad, have I?"

Hermione shook her head, coming to sit beside him and wrapping her arm around him. Ron gave an audible sigh of relief, plopping himself into an armchair on the other side of the room, making himself as inconspicuous as possible.

"You're not happy. Goodness knows we'd give anything you asked of us to make you so, but that power's not in our hands now," Hermione said, shooting a quick look at Ron. "And if this...man can make you happy, then you should take that opportunity, whatever the consequences."

Harry nodded, biting back the tears that threatened. So he was attracted to Malfoy...that didn't give him permission to start bawling like a girl.

"I think I might have really screwed things up there, Hermione..." he whispered, resting his head on her shoulder.

"It's okay," she whispered back. "We'll help you fix it. We always do, remember?"


"I really can't believe you're doing this," Hermione muttered next to him, holding his cloak in her hands and determinedly not looking at him. "I'm sure the Owls would have worked, if you kept trying to explain. Lucius couldn't have burnt all of them. Stop laughing, Ron!"

"Sorry, but...I wish I had a camera for this, I really do," Ron managed between guffaws. "I could make a fortune off of it!"

Harry glared at him, shivering slightly. When he'd asked his best mates to help him with this, he hadn't meant to spend most of the time copping either glares or hysterical laughing from them.

"Maybe I should have come alone," he muttered, bouncing up and down slightly to warm himself.

"Oh god, don't do that Harry," Ron whispered, laughter stopping instantly as he looked away. Hermione did the same, although he could see her peeking out of the corner of his eye. Their eyes met and she averted her eyes instantly, blushing.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want to do this somewhere more...private?" Hermione asked diplomatically. Harry glared at her, feeling slightly insulted, a thought that was apparently obvious on his face. "I didn't mean that! I just mean...there are a lot of people watching, Harry. I'm sure you could make the same point in front of 10 people rather than 10 thousand."

"It has to be here," Harry said determinedly. "His mum said she'd get him here somehow and he's the one who wanted it to be at a Quidditch match. It's the best way to get his attention."

A roar went up from the stands that Harry, Ron and Hermione were currently cowering under, causing Hermione to close her eyes in resignation.

"I'm going to lose my job over this, I know it,' she moaned. "I started the bloody department, and here I am, aiding and abetting the worst thing we've seen so far."

Harry ignored her, taking a deep breath. He belatedly wished he'd had the foresight to place an expanding charm on himself so that he'd have one less thing to worry about, but it was far past time for that. Grabbing his sign off Ron, he closed his eyes for one last moment before looking ambitiously forward and taking off at a run.

The gasps were instantaneous and unrelenting from the moment he appeared under the bleachers. He steadfastly ignored the flash of cameras as he completed his one lap around the Quidditch pitch, sign held high, proudly flashing the words 'I'm sorry, Malfoy' in metre high green and silver letters. He'd been tempted to add the words 'you were right' to the bottom of them, but figured he should have some conversation piece when he managed to see him face to face.

He ducked his head as the security wizards took off after him, thanking every deity there was for his head start. Clearly they weren't used to the idea of streaking at Quidditch games as the tubby old men were quite a bit behind him. One of them shot a spell at him, something he dodged easily. There was applause, to Harry's everlasting surprise, and he realised with a rush that he couldn't remember the last time he felt this...free.

Stopping for a moment to take advantage of the distance between himself and the men pursuing him, Harry bowed to the audience, tossing his sign into the crowd before taking off again and ducking under the stands where Ron and Hermione were waiting. Snatching his cloak from a hyperventilating Hermione, he Apparated back to his apartment, dropping to his couch in triumph.

"I did it," he informed the walls. He was elated, terrified, shocked and resigned all at once. Whether or not Malfoy took the bait, Harry knew this was the reminder he needed of whose blood ran in his veins, and who he really wanted to be.

"You're insane," the mirror told him sternly.

"I know," Harry grinned, hoping Ron and Hermione had managed to get out before anyone caught them. "But it's the good kind."


In the end it had only taken an hour for Malfoy's furious owl to arrive and a further five minutes after that for Malfoy himself to show. Thankfully he'd had the foresight to close the Floo, meaning that Malfoy had to bang on the heavily locked door to gain entrance.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, Potter?" He snapped, throwing his thick robe on Harry's messy couch. "You do realise my boyfriend just broke up with me because he thought we were having a torrid affair behind his back."

Harry blanched. He'd thought over what would happen if Malfoy had never been interested in him in the first place, but it had never occurred to him that there may be someone else Malfoy had in his life. Someone he cared for.

"I didn't realise you were seeing anyone," Harry said quietly. Malfoy snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, boytoy," he admitted finally, turning his head away. Harry smothered his grin, heading towards the kitchen.

"Pumpkin juice?" He called over his shoulder.

"No, I don't bloody want pumpkin juice!" Malfoy snapped. "I want you to tell me what the hell this is all about. And while you're at it, why you're not bloody being charged like I would have been."

"Bribed the officer on duty," Harry said cheerfully, leaning against the kitchen door.

"You're the officer on duty," Malfoy countered, eyes narrowing at Harry's casual stance.

"Exactly," Harry said with no small measure of satisfaction. "It was quite easy in the end. Gave myself some chocolate, promised a nice new broom and I was convinced that charging me would be a bad idea. I'd thought it'd be more difficult, considering the trouble you've always claimed to have with it."

Malfoy drew an indignant breath, stalking to stand in front of Harry, arms on either side of Harry's head.

"Potter," he said slowly, staring at Harry in a way that made him more nervous than he would have liked. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

Rather than answer, he ducked under Malfoy's arms to move a few feet away. As ready as he was to admit to attraction, being stared directly in the face with it was more unnerving that he'd thought.

"Why did you come here? The first time, I mean? Why did you want to help me?" Malfoy looked away, measuring his words. "Please. I have no intention of turning this against you, I just want to know why."

"I know what it's like," he said eventually, keeping his eyes trained on Harry's fireplace. "To lose everything in your life, to claw your way back out and to realise that you've lost yourself in the process."

"So you just decided to help me out of the good of your heart?" Harry demanded. Malfoy snorted again, shaking his head.

"To be honest, I'd rather hoped that once you had some memory of what it was like to be your normal rule breaking self, you'd find a nice cosy job somewhere out of the Ministry and leave me the hell alone."

"Do you still think that?" Harry asked, turning away so he didn't need to see Malfoy's face when he answered.

"Yes." Harry clenched his eyes shut, resisting the first urge to storm into the bedroom and hide under the bedclothes that he'd had since the Quidditch match. "But it's not the only thing I think."

Harry turned, finding Malfoy had walked up behind him while he wasn't looking. He stepped back, finding himself blocked by the wall again, their pose mirroring the one he'd found himself in the first day Malfoy had come to harass him.

"Why did you do it, Potter?" He whispered, so close Harry could feel his breath tracing patterns across his mouth.

"Because you were right." Harry replied, forcing himself to look into Malfoy's eyes. "And I wanted to see what else in your life you were right about."

Malfoy's eyes flicked with something Harry couldn't quite understand and he leant forward, pressing his forehead to Harry's. Harry drew in a breath, letting his body melt against the wall, supporting both of their weight.

"You have no idea what you're getting into," Malfoy whispered, his mouth so close to Harry's that Harry could almost feel the pressure of it on his own.

"Then show me," he whispered back, tilting his head up to catch Malfoy's mouth in a kiss.

Harry hadn't realised his bedroom was so damned far away. Hell, he hadn't realised that there was anyone on the planet that could make him want so desperately that the small distance to the bedroom would seem like an eternity. He tried to detach himself from Malfoy long enough that he could drag them both the distance without interruption, but Malfoy had refused to let him and Harry couldn't bring himself to stop it again.

By the time they both collapsed on the bed Harry's cloak had fallen somewhere along the wayside. Harry fought with Malfoy's buttons, realising in exasperation that it wasn't as bloody easy as the movies made it out to be. Malfoy grinned above him, drawing the shirt quickly over his head and throwing it carelessly to the side.

"Never trust romance, Potter. That's rule number one."

"And how many rules are there?" Harry asked, challenge in his voice. Malfoy shook his head, leaning down for another kiss, quickly causing Harry to forget he'd ever asked a question. When Malfoy pulled away, Harry couldn't help but blush at the disappointed whimper that escaped him.

"Don't worry," Malfoy said, a devilish smirk on his face. "It'll be worth it."

Worth it didn't quite cover the sensation Harry felt as Malfoy, Draco, slid abruptly down the bed, blowing warm air over Harry's erection. In better circumstances Harry figured he'd be embarrassed by the whimpermoan that he hadn't quite realised himself capable of making, but the quick following of a wet tongue circling the head of his prick made that mortifying noise far more bearable.

"Oh god, do that again," he whispered, arching his hips as Draco complied. Clenching his fists into the sheets, Harry bit his lip as the warmwetwonderful tongue was replaced by Draco's mouth sucking him down more deeply than Harry realised a human mouth could conceivably fit. "Oh god, Draco, please..."

He regretted his words instantly as Draco pulled away from him to look at Harry suspiciously.

"Since when did you call me that?" He demanded, a hint of evil mischief dancing behind his infuriating silver eyes.

"You want to talk about that now?" Harry snapped, taut with tension. "Couldn't we save that for later, or-"

Harry was cut off by the feel of Draco's mouth closing over his, arching into the contact instantly. He felt Malfoy reach down to cup his hardness in one soft hand, causing Harry to moan in agreement. He slid his hand down Draco's back experimentally, realising that Harry was the only one who'd managed to get his clothes off.

Tugging at Draco's pants was a lot harder than it would have been if they weren't pressed so tightly together, Harry realised eventually, pushing him away only long enough to divest the blond of the rest of his clothing, idly wondering if he could throw them far enough that Draco would never be able to find them and thus spend the rest of eternity naked in Harry's bed.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asked roughly. Harry shook his head.

"Harry," he said unsteadily. Draco pressed his lips to Harry's neck, nodding.

"If we're going to do this," He whispered against Harry's skin, "I think it would be best..."

"Not if," Harry said desperately. "Don't take this from me now."

"Since we're going to do this," Draco continued, in a tone almost as unsteady as Harry's own. "I'd suggest starting with something that would be more familiar to you."

He didn't give Harry a chance to ask what familiar was supposed to be, reaching for the wand he'd somehow managed to stow by Harry's pillow when Harry was rather more distracted with other things. He uttered a spell that Harry had never heard before, tossing the wand onto the bed beside him.

Harry looked up at him questioningly, distracted by the kisses Draco was occasionally pressing to whichever part of Harry he could reach. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his bearings, when he felt a whisper of words and his arms pulled over his head. He tried to pull away, finding himself held tightly even as Draco's hands slid tantalisingly down his sides.

Opening his eyes, Harry looked above his head to see soft silver material binding his arms to the bed head. In a panic he looked for Draco, finding him still poised above him, face unreadable.

"Draco, what..." The blond's intentions became instantly clear as Harry felt the most incredible warm, tight, amazing sensation he could recall. He fought to pull his arms away from their bindings, determined to hold onto Draco's hips as he lowered himself down onto Harry slowly, breath coming in short gasps.

"Ready, Harry" he asked sardonically, not giving Harry a chance to answer before his hips moved, causing Harry to moan in happynesssurpriseohwhothefuckcares.

"God yes," he whispered as Draco moved himself above him, occasionally leaning down for a brief kiss. He tried to move his own hips in synch with Draco's but found that he had no idea what rhythm to use or what on earth he was supposed to be doing. Instead he let Draco lead, giving himself over to the sensation of the other man's skin on his own, and the way his breath tickled Harry's cheek every time he bent down for another kiss.

He felt himself coming apart more quickly than he really thought proper, but when he looked up he saw that Draco was having the same trouble he was. When Draco reached down to start stroking his prick in time with his thrusts, Harry had to close his eyes, trying desperately to prevent himself coming before Draco.

It was pointless in the end, Draco's movements sent him crashing over the edge in what felt like seconds but could as easily have been hours. His only comfort (besides the fantastic orgasm) was the feeling of warm stickiness exploding over his chest as Draco let himself flop on top of Harry. Harry wriggled slightly, trying to get his arms free.

Draco chuckled. "I suppose you've behaved yourself enough," he said, whispering the spell that let Harry's hands free. Unable to work out what he was supposed to do with himself, he raised his arms to encircle Draco's back, in an awkward attempt at a hug.

"Worth it, Potter?"

Harry grinned.


"Of all the things you've talked me into, Malfoy, this has got to be one of the worst," Harry muttered, reverting to last names to show his displeasure with his boyfriend of exactly two and a half days. Which would be the full amount of time they spent together, if the stupid git kept planning crap like this.

"Oh come on Potter, you've streaked at a Quidditch match. This is hardly difficult compared to that."

"Yeah, but I actually had something to gain by that," he muttered, ignoring the delighted grin on Draco's face. "The only thing I have to gain by painting Hermione's office black is a lecture as long as one of Binn's discussions of goblin rebellions."

"I'll have sex with you when we get back to your place," Draco suggested, licking his lips enticingly. Harry glared at him, highly tempted to stick his tongue out as well.

"You'd do that anyway," he pointed out. "In fact that's all we've done for the past two days and frankly I'd quite like to get back to it."

"Honestly, Potter, anyone would think I'm your custom, made-to-order blow up doll." Draco shook his head from his position beside Harry and sighed as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders. "Here I am, trying to do something fun..."

"Blow jobs are fun," Harry said under his breath, placing the tin of paint in the middle of Hermione's paperwork on the 'Quidditch Fiasco' the department was still talking about. "Can't see why we can't do that instead."

"I'm tempted to add flowers," Draco said musingly, looking appraisingly around Hermione's office. "Or snakes, I like snakes."

Harry bit his lip, pulling out his wand while Draco was distracted. When the blond turned around to gaze in apprehension at one of Hermione's Muggle toys, Harry raised his wand surreptitiously, casting the spell he'd spent...well, a grand total of an hour between breakfast and the shower researching that morning.

It was Draco's own fault he didn't check his shirt to see whether there was 'Harry Potter's blow up doll' written on the back anyway.

"Perhaps Dragons, or-" He turned around to see Harry's wand still in the air. "Potter, did you just curse me?"

Harry shook his head, trying to look innocent. As Draco craned his neck to look over his shoulder at the back of what Harry could only assume was his rather expensive shirt, Harry started to back away. When his boyfriend finally got tired of trying to turn his head all the way around and took the shirt off to take a better look, Harry took off, sprinting his way through the department's front door.

Draco was the one who said he should be having more fun anyway.
Tags: [fic], [long/chaptered fic], rated: nc-17, round: summer 2007

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