hd_hols (hd_hols) wrote in hd_holidays,

Happy H/D Holidays, everyone!

Author: chemical_haven
Recipient: hd_holidays
Title: Their own Epilogue
Pairing(s): Draco/ Harry
Summary: A year after an interesting confrontation that takes place following the final battle with the Dark Lord, Harry and Draco meet each other again, with an ending Harry would never have expected of his rival. Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): dub-con (at beginning of story), spanking, first time
Deathly Hallows compliant? Set right after the final battle ends, EWE
Word Count: 4,389
Author's Notes: Happy holidays! A big thank you to my beta N, as usual you help me so much!

It was over. Harry’s brain just couldn’t quite make the connection, even as he stood over what had once been Voldemort’s shell. It was actually over? Days, months, years ago it felt like the war with Him had been taking forever. Harry had honestly believed that maybe they hadn’t been moving forward at all, stuck in a limbo of searching and of missions that never seemed to deter the Dark Lord. But now – he was gone? Harry couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around it. Who would have thought that in a second it would all be over? A brief sense of amusement washed over Harry as he realized Voldemort was defeated in nearly exactly the same way as the first time – with a backfired spell. How ironic.

There seemed to be a silence around Harry, even though after everyone realized what had happened they all began cheering. There was an intense amount of movement and Harry felt his own body shifting but he felt numb. Shock settled over him and he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around what had just occurred.


The sun had finally risen and everyone who had survived (Harry had to remind himself to include this word) were gathered in the Great Hall – everyone seemed to be torn: do they celebrate the death of the most fear and powerful wizard in hundreds of years, or do they mourn the dead, it seemed to Harry that some were trying to do both. There seemed to be a bunch of people missing. He knew not everyone missing had failed to make it through the fight, that some were elsewhere on the grounds or in the building, tending to the bodies or rounding up Death Eaters for shipment to Azkaban. What a depressing thought.

He wanted to go stand by the Weasleys, to stand with the family over Fred’s body; his grief tore at him but he wasn’t an actual part of the family - as much as he had always included himself, he couldn’t intrude. Ron and Ginny stood with George, their arms around him. George looked stoic, void even, and Harry couldn’t imagine the grief that was plaguing him.

Harry tore himself away from the sight, looking over at Hermione who seemed to be calming some of the younger students. He had never thought of her as the motherly type, but as he watched her he realized there was so much about her he had never known before. He wondered how much of life he had missed out on in his quest against Voldemort. He wondered if he had time to make it up.

Earlier, just after It had happened Harry had been lifted on shoulders, celebrated as a hero, now though, he felt entirely alone. Everyone was taking care of something or someone and in that moment, he felt as though he had no one.

Sighing, Harry got up from the bench he had been sitting on; maybe he could find something to preoccupy his mind. It was as he was exiting into the Entrance Hall he saw a flash of white hair and a black cloak swipe around the corridor at the top of the main staircase. Malfoy. Harry wasn’t sure why he was stunned to see Malfoy there – perhaps Harry figured he should be with his parents; after all, Narcissa had lied to the Dark Lord to save her son’s life. In any case, Harry’s curiosity got the better of him and he ran up the stairs in pursuit.

It didn’t take Harry long to find the other boy – at the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Watching, Harry wondered what Malfoy would come back to his room for and saw, for the first time in his life, a real emotion come from Malfoy – sorrow.

"I’m sorry, Crabbe," that was all Malfoy said as he touched the singed wall.

Ashamed, Harry over road his anger at the other boy and decided to leave Malfoy to his grieving. He would deal with him later. But for as much practice at sneaking as Harry had, he couldn’t believe how bad he was it; as he turned to head back down the corridor he stumbled and ended up making a lot of noise as he fell on his tailbone.

"Who’s there?!" Harry winced, not just at his throbbing bottom but at having been discovered. "Potter?" there was almost a shock in Malfoy’s voice before that voice emerged, the one Malfoy seemed to reserve specifically for Harry. "What are you doing here?!"

"Why is it any of your business, Malfoy?" Harry snapped back. He always rushed into things – he had followed Malfoy wanting to confront him, but he didn’t have a damn word planned out.

"I just wanted to know why you were stalking me, Potter."

Harry wanted to growl at the sound of superiority that dripped from Malfoy’s voice. What gave Malfoy the right to talk like that? His family was now some of the most loathed wizards in Britain; Harry couldn’t wait to see how little special treatment Malfoy got now! Ha! That would show him.

Groaning, Harry struggled to his feet. He had never realized how hard the stone floor was. Dusting off his pants he glanced up to glare at Malfoy, surprised to find the pale face not directed at him at all but his attention on the hidden entrance. A thousand things raced through Harry’s mind at that moment but none of them would come out.

"You know…" Harry began; unsure if what he would have said would be comforting or vindictive. It didn’t really matter because Malfoy cut him off.

"Just bugger off, Potter."

Anger reared up in Harry like his moment of sympathy had never existed. "You’re such a bloody prat, Malfoy!" Without even thinking about it Harry shoved Malfoy as hard as he could against the wall Malfoy seemed so enraptured with.

Harry had seen a lot of looks of fury pass through Malfoy’s eyes over the years but nothing compared to the loathing that flared out at Harry at that moment. If Harry had ever felt threatened or scared of Malfoy, now was that time. The words that Malfoy hissed were as calm and cold as ice, but as piercing as snake venom, "Get your hands off me, Potter." It was that tone that made Harry realize why the Slytherins followed Malfoy, and it had nothing to do with his father.

Harry had never been one to back down though, especially when it came to Malfoy. Harry returned the gaze, and they stared eye to eye, Harry’s palms on Malfoy’s clavicles, pushing him against the wall as hard as he could manage, his fingers digging into Malfoy’s shoulder blades. Harry smirked when a flash of pain briefly overshadowed Malfoy’s anger. "You’re pathetic," Harry spat. He was about to release Malfoy when in the next moment, before Harry knew what had happened, Malfoy leaned forward and kissed him.


In his shock Harry had released Malfoy and the Slytherin had run off; Harry had chosen not to chase him. That had been nearly a year ago and Harry had been so wrapped up in the reforming of the ministry that he had all but forgotten the incident with Malfoy. He had heard shortly after that he had fought with his father and left the country but Harry wasn’t sure how true that was. It wasn’t until the first anniversary of Voldemort’s death that Harry saw the young Malfoy again.

Harry hadn’t told anyone about what had transpired that day, not even Ron or Hermione. They would have been disgusted, especially if they had found out that after it was over Harry had admitted, to himself of course, that he had kind of enjoyed it.

The party was in full swing at the Ministry: a celebration of their victory and a tribute to all those who had fallen during the war. Pictures of everyone lost in the fight filled one of the walls in the atrium – Dumbledore in the very center, framed on either side by the portraits of Lily and James Potter. Harry had been circling the room, chatting with his fellow Aurors and other guests; there were even some officials from other countries who were having a blast giving Harry a hard time. It was then, when the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria was teasing Harry about a recent match with Krum, which had ended in a tie, that Harry saw the blond hair sweep through the door.

At first, Harry hadn’t taken any notice of it. Blond hair wasn’t so uncommon, but those eyes – those piercing eyes. He tried not to react, tried to keep engaged in the conversion with the Minister, but his eyes wanted to follow his movements, just has they had in Hogwarts, to see what Malfoy was up to.

It didn’t take long to excuse himself – but by that time Malfoy had disappeared into the crowd. Harry sighed, trying to sashay over to Ron and Hermione who stood with Luna and Neville. "Have you seen Malfoy around here?" he tried to make the question sound as common as possible. But, like he thought would happen, all four eyebrows raised.

"Draco Malfoy?" Ron growled, as though their school time feud hadn’t had an almost two year break.

"Yeah, Draco Malfoy. I could have sworn I saw him."

"I heard he was off in New Zealand chasing Blibbering Humdingers, but that would be silly. Everyone knows they live in Finland!" Luna responded in her usual airy voice.

"Right…" Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. "Well, I could have sworn he was here."

"Harry, you look pale, are you sure you’re alright? Why would it matter even if he, or any of the Malfoys were here – they were acquitted because of what Narcissa did for you," Hermione stated, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I know. But Malfoy and I have some unfinished business."

Ron snorted and took a long drink of his punch – before shooting half of it out his nose. Everyone turned quickly to look at him and Hermione patted his back. Choking and sputtering Ron pointed at the other side of the room, across the temporary dance floor, to where Draco Malfoy stood in the shadows, sipping on a martini.

"Thanks Ron!" Harry said as he slipped away from the group, whose attention were now focused on Ron’s coughing fit. He was surprised that when he reached the other side of the room Draco was still there, leaning against one of the marble support poles, watching the witches and wizards and creatures alike who waltzed out on the dance floor.

"Malfoy," Harry realized his ability to be articulate in nervous situations hadn’t improved in the last year.

"Potter," Malfoy still had that same drawl to his voice – this time though there was no superiority or contempt for Harry.

"I heard you left the country…" He wanted to kick himself.

"I did for a time," Draco replied. "I needed to clear my head a bit. Think about what I had done and what I wanted in the future. Something I couldn’t have had with the way I had been living my life."

"And now?"

"And now I’m back. I’ve decided to restart my life, the way I want it." Harry nodded because he wasn’t sure how to respond.

"Still as eloquent as ever, Potter."

"And you’re just as snobby as ever, Malfoy." The blond chuckled.

Harry didn’t know what he had expected. Hostility maybe? But then again, it was him who should be hostile – Draco had kissed him after all, not the other way around.

"So?" Harry was sick of the small talk. He wanted an explanation.

"So what, Potter?" He was good at playing innocent, it was driving Harry crazy.

"So what?! I think you owe me an explanation or an apology or something!" He wasn’t yelling or even angry yet, but he needed to know what had happened.

"You mean about what happened that day after the battle?" That calmness was really annoying Harry.

"Yes, obviously."

"Oh…that was just a way to get away from you. Clever wasn’t it?" Malfoy shrugged, as though the whole situation was barely significant.

"Then that’s it," Harry was surprised that he was sort-of crushed that it hadn’t been more than that. He didn’t even like Malfoy…did he?

"Of course." And Harry had a distinct impression that that was the end of the end of that.

Harry clenched his fists in fury. How dare Malfoy act like that!? Just toss it away. That was so fucking-Malfoy. Why was it that Malfoy drove him so crazy?! No one else effected him that way. He wanted to punch him, to shove him up against the wall again.

"What’s the matter, Potter?" That superiority had filtered into his voice again. "Upset? You liked it, didn’t you?" Tears burned in Harry’s eyes, he hadn’t even realized he had gotten his hopes up. When the bloody hell had that happened?!

It was as though that day was happening all over again. He had thought everything that had happened had just been due to adrenaline – an overload on his system, trying to process everything that had occurred, but now, he wasn’t so sure. His brain seemed to haze over and when he could see straight again Malfoy was, once again, slammed against the wall.

Malfoy was laughing, "Killing the Dark Lord’s changed you Potter. You were never one to attack first."

Harry was breathing heavy and people close by were staring. Shocked, Harry released Malfoy and backed away several steps. Turning to the person nearest him Harry muttered a quick, "Excuse me," and ran to the nearest fire and flooed himself out of the party.

He arrived at his apartment shortly after 10 o’clock. He hadn’t realized how badly he had been shaking until he stepped into the spacious living room. "Fuck him! Fuck him!" He felt trapped, like he couldn’t breathe. Malfoy had never been able to get under his skin like this before – sure, they had always fought, but now it was something else, he didn’t know how to deal with him anymore!

The kitchen light was harsh after the darkness of his living room. Trying to calm his nerves he pulled the Firewhisky out of the liquor cabinet and poured himself a generous glass. It burned going down his throat but the chills that went down his spine were comforting. Why the hell would he have ever thought that Draco-fucking-Malfoy could or would ever change? Why had he subconsciously convinced himself that that kiss had meant anything? Why should it?

The second swig felt even better than the first and he finished the glass by the third. After the second glass he already had a nice buzz going - apparently the three drinks at the party, along with the whisky was starting to get to him, but Harry honestly couldn’t care less, anything to erase Malfoy and everything had happened between them. He was about to pour himself another when he heard the floo alarm go off. The glass and whisky bottle made a harsh clicking noise when he set them down. Who the hell?

Harry snuck around the corner, his wand at the ready. There was no one there, and he was about to blame it on an overactive imagination when a voice came from the high-backed winged chair to his right.

"Jumpy, Potter?" Malfoy.

"What the fuck do you want?" Harry snapped. Malfoy chuckled and cast a spell to light the candles.

"I’ve been waiting a long time, Potter," Malfoy whispered.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Harry put as much bite into his voice as he possibly could.

Malfoy stood up gracefully, apparently over the last year he had become much less of the coward Harry had always know him to be. Malfoy crossed the few steps between quickly and Harry noticed the several inches that Malfoy had over him. "For this," was all Malfoy replied before once again leaning in and kissing Harry.

Shock once again settled over Harry and he went completely still. He didn’t struggle, nor did he return the kiss. It wasn’t until Malfoy swept his tongue along Harry’s lower lip that Harry responded, but instead of returning the kiss he stumbled back.

"What the…" Harry choked out.

"Oh, come now, Potter, you’re not a complete idiot; I may have changed in the last year – but not enough to not play with you."

"What the hell, Malfoy!? I’m not a toy!"

"Yes, I do realize that, Potter, but I couldn’t resist an old bait, you always were so easy to get at," Malfoy said. "Come on, I know you liked it."

"That’s not the point Malfoy!"

"Come off it."

"No! You come off it! How dare you treat me like this?" Harry was fuming. Malfoy had always done this to him; he just kept pushing him and pushing him until he wanted to break. It hadn’t changed since school.

Malfoy meant to lean forward again but Harry sidestepped him. "I’m not sure what’s going on here Malfoy. For seven years we did nothing but fight. We were awful to each other, and I’ve always thought we hated each other. Then you pull that kissing shit a year ago and now here you are, doing it again, and I’m just a little confused on how things suddenly changed."

"They didn’t 'suddenly change,' Potter; there was just no way for me to admit it to you – we were in the middle of a war, and I was supposed to kill Dumbledore. Anyway, would you have believed me?" Malfoy’s eyebrow raised and his eyes cut into Harry.

"Do I believe you now? You’ve always found ways to embarrass me, what makes this any different?!"

"Because, Potter - it’d embarrass me just as much as it would you!"

Damn. He had a point there. Maybe it wasn’t a trick; maybe Malfoy just couldn’t admit it in school. Harry took another step back. "Wait…just wait; I need to think about this."

Malfoy didn’t move, he stood there and waited as Harry tried to work out all that he was telling him. "Alright, let’s just say I believe you, where would that leave us?" Harry asked, his buzz no longer affecting him as much as he would have liked.

"Well…that’s up to you. I’ve quite obviously made my intensions known."

Harry scoffed. He made it sound so obvious, but Harry didn’t see it as straight as Malfoy did. There Malfoy was again, this time though he wasn’t as quick about it. He moved slowly, gave Harry time to decide whether or not to move; he didn’t.

This time Malfoy’s lips were gentle, and he moved slowly enough that Harry wasn’t shocked by the movement. This time, instead of pushing back when Malfoy’s tongue swept along his lower lip, Harry responded by opening his mouth. A gentle moan escaped from Malfoy as they kissed and it sent the same shiver down his spine as the Firewhisky. Harry wasn’t sure how long the kiss went on for – perhaps just a few seconds, perhaps minutes; either way he knew Draco Malfoy was a better kisser than Cho or Ginny.
He was beginning to relax, allow Malfoy to kiss him and kiss Malfoy in return; he felt Malfoy’s fingers slid up his arms, across his cheek and into his hair. The feelings it sent though him were amazing. Hands began to explore. Harry had allowed his to wander along Malfoy’s exposed arms, across his lower back and after a few minutes their kisses had become greatly more passionate.

Harry was amazed when he found himself against the wall; it was strange and exciting that he was the one there this time. Malfoy’s hands were all over him; he had even undone several of his robe buttons and was snaking his fingers up under his undershirt.

Malfoy’s lips had moved to Harry’s neck, nibbling on his ear and Harry shuddered when Malfoy’s heavy breathing tickled its way along his sensitive skin and long fingers glided along Harry’s abdomen. Harry was glad he was against the wall; he was afraid his knees may have given out beneath him. The only reply he could manage a deep-throated moan and to dig his fingers in Malfoy’s soft hair as he kissed along Harry’s collar bone.

As Malfoy’s fingers and hands seemed to touch every right sensitive spot Harry felt extremely novice. He had barely fooled around with Ginny when they had been dating in school, and even then they had never gone farther than over-the-clothes touching. Not to mention that fact that they whole different sexes thing.

"Where’s the bedroom?" Malfoy whispered along the shell of his ear, but Harry felt it all the way down to his toes. Was he ready for that? He had only just found out that his school-hood nemesis liked him, and now he wanted to move to the bedroom? Harry stumbled for a moment, as Malfoy’s fingers slid along the waistband for his jeans before deciding – what the hell?

Harry had a brief moment to think how crazy this all was as Malfoy dragged him to the other room and flicked on the single bedside lamp. Pushed onto the bed, Harry watched as Malfoy’s clothes were stripped away; it was then, without Malfoy’s hands on him that he realized exactly how turned on he was. Just shifting caused just jeans to rub and a harsh breath to escape.

A smirk had spread across Malfoy’s lips - the same smirk that Harry had used to loathe and now it made him squirm. And those piercing eyes seemed to burn through Harry’s clothing. He wanted to be undressed; he wanted to be stared at by those eyes, caressed by those lips that had, not so long ago, been spitting nothing but words of hatred out at him.

Malfoy’s green robe was the first thing to hit the floor, though Harry felt dissatisfied to see the undershirt and black slacks. The pale fingers were almost mesmerizing as they undid the belt and pants button, sliding the zipper down. Harry nearly cried out. The hands pulled off the undershirt – exposing, as Draco had put it "a Quidditch toned body". Harry had always liked this look, but until now had always excused it to being, himself, a Quidditch player. His gaze was torn back to the pants now, as the contrasted hand pulled them slowly down, at the same time as the black boxer shorts.

It was a shock to Harry to see Malfoy standing butt-naked in front of him, completely confident and willing. His hands were shaking as they moved to his own clothing. The robe was easy enough to slide off his shoulders, but the buttons seem to be stuck when he went to move them. He felt clumsy, he had never done this before – had someone watch him as he undressed. After the first button finally went through though his confidence grew significantly and his finger stopped shaking. Removing his jeans wasn’t as graceful as Malfoy had been, but it seemed almost instantaneous before he was sitting naked on the bed.

"Malfoy, I’ve never…" He really didn’t want to sound stupid admitting he was a virgin.

"No worries, I know," and the blossom lips were upon his once again, except this time they were flesh to flesh and every brush of skin felt like tongues along Harry’s body.

There the hands were again, all over the naked bodies they pressed against each other. Harry gasped out loud when one of Malfoy’s hands slid along his erection, "Oh God!" Harry could feel Malfoy smile against his neck.

"You like that, Potter?" Malfoy coerced as he did the same the motion with a bit more pressure. Harry nodded and pressed his hips against Malfoy’s hands. Of course Harry had done the same motion to himself, he was no novice when it came to how to pleasure himself, but he was incredibly surprised at how incredibly different it felt when someone did it to him. He moaned when Malfoy pulled away, leaving Harry extremely dissatisfied.

"Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you like that," Malfoy smirked, and after rummaging in his pants for a moment he found what he wanted – a condom and a small bottle of lube. "Lie down." Harry fell off his elbows and watched Malfoy crawl toward him from the end of the bed. Harry watched as Malfoy applied the lube to his fingers, and Harry immediately clenched his entire body. He wasn’t ready for this!

"Calm down, Harry." It was the first time Malfoy had ever called him his first name.

Of course it hurt when Malfoy began, but he went slow enough for Harry to adjust. And after a few minutes, not only was he as hard as a rock, but he was as ready as before Malfoy had interrupted the caressing. Harry became nervous again when Malfoy removed his fingers and, after sliding on the condom, adjusted to slide into Harry. "Just like before, Harry," and he leaned down and kissed him.

Like the fingers, Malfoy went slow, but after a time they built up a rhythm that worked for them. Harry groaned when Malfoy’s hand found its way to Harry’s hard-on and began to pleasure him. His eyes rolled back into his head and he could feel the pressure building up throughout his entire body. Deep grunts and moans escaped both sets of lips as the friction built between them.

Harry cried out when Malfoy pulled out of him and removed his hand from pleasing him. "Flip onto all fours," Malfoy gasped. Harry obeyed, and moaned as their activities continued. Those fingers were back on him, pulling and twisting. He let out a gasp of pain and shock as Malfoy brought his hand quite sharply against his ass. It stung, but the feeling just added to the feeling of everything.

It wasn’t long after the spankings began that they both came, groaning and sighing, their hands caressing each other as Malfoy cast a clean up spell. Malfoy turned off the lamp and they curled up around each other.

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Harry."

Harry fell asleep quickly, but he feel asleep worrying what they would tell everyone in the morning.

---------- Fin
Tags: [fic], rated: nc-17, round: winter 2007

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