Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, implied Harry/Ginny (it’s only a mention though)
Summary: He had the resolve to defeat the Dark Lord...does he have any left to combat Malfoy?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): rimming, dub-con, rough sex
Deathly Hallows compliant? Is DH compliant, but not epilogue compliant.
Word Count: 5, 644
Author's Notes: Much, much love, hugs, kisses and anything else one can give to my beta, DP. She was a great help to me. Told me when I was being drawn out and boring. Helped to give me a tad bit of filler, and added when I lacked in depth and emotion. I will always remember her as the best beta and friend I could ever have. Thank you so much, hon.
Harry turned at the sound of his name, wondering what Malfoy wanted when he realized that was who had called for him. His expression darkened with suspicion. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
Draco eyed Harry’s friends, who the Gryffindor had been talking to when he had opened his mouth. He fought the urge to sneer. "I’d like to speak to you; in private if you don’t mind," Draco emphasized, a pointed look in Weasley and Granger’s direction, lip curling slightly.
Harry stared at Malfoy, just for a minute, trying to gauge his intentions. Malfoy didn't blink, and Harry thought he looked rather bored. Slightly nervous, maybe, but he might have imagined it. Turning to Ron and Hermione he decided, "I'll meet up with you guys later."
Ron gave Malfoy a mistrustful look and stepped forward, but Hermione's hand immediately settled on Ron’s left elbow and Harry's, on his opposite forearm, stopping Ron from pounding Malfoy amidst the celebration and the grief. "Don’t worry," Harry said to him, meeting his skeptical look. "It’ll be fine." It took a moment, but Ron nodded and followed Hermione down the hall. Harry waited until they were both preoccupied with Ron’s family before turning to look back at Malfoy expectantly.
"Not here, it’s too crowded," Malfoy said, indicating the students, teachers, and families milling around the Great Hall.
Harry nodded at this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be alone with Malfoy, but his curiosity was piqued. He gave the sharp-eyed Slytherin a stiff nod and followed behind, lagging only because of classmates, Ministry workers and people he’d never even met before patting him as he passed: on his hands, his back, any part of him, really, and reverently whispered their gratitude. He idly squeezed the hands that grabbed hold of his, offering them wan smiles to display both his exhaustion and his apology for not pausing to grieve with them, until he felt a familiar tug on his hand. It was different from the others.
He'd know Ginny's soft hands anywhere. He knew it was hers because he'd spent many a cozy afternoon after Transfiguration or Charms holding that hand, small and smooth, in the common room, or on a walk along the Black Lake's edge or at the Burrow. And he knew it was her, because even in the rank stench of battle-worn grief, he could smell her flowery perfume.
He turned to her, meeting brown eyes duller than her usual bright gaze, and more suspicious. She didn't have to say anything, but he knew her eyes were peering over his shoulder. Was Malfoy waiting for him? Probably, but he didn't want to turn around to find out. Instead he smiled, brighter than his usual half-smiles, but still mournful, reassuring her without words. She smiled then, just a faint crinkle at the corner of her lips and let his hand go, let him go, to Malfoy. He didn't want to leave her, not when she'd just lost Fred, but he wanted to get whatever Malfoy wanted over with. The sooner he could get back to his friends, the better.
He paced briskly up the aisle, noticing Malfoy's impatient look, and followed him out of the buzzing Great Hall and just down the hallway. They stopped in front of a door with a sign, reading: ‘Prefects Only’. Malfoy had reached inside his robes and produced a silver key, which he used to unlock the door with.
Malfoy closed and locked the door behind him as they entered and made his way over to Potter, who had taken a seat on one of the many comfy chairs in the room. The other boy had looked up as Draco moved to stand in front of him. "Okay," he said warily, eyeing the Slytherin boy, "We’re in private. What did you want to talk to me about?"
Draco stiffened, nervous at what he was going to say. Taking in a steadying breath, he said haltingly, "About earlier in that…strange hidey-hole room."
Harry’s brow creased. "The Room of Requirement? What about it?" he asked. What was Malfoy getting at?
Malfoy sighed and crossed his arms, looking away briefly. "I wanted to thank you for…saving my life back there," he said. "If it wasn’t for you, I would have died."
Harry blinked up at him, clearly not expecting this. "It was the least I could do," he replied. "You knew who we were when my friends and I were at your house, and you never really ratted us out."
"Yes I did," Malfoy said, creasing his eyebrows together in thought. Harry thought he saw his grey eyes dart to his lips for a moment, anxious. "Remember I said I thought it was you?"
Harry sighed and shook his head. "Malfoy, you didn’t outright say ‘Yes, that is definitely them!’ You were vague, but that wasn’t your fault. They kept pestering you about it, remember now?" Harry said.
Draco sighed, taking a seat next to him. It suddenly occurred to Harry that here Malfoy had been trying to find some way to thank him for helping him out, and instead, he’d turned the tables and was instead thanking him. And from the look on Malfoy’s face, he certainly wasn’t going to allow that to happen.
A few moments passed with the two of them remaining silent, neither one really knowing what to say to the other. The war was over: Voldemort was dead, his remaining followers rounded up for questioning and punishment. Harry now, wasn’t sure what to do with himself. There’d be time for grieving the dead and fixing Hogwarts to the way it used to be. For now, all he wanted was to get back to the Great Hall. Malfoy’s behavior was unnerving him.
Minutes passed by before Harry stood up to leave. "I'd better get back," he declared in the awkward silence. "Ron and Hermione will be worried." And Ginny, he thought to say, but didn't voice it. The last thing he needed was Malfoy insulting him in the same sentence he'd just thanked him in. He wouldn't put it past the Slytherin.
Harry walked the short distance to the door, hand on the knob, before he felt Draco press up against him from behind and Draco’s hand lying firmly against the door. Harry spun around wildly, finding himself suddenly and unnervingly trapped in Draco’s embrace. "What…?" He was able to get out before Draco crushed his mouth against the Gryffindor’s.
Harry’s eyes widened at the feel of the other boy’s lips against his own. He stood there in shock, mouth open and not protesting against an insistent tongue. Malfoy seemed encouraged by this and pressed his body against his, aligning their groins together. The kiss felt different than Ginny, much different. Ginny certainly didn't kiss like this: rough, and wild with abandon. Harry wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to care. Thoughts of what happened with the war and his blossoming relationship with Ginny seemed to fade in the background; all that was important was the feel of Draco’s lips on his.
Draco breathed hotly into Harry’s mouth, turned on by the little moans the other boy was uttering while being kissed. He moved his hands down from Harry’s face, dragging them down onto Harry’s arse, kneading it, and pulling him roughly into his erection. He smirked into the Gryffindor’s mouth when Harry groaned at the contact, going limp at the intense sensations running through his body.
The blond pulled away a moment to look into Harry’s eyes, hidden partially behind his glasses. Harry scrunched his eyebrows together, unsure as to why Draco had stopped. Before he could open his mouth to ask, "What?" Draco grabbed one of Harry’s arms and began dragging him towards the middle of the room. Harry wasn’t quite sure why Draco was doing this, or even why he himself was going along with this, but he hoped the Slytherin would continue very soon. Harry was actually enjoying the kissing, even if it was with Malfoy of all people.
His eyes closed as Draco moved closer and closed in on Harry’s neck, breath hot, panting, exuding sheer masculinity. Draco leaned in to sniff him before licking a stripe along the exposed skin from Harry’s collar to his ear. Harry took in a sudden, sharp breath at the feel of Draco’s tongue, sighing at the vibrations running through him at the intimate act.
Draco pulled back and pushed Harry’s robe off his shoulders, taking his own off afterwards. Harry shivered a little bit as soon as his robe fell to the floor with a woomph sound. He breathed out as Draco moved in to kiss him again, grabbing the hem of Harry’s shirt, breaking away long enough to pull the shirt up over his head. Harry didn’t want to remain passive, so he reciprocated the gesture by removing Draco’s own shirt; he wasn’t sure why he was going along with this in the first place. Wasn’t he with Ginny? Was it the sex? He had no idea, but he was surprised to find himself undressing Draco.
The Gryffindor frowned slightly when Draco suddenly pushed down on his shoulders. It took him a moment, but he finally gathered that Draco wanted him on his knees. But why? Nevertheless, Harry did so, making a slight oomph as his knees hit the rug-covered floor. Draco followed suit immediately after, pulling Harry back to him to resume their kissing. Moments passed before he felt Draco’s hands at the fastenings of his trousers. He swallowed audibly as his trousers were spread open and a curious hand rubbed against his groin. Harry sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, moaning as the Slytherin squeezed gently.
Harry took another deep breath, steadying himself, and opened his eyes, staring at the boy in front of him. After a moment, he brought his hands to Draco’s trousers, undoing the fastenings before pulling them down just below the Slytherin’s groin. Draco smirked at Harry, leaning forward and capturing Harry’s lips in a deep kiss.
The dark-haired boy sighed quietly as Draco kissed his breath away. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to go through with what he thought the Slytherin had in mind. Furrowing his brows, Harry pulled back from Draco's lips, throwing a forearm out to stop him when Draco leaned in to continue. Clearing his throat, Harry asked, "Malfoy?"
"Hmm?" Draco dreamily inquired, leaning forward to resume the interrupted kiss, grey eyes zeroed in on the Gryffindor’s lips. Harry’s brow creased even deeper in exasperation and he pulled away completely and stood up, pulling up his trousers in the process.
"Malfoy, I don’t think we should continue this. We don’t even like each other," Harry said as he grabbed his shirt from off the floor before folding his arms across his chest.
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, getting up from the floor and yanking the shirt from Harry’s hands, tossing it to the side. "Potter," he gruffly began, "No one ever said one had to like another to have sex with them."
Harry frowned at this deeply. "That’s exactly my point, Malfoy. I’m not going to shag someone I don’t care about," Harry said, glaring at him, or tried to. He found it a bit hard to glare at someone with their trousers open and a certain part of their body pointing at him, weeping.
Draco sneered, snorting quietly at Harry's steadfast loyalty. So Gryffindor. So pathetic. "What, waiting for the Weaslette? Or worse: Weasley?" He smirked at Harry’s scowl, and the other boy’s eyes hardened. "You think she's actually saving herself for you?" He couldn’t help the derisive snort that passed his lips again. "You're more pathetic than I thought, Potter. The Weaslette's been ridden more than the Hogwarts Express, and that's saying something."
"Piss off, Malfoy!" Harry growled, as he balled up his hand into a fist and swung at Draco, clipping the corner of his lip.
Draco’s head whipped back at the impact, stumbling back, his fall stalled by his knee hitting the armrest of a chair. Grunting, he brought a finger to his lip, pulling it back, and found blood. He smirked, looking up at Harry beneath his lashes. "Anyone ever tell you that you hit like a girl?"
"Shut up, Malfoy," The Gryffindor hissed, fists balled up and readying for another strike.
Draco affected a bored mask and pulled his trousers up so they wouldn’t fall down around his knees. He then took a step towards Harry, which caused him to take a step back. He took another step towards Harry, who again, took a step back. They kept this up until Harry’s back hit the closed door and the wizard froze, green eyes widening slightly in alarm.
Draco allowed a victorious smirk in Harry’s direction before moving until he was once again pressed up against him. Harry gulped quietly, shifting uncomfortably at the feel of Draco’s erection pressed against his own. Taking in a deep breath, steeling himself, Harry asked, "What are you doing?"
"What do you think, Potter?" Draco asked scathingly, running a hand along Harry’s thigh. "I’m not going to let you get me riled up and then leave me due to a sudden burst of conscience."
"Let me go, Malfoy."
"I will once I’m finished with you," Draco replied, suddenly pressing his lips against Harry’s. Harry narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to the onslaught of Draco’s tongue against his lips. Closing his eyes, he sighed into the Slytherin’s mouth, sliding his tongue along Draco’s.
Draco had brought his hands up to Harry’s face, moving them to muss up his hair. Harry brought his own hands up to the Slytherin’s face, but rather than indulge, he pulled him away from his lips, hands braced against his chest. He followed Draco’s grey gaze to his forestalling hand, then watched his eyebrow raise. "What’s the matter, Potter? Getting cold feet again?"
"I told you, Malfoy," Harry sighed, frustrated, in more ways than one. "I can’t do this with someone I don’t care about."
Malfoy nodded his head a moment before Harry suddenly saw stars as his head was roughly slammed into the door. He grunted at the pain this caused before he rushed the other wizard, knocking him down to the floor.
The two boys grappled with one another, fighting for dominance, of what, neither really knew. They just knew that the one who wound up on top was the winner, if one could call it that. Harry found himself to be the one on top a few times before Draco banged his forehead against his, making the Gryffindor grunt and see stars bursting in his vision. Harry opened his eyes, his sight blurry as his glasses had fallen off his face sometime between the headbutt and now in their fighting.
Draco had ‘won’, he was disappointed to note; he hovered above Harry’s squinting green eyes, smirking down at him. He didn’t hear Draco say anything as he leaned his head down to capture Harry’s lax lips. Harry renewed his struggle for a bit against the Slytherin before finally giving in. He’d tired himself out from the fight, which he reluctantly admitted to himself, he had enjoyed. Yes, he had been in a life and death struggle with Voldemort only hours before, but his fight with Malfoy had almost reenergized him, even if he was worn out from it.
Harry opened his mouth to Draco’s seeking tongue, thrusting his own into the other boy’s mouth. He heard Draco moan as he felt Harry respond to the heated kiss.
Once again, Draco reached down to the fastenings to Harry’s trousers, popping the button from the hole and pushing down the zipper. Draco placed his hand inside Harry's underwear, squeezing the hard cock he found there, almost to the point where it caused Harry pain. Draco enjoyed the feel of the smooth skin of Harry's hard length. And Harry had moaned deeply at the hand on his cock, probably never having felt someone else’s hand there before, except his own.
Draco removed his hand from within Harry’s underwear, eliciting an unhappy noise from him at this action. He shushed him by bringing their mouths together once more. His own hands went to the other boy’s trousers and underwear, pulling them down his hips, past his knees and off his feet; leaving Harry in only his socks and shoes since Harry’s shirt had been removed earlier along with Draco’s own.
Harry felt strange wearing only his socks and shoes while Draco continued to kiss him. Harry almost wanted to shout ‘now what!?’ when he felt Draco pull away from his lips again. Hadn’t he already given in to being buggered by Malfoy when he stopped struggling and let the Slytherin take his trousers off?
Draco pulled his own trousers and underwear off, along with his shoes. He kept his socks on because his feet got cold easily, although he wasn’t about to tell Potter that; some things people just didn’t really need to know.
Draco paused for a moment, frowning. They needed lube, and he didn’t exactly carry any around with him. It wasn’t not like he spent his entire life shagging people left and right, and besides even if he had, he hadn’t really been in the mood to go around having sex while he’d been with the Dark Lord, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would make anyone flaccid. Well, except maybe his aunt Bellatrix. Draco had the strangest image of his aunt and the Dark Lord shagging. It was this unpleasant thought that made Draco stick his tongue out and make a gagging face.
Harry witnessing this, asked, "Malfoy?" He didn’t think he was that unappealing, or was he? And what’d that say about Malfoy?
Draco shook his head and leaned down to kiss Harry, trying to convey that it wasn’t Harry that turned him a bit green. He nearly grinned as Harry opened his mouth at the onslaught, moaning into the kiss. Since Draco didn’t have any lube, and as far as he knew, there weren’t any charms or spells to produce lube, he only had one thing he could use: spit. Draco held himself back this time from making a face at how nasty that was, but what could he do?
Harry sighed loudly when Draco pulled away again. He was beginning to become mildly annoyed with Draco’s fluctuations. Before he could voice this, his eyes widened as Draco grabbed hold of his legs, raised them, and spread them widely apart. Harry couldn’t help the blush that spread throughout his body at this action. His eyes looked everywhere but at Draco, wondering what the boy was up to. He wasn’t very comfortable being displayed, as he was, especially naked.
Draco looked at Harry, on his back, spread open for what was to come; smirking inwardly at the red-cheeked embarrassment the dark-haired boy was showing. Leaning his head down, Draco blew a hot breath over Harry’s opening, eliciting a surprised gasp from the boy beneath him. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a wet semi-solid object touch him in a very private place. He wasn’t exactly sure what Draco was thinking of, being down there between his legs, doing that, but it felt oddly good, if not very strange.
Draco continued to lick along Harry’s hole, sucking deeply along the ridge, making Harry squirm and pant. Draco stiffened his tongue as he inserted it in past the tight ring of muscle. He enjoyed the musky taste and smell coming from Harry, he wasn’t sure why though. He normally didn’t do this to his partners. While Draco had only had one other male lover, he never had to do this with him or his few female partners which, contrary to popular belief -- and quite sadly -- hadn't been many.
Harry opened his eyes, blinking a bit when he felt Malfoy pull away; letting his legs back down. He still couldn’t quite look at Malfoy, but he was getting kind of worried when the Slytherin had stopped what he had been doing. Harry gasped so hard his chest actually stabbed with pain for a second, when Draco took the entire length of Harry’s cock into his mouth. He’d felt Draco hold down his hips for fear of choking and suffocating when Harry bucked wildly.
"Oh, shit! Oh, God!" Harry shouted at the continuous sucking Draco was doing. Draco had pulled up, sticking out his tongue to lick along the length of his purple cock. Harry was sweating profusely by this time, taking in great gulps of air, and feeling like he was going crazy with lust. He felt Draco move his back down his cock, his mouth making obscene slurping noises as he did so. Harry made a little noise of surprise, as Draco hummed and he came.
Harry licked his dry lips and closed his eyes, mortified, feeling bad that not only did he come way too quickly, but he hadn’t even warned Malfoy. "Sorry," he mumbled quietly, pink tingeing his face and ears.
Harry felt bad and wouldn’t look at Draco, but flinched a little when he felt the pure-blood wizard move up his body and he could feel breath across his cheek as Draco exhaled.
Draco spat Harry’s come onto the floor. Moving his head down to kiss Harry deeply, tongue flicking inside the slightly parted mouth.
Once Draco pulled away, Harry coughed once and took a deep breath, sticking his tongue out at the nasty taste his come had. He’d never knew it was so gross, although Malfoy hadn’t seemed bothered by it. Maybe he liked the taste of it?
Draco moved down Harry’s body once again, sitting back on his heels to look down at Harry. Harry looked up at Draco a moment before hastily turning his head to look at the wall. He flushed, staring hard across the room as he felt Draco rubbing his hole: who knew the wall had such a lovely pattern?
Harry closed his eyes as he felt Draco rearranging his legs again, spreading them out and scooting closer to his privates. There’s more? Harry couldn’t help but think to himself, as he felt Draco run a hand up his flank.
Draco smirked down at Harry as he watched the Gryffindor’s thoughts openly flit across his face, obviously not realizing he was doing it. Draco brought a hand up to his mouth and spat a big gob of spit into it, sliding it down his cock. Spitting once more, he brought his hand to Harry’s slightly looser hole and pushed a finger inside, causing Harry to grunt and squirm at the odd feeling.
Harry breathed out heavily through his nose as Draco continued to wiggle his finger in and out of him. Draco was now adding a second, and then Harry felt the third finger enter, Draco spreading them out, pushing and pulling them back and forth. He felt the burn and began to pant, as the invading fingers stretched him wider. After a few moments, Draco removed his fingers all together, spat once more into his hand, rubbed it over his cock a second time, and lifted Harry’s legs to rest over his shoulders.
Suddenly, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to go along with this any longer when he felt the head of Draco's cock against his hole. His eyes bulged almost painfully out of their sockets as he felt Draco push inside, burning and stretching, past the first ring of muscle. What am I doing? Harry thought frantically as he clenched his hands, grabbing fistfuls of the rug and using his feet as leverage to push away.
Draco growled, leaning forward to grab at Harry's hips, dragging him back towards his body.
Harry froze, hearing Draco's gruff, "Potter," before Draco captured his slack lips in a fiery kiss as he moved his body forward, dick and all, making Harry gasp loudly as he was suddenly impaled on the turgid cock invading him. Harry's hand unclenched from the rug he had in a death-grip, making its way to Draco's hair, yanking on it as he began to thrust wildly into Harry’s body. The power of Draco's thrusts lifted Harry's arse up from the rug, leaving his back to drag along the coarse fabric, causing to feel slight burning sensations. At the pain, Harry cried out in Parseltongue, slipping unknowingly into the ancient and rare language.
Draco himself shuddered heavily at this, finding the hissing damn right sexy.
Harry’s cock was bobbing, slapping between their stomachs, leaking precome with each thrust of Draco’s hips, making him moan and clench his arse. Draco cried out at the feel of Harry clenching down around him, pausing a moment to regain control before he came too soon. As he was paused, Draco leaned over until his chest met Harry’s, grabbing both of the dark-haired boy’s hands and bringing them up above Harry’s head before crossing them and lifting Harry’s head to lay on his crossed arms. This in turn made it so Harry’s face was closer to Draco’s chest, almost as if he were trying to bite at Draco’s nipple. He vaguely noted if he wasn’t too immersed in getting fucked by Malfoy, he actually might have.
Using Harry’s hands as leverage, Draco picked up speed, slamming harder and harder into the boy beneath him. Harry let out a long, loud cry as his legs dangled uselessly along the sides of Draco’s hips. Draco leaned his head down to capture Harry’s mouth, sliding his tongue inside as he continued his punishing thrusts. Harry kissed back, noticing that Draco’s mouth was a little dry from breathing in and out of it so heavily.
Draco smirked as Harry cried out and squirmed as much as he could when he hit something inside of him, practically bringing tears to the other boy’s eyes. Draco felt the little nub of flesh he’d poked by accident, angling his hips to hit that spot again and again. Harry moved his head to the side, crying out and cursing Draco every time he hit that sensitive spot inside of him. Draco pulled harder on the hands in his own, which brought Harry’s face back to Draco. Leaning down, Draco captured Harry’s lips, slick with saliva, as he had drooled a bit when he’d turned his head. Finally. Harry gasped hard as he came; the stabs to his prostate being too much, as well as the feel of Draco’s hard cock moving in and out of his body, the smell of Draco, his scent musky and manly.
Draco felt Harry clench obscenely tight around his cock, almost making him come right on the spot. After a few more thrusts inside the boy beneath him, Draco threw his head back, almost to the point of cricking his neck, as he came deeply within Harry, feeling as if his life drained out along with his come out of his dick.
Harry brought his arms to circle around Draco’s back once his hands were released. His neck hurt a little from the awkward position it had been in while Draco had been pounding into him, but he didn’t mind it much, now.
Draco gave one last kiss to Harry’s lips before pushing up onto his hands and pulling out of Harry as slowly and carefully as he could. He knew it’d still hurt since they’d only used spit for lube and he’d known Harry had been a virgin, to anal sex at least, based solely on his reaction before they’d began.
Harry grimaced at the pulling feel as Draco dragged his cock from within his body, feeling the other boy’s come ooze down the backs of his thighs. His hole still felt stretched, burned, as if there were still something up there, but a few slight clenches of his hole made it feel a little like it usually did.
Draco got to his knees, scrambling around the floor for his and Harry’s clothes, carefully avoiding Potter’s eyes lest he catch them. He knew they’d been gone awhile and Potter’s friends, as nosy as they were, would wonder what happened and come looking for them. And he really didn’t want to have to explain to Weasley and Granger why he and Potter were starkers. The thought of those two was powerful to wilt any erection he'd have for years to come; more so than thoughts of Potter and the Weaslette together.
Draco and Harry both dressed in silence, not wanting to break the quiet mood, fragile with inappropriate words. What could one say anyway? Thanks for shagging my brains out, let’s do it again, how does next Tuesday sound?
As he dressed, Harry noticed hand-shaped bruises along his wrists from where Draco had grabbed him earlier. He scowled at the back of Draco's head, since the Sltherin was busy dressing himself and had his back to Harry, so the scowl was left unseen. How am I going to hide these from Ron and Hermione? He thought, frowning at himself. And what will Ginny say if she sees them? But the voice in the back of his head that was proudly shouting her cause in his ear, was tiny and meek; barely audible over the pounding in his chest. But he couldn't think of Ginny now.
Not after what he'd done with Malfoy. Not after he'd let his rival use him like that. Then his eyes drifted off to look for any other marks, but he didn't notice any on his hands, where Draco had had a vice-like grip on them as they had shagged. He winced as he put his shirt on, feeling the burns the rug had given him as Draco had thrust possessively into his body. He couldn't help but blush as he realized he'd just been shagged by his arch nemesis as a sharp pang in his arse blossomed. How was he supposed to sit down any time in the future? Harry really wanted to bang his head into the wall at how stupid he had been for letting Malfoy have his way with him.
After Draco finished dressing, he turned to look at Harry, who seemed to be in the middle of a major battle with his inner turmoil. He waited until Harry realized he was being watched, and looked over, face scrunched warily at Draco’s smirk. "What?" he asked defensively.
"Nothing," Draco said airily. He watched Harry's eyes narrow further when the usual sneer stretched on his face.
But Draco said nothing further, and as he passed him on the way to the door, he said over his shoulder, "Thanks for the ride, Potter. I now see why the Dark Lord was after your arse for so long." His leer widened. "I'll certainly look forward to reading about this in The Life and Times of the Boy Who Lived. Can't wait to hear what your adoring fans'll think."
Harry scowled deeply. He already hated what he'd done; now the Slytherin was basically throwing it in his face, making fun of him. "Fuck off, Malfoy."
"Already did, thanks."
Harry bristled, hand clenching around his wand, Draco's wand, as Malfoy stepped into the hall. He had a mind to hex him, make him pay, make him hurt. Power and anger vibrated in him as Draco paused, hand still on the doorknob, to turn and look at him.
"Oh...do hurry. Wouldn't want to keep your little fan club waiting." His grey eyes darkened. "Not to mention the little Weaslette," Draco gibed, waving jovially at Harry as he walked down the hall, leaving him to stare at his retreating form.
Leaving Harry feeling like something someone had stepped in.
Feeling the urge to break something, preferably over a certain blond’s head, Harry sighed deeply and walked through the doorway and out into the hallway. He placed his hands in his pockets, deep in thought, as he walked the relatively short distance back to the Great Hall. The air of the Great Hall felt heavier than that of the Prefects Meeting Room. He felt a little better at that, morbid though it was.
As he approached the Hall, he saw Ron and Hermione’s worried looks as he made his way over to them. Harry pasted on a fake smile, fighting the urge to stare at his trainers instead (dirty and tainted, just like he was now), as he walked up to them. Ron was looking at him, like he might suddenly sprout tentacles out of his ears, but stayed quiet nonetheless. Hermione smiled brightly at him, just looking glad nothing untoward had happened while he was off with Malfoy. They had been gone a long while, he realized, and it probably took a lot of self-control to keep her and Ron from assembling a search party when they hadn’t returned after a few minutes.
He was so focused on Malfoy, he hadn’t noticed Ginny walk up to him and lay a concerned hand on his arm. He smiled weakly at her, her eyes still dull and filled with turmoil: torn between celebrating their victory and the need to grieve. He brought her hand up and wrapped himself around her, embracing her, offering comfort.
Harry then noticed grey eyes watching them, watching him, across the hall. As Ginny’s arms tightened around him and he felt the warmth of her tears wetting his shirt, guilt consumed him. He was feeling guilty he had abused her trust, and in the worst way possible. What would she think if she ever found out what he had done? Harry decided there and then, as grey eyes looked away, that he’d keep what he and Malfoy had done a secret.
He’d protect his friends, and Ginny, and himself.
He’d take this secret with him to the grave.