Deligo Sanguis

Chapter Eleven

St. Valentine’s Day

ONE

Draco had found it most unfair when Harry went off on him for stealing Snape’s Veritaserum. Draco hadn’t even gotten into trouble for it, for crying out loud! Harry would have done the same thing if it had been him, but he just went off about how reckless and dangerous that it had been. Draco couldn’t believe it, but as much as it angered him, it amused him as well. Harry had obviously been very worried about Draco, and vented that worry by getting angry. It was cute… in an overprotective sort of way.

Now it was February; it was cold, the ground was covered with snow, Draco was grumpy because of the bad weather, and Harry wanted to get together for St. Valentine’s Day. Draco had never, never celebrated St. Valentine’s Day. It was so Catholic, so… Muggle! It was enough of an insult to Wizard kind that Hogwarts recognized the holiday at all, and now Harry wanted to celebrate with him. It was so… beneath both of them! With a sigh, Draco had agreed because it made Harry happy. He felt that he might be loosing his mind. St. Valentine’s Day… honestly.

“I think we should just stay inside,” Harry said with a silly little smile on his face. “We could have a private dinner, and maybe I could get Dobby to nick us some wine.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You do realize you’re acting like a girl, don’t you?” he asked, watching Harry fondly from his perch on top of his usual desk.

Harry, who was lying on his back on the floor, ignored the jab. “Maybe we could spell the room like we’re outside,” he went on. “You know, like Firenze did last year when he was teaching Divination.”

“I don’t even recognize this bloody holiday,” Draco replied. “I’ll let you make all of the arrangements.”

Harry turned to look at him, his goofy smile fading into a frown. “I don’t care about St. Valentine. I don’t even know why he’s a saint. I just think it’s romantic, but if you really don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to.”

Draco waved him off with a small smile. “I’m sure it’ll be fun,” he assured. “I just don’t see why it has to be on St. Valentine’s Day. I mean, it’s not like we’re Muggles. We’re not even Christian, for God’s sake! What difference does it make? We can be romantic whenever we feel like it.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “What makes you think I’m not a Christian?” he asked.

Draco couldn’t help it: he laughed. He laughed so hard his sides started to hurt and tears streamed down his cheeks. Harry looked most annoyed, which only made Draco laugh harder, gripping the stitch that had taken hold of him. After a while, he finally got control of his mirth.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Harry said grumpily.

Draco, still chuckling lightly, tried to lighten Harry’s mood. “Harry, you and I are the complete antithesis of Christianity. If we lived in the middle ages, those Christians out there wouldn’t hesitate to burn us at the stake. It even says in their bible, ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’. You can’t be a wizard and a Christian at the same time. You’d be a walking oxymoron.”

Harry cracked a smile. “I guess you’re right,” he muttered.

“Ha!” Draco crooned, punching the air in victory.

“Don’t get cocky,” Harry said. “You’re not going to hear me say that very often.”

Draco chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

“You make sure you do,” Harry snipped.

Draco chuckled again and waved his hand vaguely. “Carry on with your romantic pish posh.”

Harry glared at him half-heartedly before doing just that.

TWO

Severus watched with amusement as Airy spun about happily, reveling in the sunlight. Harry had a bemused expression on his face as he watched Airy’s antics.

“Look at the birds!” she exclaimed, pointing out a small nest of birds that hadn’t migrated for the winter. “Listen to ‘em! Their wee little voices are just splendid!”

Severus wondered how long it had been since Airy had seen the sun.

“Look at how the sun shines off of the snow!” she exclaimed, dropping to roll about in it. She was making a spectacle of herself, but Severus didn’t mind. He found it endearing.

Harry looked around. “It always looks like this in the winter time,” he said, frowning at the woman, who was in the process of making a snow angel.

“It’s so beautiful!” she cried, standing up and dusting herself off. She tilted her head back, the hood of her cloak falling back to expose her flaming red hair. “Look at how blue the sky is! Not a cloud up there!”

“Harry!” Ms. Granger called, coming toward them at a run, Mr. Weasley close behind her. She seemed to freeze when she noticed Severus standing there, smirking at her evilly.

“Leave her alone, Father,” Harry muttered with a smile, waving his friends over.

Severus decided to turn his attention back to the overenthusiastic Irish woman, who was now marveling at the color of the lake. She noticed Harry’s friends and came over. “Hiya!” she said happily, brushing her hair back.

“Oh, hello,” Ms. Granger said uncertainly.

“Hermione, Ron,” Harry said, “this is Arêthüsa Bennet. Airy, this is Ron and Hermione, my two best friends in the world.”

“Oh, this is your mum’s friend?” Ms. Granger asked, her eyes lighting up as she offered her hand.

“Tell them about me, did ya?” Airy asked with a chuckled. “Don’t believe anythin’ he says. I’m not all bad.”

“Hey, she does talk like she’s auditioning to be an auctioneer,” Mr. Weasley commented. Ms. Granger smacked him forcefully. “Ow!” he cried, rubbing his arm.

Severus had to forcefully keep himself from rolling his eyes.

“Said that, did ya?” Airy said, turning an amused look on a very red Harry Potter.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Ah, don’ worry about it,” Airy waved it off. “I get that all the time. Talk faster than most people think, so I do. I try not to talk so fast, but it just comes out that way. You wouldn’t believe how much I got the mickey in school for it. Arêthüsa motor-mouth; that was me.”

Ms. Granger looked torn between amusement at Airy’s fast-talking and disapproval at how she was treated in school. Severus marveled at how the girl could have two so very different emotions showing on her face at the same time. “That was really wrong of them!” she exclaimed.

Airy just laughed. “Ah, I didn’t mind it,” she said. “I know I talk fast.”

“Lighten up, Hermione,” Mr. Weasley said. He turned his gaze back to Airy. “You could be a Weasley with that hair.”

Airy laughed long and loud, wrapping her arm around an uncomfortable Ronald Weasley, who turned bright red. “That I could!” Airy exclaimed happily. “I’d fit right in with you lot!”

Mr. Weasley turned pleading eyes on Harry.

Harry put his hands up. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I can’t control her.”

Even Ms. Granger was giggling now.

Airy turned a bit and spotted Hagrid’s dog Fang bounding out of the forest.

“A dog!” she cried, releasing Mr. Weasley’s shoulders and running toward Fang. Fang jumped up to meet her as soon as she was close enough. She fell back to the ground and wrestled around with Fang. “What a good doggie! Yes yeh are, yer a good doggie.” She scratched vigorously behind Fang’s ears.

“All right’, Airy?” Hagrid asked with a smile, appearing from the trees.

“Hagrid!” Airy greeted. “I love yer dog! I’m stealing him away from yeh!”

“Take him,” Hagrid said. “He’s useless anyway.”

“Oh, you hear that, doggie?” Airy said. “You want a new mummy?”

Severus actually did roll his eyes that time.

“His name’s Fang,” Hagrid supplied.

“Fang?” Airy asked. “What kind of name is that fer such a good doggie?” She turned her attention back to the dog in question. “Who’s a good doggie? Yer a good doggie, en’t ya? Yes ya are!”

Harry started laughing, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

“What?” Airy asked as Harry’s friends joined in his mirth.

Harry just shook his head, trying to get hold of his humor.

Airy stood up, dusting off her bottom with one hand and continuing to pet Fang with the other. “So I like dogs,” she said. “There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

“So yeh all know each other, then?” Hagrid asked, placing his crossbow by the door to his hut.

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “How are you, Hagrid? How’s Grawp?”

“Oh, he’s fine, Harry,” Hagrid said, looking at Severus nervously. “Just a bit lonely, yeh know? It’s hard ter find him a girlfriend. I’m comin’ along though. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Oh,” Harry said, his brow creasing a bit.

“Er, that’s nice, Hagrid,” Ms. Granger said, her face taking on the same concerned expression.

Severus found himself wondering just who Grawp was and why the thought of him having a girlfriend would make these children so nervous.

“Don’t you all start worryin’ yer heads about Grawp,” Hagrid chastised, patting Harry on the shoulder so forcefully his knees buckled a little bit. “He’s my responsibility and I’m takin’ good care o’ him.”

“Who’s Grawp?” Airy asked with interest.

Hagrid seemed to get a tad nervous again. “Oh, he’s just a friend o’ mine,” he said. “Not very bright, though, needs lookin’ after.”

Airy nodded. “I understand that, Hagrid,” she said. “Why, one time I met this woman—“

“Is this going to be one of your drawn out ramblings?” Severus interrupted. “Because if so, I’d rather pass.”

Airy stuck her tongue out at him. “Yer just no fun anymore, Severus.”

“I never claimed to be.”

“How long are you here, Arêthüsa?” Harry asked.

“As long as I like, Harry!” Airy replied. “I’ve got…” she looked up at the sun, “twenty hours left I’d say.”

“Why do you only have twenty hours?” Ms. Granger asked.

Airy’s head snapped around to look at her. “I’ve got meetin’s an’ such,” she said.

Ms. Granger was looking at Airy shrewdly, as if she was trying to figure something out, which, Severus reminded himself, she probably was. He walked to Airy’s side and began leading her back to the school.

“Never say anything in front of Hermione Granger if you’ve got a secret,” he muttered in Airy’s ear. “She’s the smartest witch this school has seen in years.”

“I’d better watch meself, then,” Airy commented, looking over her shoulder at the bushy haired teen.

“Indeed,” Severus agreed, putting a bit more distance between them. “Will you be staying about during lunch?”

“I thought I’d sit with Harry and his friends,” Airy replied.

“Do you want Ms. Granger to figure you out? Go to the library or something while they eat.”

“So skipping lunch all together is less obvious than being in the same place and not eating?”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is feasible that you could have food with you elsewhere while you do your research. They couldn’t prove that you didn’t eat anything.”

Airy pulled a flask from inside her cloak and took a long swig, her eyes on Severus as she did so. After putting the flask back on her hip, she spoke. “All righ’, Severus. I’ll just go and hide in yer rooms until their done eating.”

Severus nodded. “I know you don’t want to, and I’m sorry for the necessity, but surely you understand why it must be done.”

Airy nodded. “I know. She’s the one then, is she? Who figured out Lupin in 93?”

Severus chuckled. “Yes, she’s the one.”

Airy nodded again, heading for the stairs. “I’ll see you after lunch, then,” she said.

Severus waved a bit before entering the Great Hall, Harry and his friends behind him.

“Hey, why isn’t she staying with us for lunch?” Harry asked.

“She has some research to do,” Severus replied. “She’s going to use some of my books and eat while she works. She wasted all of her research time playing around in the snow like a toddler.”

Harry chuckled. “Okay,” he said. He and his friends took their seats and began chatting amicably, presumably about Arêthüsa Bennet and her oddness. Severus wished he could say she was strange because of her condition, but he’d be lying. She’d always been a strange one.

THREE

Harry was glaring at his father angrily. He was on another ‘Draco Malfoy isn’t good enough for you’ kick, and he just wouldn’t let up. Harry didn’t want to hear Father’s unreasonable yelling anymore.

“You don’t know anything about him!” he yelled, clenching his fists in his lap. “You don’t have any right to say those things!”

“I don’t need to know him!” Father yelled back, standing up from behind his desk and hitting his hands upon the top. “I know that he’s going to be the death of you! You care entirely too much about that boy! I’m telling you that he does not feel the same! He cannot!”

Harry stood up too, hitting the desktop with a closed fist. “Why not!” he demanded. “Am I not good enough? Or is it that I’m too good for anyone? Will you ever be happy with anyone I choose?”

“What in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” Father screamed, throwing his hands up. “I know damned—“

“Severus!” Arêthüsa snapped, coming out of the other room where she had been waiting. “I need a word with you!”

“Not now, Airy,” Father groused, grinding his teeth together.

“Right now!” Airy snapped, holding the door opened behind her.

Father let his breath out in a rush. “You stay here!” he said, pointing at Harry. He stormed passed Airy, glaring at her angrily. She closed the door with a snap.

“Yer the most insensitive jerk I’ve ever met!” she yelled, the door not doing much to drown out her voice.

“How dare you criticize the way I raise my son!” Father yelled right back.

“Ya canna treat him like a baby! He’s grown! Yer job is to protect him and guide him, not issue demands! He’s never gonna accept you if yeh keep on like this!”

It became very quiet behind the door, so Harry moved around the desk and pressed his ear against the wood to listen.

“I don’t believe he’ll ever accept me,” Father muttered, sounding suddenly defeated and tired. “I don’t know how to be a father.”

Someone sighed heavily. “Yeh have to give him time, so ya do,” Airy said gently. “This is very delicate, yeh know. Yeh can’t just say ‘I’m yer da’ and expect him to be okay with that. Yeh have to show him that yeh care.”

“I’m trying, Airy,” Father said. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Why are yeh so against Draco?” Airy asked. “Kids have to make their own mistakes, so they do. They canna learn if yeh don’t let them make some mistakes.”

“I don’t want him to end up like me,” Father replied. “Draco will most probably betray him. I don’t want him to lose his faith in humanity the way I have. I don’t want him to become bitter and alone.”

“I know that, Severus, but he’s not you. He handles things differently than you do. He’s more his mother’s son; he inherited her trust in people.”

Father gave a very shaky sigh. “I know. I’ve noticed that, but I’m so afraid for him. I just… I love him so much. I’d die if anything happened to him.”

Harry’s eyes grew very wide at that and he retreated back to the desk, falling into his seat gracelessly. He leaned his elbow on the desk, placing his hand over his mouth, thinking. ‘He loves me. He really, truly looks at me as his son. I thought he was just making an effort. I thought he viewed me more as a favorite nephew. He’s… my father. My father loves me. I have a father who loves me!’ His heart swelled with a feeling of such happiness that he completely forgot their previous argument. That feeling was so overpowering that tears came to his eyes. He tried to hold them back, but could not. He began sobbing, resting his head on his arms on the desk, crying with happiness at the knowledge that he had a father who loved him for who he was, in spite of their terrible history together.

The door opened, admitting Father and Airy, who both froze when they saw Harry weeping.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Father asked urgently, coming around the desk and placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Harry launched himself into his father’s arms, hugging him tightly. “What is it, Harry?” Father asked again, squeezing him protectively.

“Nothing,” Harry said, a smile gracing his face even as the tears continued to fall. “I’ve never been so happy.”

Father pulled back to look at Harry and his eyes widened with surprise. Harry felt somewhat concerned at the expression. “What’s the matter?” he asked, frowning. He turned to look at Airy only to find the same expression on her face. His glasses were streaked, making his vision fuzzy, so he took them off, surprised when the world came clear. “What?” he asked again.

Airy held out her wand. “Accio hand mirror!” she cried. A small mirror came zooming out of Father’s bathroom and landed neatly in her hand. She passed this to Harry.

Harry frowned at her once more before lifting the mirror and looking into it. His eyes widened at what he saw. His eyes, still brilliantly green, were surrounded by a face he didn’t recognize; his cheekbones were higher and more defined than they had been, taking away the boyish roundness he was so used to. His lips were thinner and longer, but not as thin as Father’s, his hair was laying flat on his head and there was a large red patch over his right temple. He brought his hand up to touch his new face, only to become distracted by his fingers, which were longer and more elegant than before. He dropped his hands to his lap, staring at the two adults with wide eyes.

Father was smiling widely. He brought his hands up and began touching Harry’s face all over. “He’s beautiful,” he murmured, tears coming to his eyes but not spilling over. “He’s so perfect! He still has Lily’s nose and eyes.” His hand ran through Harry’s hair. “He has a birthmark, look!” he exclaimed, running his fingers over the red patch of hair over Harry’s temple.

His hands went down to pick up Harry’s hands. He held Harry’s hand gently, manipulating the joints. “He has my hands,” he whispered. “Airy, look, he has my hands!”

“So he does, Severus,” Airy replied, a soft smile gracing her lips.

Father continued to touch Harry as though memorizing him, acting like a man who had just watched his child being born. “He has my mother’s cheeks,” he said, moving his hand back to Harry’s face. “And my brow.” He ran a finger over Harry’s eyebrow.

Harry smiled tentatively at his father.

“This is my son,” Father whispered, cupping Harry’s face, apparently done with his memorization. “This is my son!” He pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug, which Harry returned happily.

“Well, this is a lovely development, I must say,” Airy commented.

Father began laughing, a truly happy sound that made Harry’s heart swell with happiness again. “Yes, it is!” Father agreed, still laughing and hugging Harry close.

Harry pulled back out of the hug, biting his lip nervously.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” Father asked, looking somewhat unsure of himself.

“I think I need a new name,” Harry replied.

Father’s eyes widened. “Why?” he asked.

“Well, I look different, don’t I?” Harry said. “Besides, Harry James Snape just sounds stupid.”

Father chuckled. “What do you wish to be called?” he asked.

“I thought you could decide, since you’re my dad and all,” Harry replied. From the corner of his eye he saw Airy beaming at the two of them.

Father cupped his face again, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. He thought for a moment then said, “What about Octavian?”

“I like that,” Harry agreed.

“He needs a middle name, Severus,” Airy informed them.

Father smiled. “Septimus,” he said. “Octavian Septimus Snape.”

Harry smiled brightly. “That’s a good name.”

Airy cleared her throat gently causing both men to look at her. “Not to ruin the moment,” she said, “but this presents a bit of a problem.”

“What problem?” Father asked, pulling Harry close.

“Well, he can’t very well go back out to school lookin’ like that, can he?” Airy replied.

Harry frowned. She was right, of course.

Father looked crestfallen, but he didn’t disagree. “Yes, of course,” he muttered. “Well, transfiguration is your area, so I’ll just let you put him back for now.”

“It won’t be permanent, will it?” Harry asked nervously. He rather liked his new look.

Airy smiled kindly. “No, Harry,” she said. “Just until yeh finished school. Once yer out there in the world, yeh won’t need the glamour any more.”

Harry nodded. Airy pointed her wand at him, muttering under her breath. It felt as though a warm breeze was blowing across his skin. After a moment, it stopped and Harry picked up the hand mirror to find himself looking like he had before. He sighed.

Airy crossed the room, picked up his glasses, tapped her wand to them and handed them back to Harry. He put them on to find they didn’t affect his vision at all.

“Just plain glass now, Harry,” Airy informed him. “This way no one will be the wiser.”

Harry nodded. “I’d better go,” he said. He turned to his father. “I’ll see you tomorrow… Dad,” he said.

Father smiled. “Yes, tomorrow.” He hugged Harry tightly again before letting him go on his way.

FOUR

Draco had to admit that Harry’s romantic little hideaway was quite nice, despite the fact it was St. Valentine’s Day. He sat next to Harry on the blanket that had been spread out on the now mossy floor and looked up at the enchanted ceiling, which was a clear baby blue.

Harry was spreading out food from a basket he’d gotten from Dobby. Draco noticed that most of the foods were things he truly enjoyed eating, and found himself pleased with that thought. Harry wanted him to enjoy himself.

“This looks lovely,” he said, making himself comfortable.

“I’m glad you think so,” Harry replied with a small smile. He passed Draco a piece of steak and kidney pie on a paper plate. They ate their way through all of the delicious foods, chatting about nonsense and generally enjoying each other’s company.

“I’ve got a surprise for dessert,” Harry said, once the main dishes were gone.

“Oh?” Draco asked, secretly hoping dessert was Harry and not actual food.

Harry reached into the basket and pulled out a large dish of fresh strawberries and a bowl of melted chocolate. He picked up one of the berries, dipped it in the chocolate and brought it up to his mouth, letting the chocolate dribble onto his tongue. Draco stared with wide eyes as Harry began licking the chocolate from the berry before take a big, juicy bite. Either he didn’t know how sexy that was, or he was doing it just to torture Draco.

Harry reached into the bowl again. “Have a berry, Draco,” he said in a voice that suggested that he knew exactly how sexy it was. He dipped the second berry and reached across the space, rubbing the chocolate on Draco’s lips. Draco opened his mouth and sucked the chocolate from the berry, marveling at the flavor before eating the entire berry in one bite.

“Look at that,” Harry said, throwing the top away. “You’ve got chocolate on your face.” He leaned the rest of the way and began licking the chocolate from Draco’s chin. Draco could already feel the stirrings of arousal in his gut as Harry’s tongue laved at his skin. Once Harry had gotten all of the confection off of Draco’s skin, he moved that exploring tongue to Draco’s mouth, kissing him deeply.

Draco was most happy with this dessert. He leaned back until he was lying down, Harry spread on top of him, his hands tangled in Harry’s messy hair. Harry’s hands were rubbing Draco’s thighs, making burning trails wherever they touched. He reached up and began undoing Draco’s buttons, never breaking his slow kiss.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he pushed the offending fabric away from Draco’s flesh.

Draco reached up to begin work on Harry’s buttons, but Harry batted his hands away.

“Tut, tut,” he said. “No one said you could do that.” He held Draco’s hands down as he kissed his way down Draco’s torso, laving at the navel greedily.

Harry reached back, picked up the bowl of chocolate, sat up until he was straddling Draco and began pouring the chocolate on his chest. “Dear me,” he purred. “I’ve spilled the chocolate. I’d better clean it up.” He bent forward and began licking the chocolate off of Draco’s skin. Draco arched up into that wicked mouth, loving the feel of Harry’s tongue as it licked the sticky chocolate from him.

“Harry,” he gasped, trying again to reach Harry’s clothes. Harry allowed it this time, which made Draco inordinately happy as he began to expose the pale flesh beneath. “Naughty,” he murmured when he discovered that Harry was nude beneath the school robe. He stretched up and began kissing the area where Harry’s neck met his shoulders.

“Mmm, Draco,” Harry said, rubbing his considerable erection against Draco’s bare stomach. He bent close until his mouth was next to Draco’s ear. “I want to be inside of you,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing Draco’s earlobe pleasurably. “I want to be surrounded by your tight heat when I come.”

Draco growled as he arched up into Harry, craving that touch. “Yes, Harry,” he said. “Touch me. Fill me. Take me. I need to feel you.” He kissed around Harry’s ears, and down his neck, running his hands over every bit of skin he could reach.

Harry reached back again, into the basket this time, and produced a bottle of oil. He sat up again and dribbled a healthy amount of it onto Draco’s chest. Setting the bottle aside, he began a sensual massage, pressing firmly on Draco’s pecks and arms until the blonde was a quivering mess beneath him. Harry proceeded to massage down Draco’s body until he reached his pelvis, where he took Draco’s erection in hand and began pumping very slowly, his other hand giving the same treatment to Draco’s sac.

Draco whimpered at the feel of it, bucking his hips into Harry’s talented hand, mewling incoherently in his attempts to make Harry do more.

“Spirits above, Harry!” Draco panted, running his hands up Harry’s chest. “I need more! Please! Take me now! Please!”

Harry chuckled lightly, his fingers running below Draco’s sac to his opening. He bent forward as he rubbed the tight ring of muscles. “Patience, my darling,” he whispered. “I’m going to make this last.” As he said the last, he gently pushed a finger inside, swirling it around until he hit that wonderful pleasure spot.

“Yes!” Draco cried, pushing down on the digit “Yes, yes, yes,” he panted as a second and third finger was added. The hand that had been pumping his sex disappeared, making him whimper again. As the fingers inside of him were removed, he felt Harry positioning himself for penetration.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, placing both hands on Draco’s chest.

“Merlin, yes!” Draco replied, attempting to impale himself on Harry’s cock.

Harry obliged him and pushed in very slowly, sucking his breath in through his teeth until he was fully sheathed. He remained very still, panting harshly as he gently lowered part of his weight onto his pale lover. He felt different inside of Draco, wider somehow, and longer. Draco figured he was just super sensitized from Harry’s wonderful massage and so didn’t pay it much mind.

After what seemed forever, he began thrusting slowly and deeply, running over Draco’s prostate on every third push. Harry began kissing Draco’s neck, sucking gently on the sensitive places he found, one of his hands rubbing up and down on Draco’s thigh. “You feel so good,” he murmured, licking the shell of Draco’s ear.

“Faster, Harry,” Draco said. “Please move faster.”

“Not yet, Draco,” Harry replied, keeping his slow pace.

Draco moved with Harry, attempting to push Harry’s sex as deep inside as possible as he pulled his knees up to his chest. He felt stretched beyond imagining, that wonderful fullness making him feel content. Finally, after what felt like hours to Draco, Harry began moving faster, passing over Draco’s prostate more often. Harry leaned up for more leverage and Draco took advantage of the space to begin stroking himself.

“God, that is so hot,” Harry gasped, watching Draco’s hand hungrily. He moved faster still, pulling Draco’s legs over his shoulders and running his hands down them lovingly.

“Spirits! Don’t stop, Harry! Please don’t stop!”

Harry continued thrusting, more rapidly than before, hitting Draco’s pleasure spot with every push now. “Come for me, Draco,” he muttered.

Draco felt a tight knot coiling in his stomach, sending him into incoherent screaming as his orgasm rocketed through him, the pleasure of it tingling all the way down to his toes as his seed shot out over his stomach and chest.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed as his thrusts became erratic inside Draco’s pulsating body. “Yes!” he whispered. “God yes!” His hips jerked and Draco felt his hot come spilling deep inside.

“Yes, Harry,” he muttered, feeling completely sated as Harry’s jerking slowly came to a halt. Harry collapsed on top of him, running a hand through his platinum locks. He kissed Draco all over his face before rolling off to lie next to him.

“That was amazing,” Draco said as Harry’s head came to rest on his chest.

“Isn’t it always?” Harry replied, rubbing gently between Draco’s nipples.

“Always,” Draco agreed, pulling Harry’s body closer. ‘Maybe St. Valentine’s Day has its good spots after all,’ he thought with a smile as he drifted off to sleep.

FIVE

Draco stretched languidly in his bed, looking forward to seeing Harry at breakfast, even if he couldn’t be near him. He wanted to see that beautiful smile when Harry entered the Great Hall with his friends. He got out of bed, went to his trunk and took out his Seeing Ball, sitting on the edge of his bed with the Ball held gingerly in his hands.

“Show me Harry James Potter,” he told it. The green mist swirled quickly inside it until a window seemed to open inside. Harry, incredibly, was still sleeping. Draco chuckled at the sight. Suddenly, two hands appeared from out of the Ball’s periphery, shaking Harry vigorously.

“Harry, mate, wake up!” Weasley’s voice said loudly. “Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty!”

Harry batted the offending hands away. “’M sleepy,” he mumbled, turning over.

“No doing, mate!” Weasley said, shaking his friend again. “Hogsmeade weekend today! Come on, get up and come to breakfast so we can go!”

Harry rolled onto his back, opened his eyes and glared at Weasley. “Fine, I’m up,” he muttered. “Can I at least have a shower before I head to breakfast?”

Weasley chuckled. “Sure, just hurry up. I want to get to Honeyduke’s before they run out of the good stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, throwing the blankets off and rubbing his eyes. “I’m coming.”

“Enough,” Draco said, placing the Ball back in its drawer in his desk. He chuckled at Harry’s antics as he dressed and headed to the Great Hall for his own breakfast. He’d just spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate when the doors opened and Harry walked in. He smiled briefly in Draco’s direction before heading to the Gryffindor table to join his friends.

Draco bent to his meal to hide his smile. He glanced up through his fringe just as Professor Fitzpatrick tripped on his own robes and fell across Harry and Weasley. Many students chuckled as the professor straightened up, his face turning a most unflattering shade of red, and straightened Harry’s robes.

“So sorry, Potter,” he said, causing the students to start laughing again. He moved to the head table with his head down. Draco watched him with a furrowed brow. Professor Fitzpatrick was an odd man, with mousy brown hair, freckles across his nose, hazel colored eyes, and barely any body weight. The man was practically a wraith he was so thin. He looked like a good stiff wind would knock him over. His head snapped back to the Gryffindor table when he heard a blood-curdling scream.

“Harry!” Granger cried, jumping up just as Harry fell over backwards off of the bench seat. Harry began writhing on the floor, screaming in what sounded like extreme agony. He was clutching his stomach as he rolled around on the floor, his head thrown back as he screamed.

Draco jumped to his feet just as Snape launched himself from the head table toward where Harry lay. Just as Snape reached him, Harry began smoking as though he were on fire, his screams doubling ten fold.

Snape whipped off his outer robe without thinking and threw it over Harry’s body, effectively hiding him from view. He lifted the boy seemingly without effort and left the Great Hall at a run, Weasley and Granger right behind him.

Draco waited a moment before leaving the Hall himself, heading toward his room. Once there, he got out his Seeing Ball.

“Show me Harry James Potter,” he said anxiously. The mist swirled about quickly before forming words. Harry Potter is in a secured location, it informed him. Draco cursed fluently, nearly throwing the Ball across the room before calming down enough to put it away. He was scared to death. He didn’t know what to do with himself and so began pacing. The day wore on endlessly until it was finally time for dinner. He went to the Great Hall, hoping for some kind of news about what had happened to Harry.

The Hall was nearly silent as Dumbledore rose to his feet, tapping his glass unnecessarily to gain the students’ attention. “Harry Potter was the unfortunate victim of an attack this morning at breakfast,” he said, his voice sounding more dangerous than molten steel. “We are working now to discover the culprit. Know that whoever is responsible for this will be expelled from Hogwarts and held in Ministry custody until a trial can be held. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Mr. Potter did not survive this attack.”

Draco’s world froze. He heard Granger screaming, but it sounded as though she was miles away. He heard the sudden uproar around him, but hardly noticed it. Harry couldn’t be dead; he just couldn’t be.

“The memorial service will be held on Monday, out near the lake,” Dumbledore said gently as the sound levels went down in the Hall. Draco scanned the head table only to find that Snape wasn’t there. He rocketed out of his seat, and before anyone could stop him, was on his way to Snape’s quarters. He pounded on the doors until they opened, but instead of waiting for someone to invite him in, he just rocketed forward again. He found himself being held tightly from behind.

“I want to see him!” he screamed, fighting the tight grip. “Let me go! I want to see him! I WANT TO SEE HIM! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

“Draco, calm down,” Snape said gently behind him. “You can’t see him. He’s gone, there’s nothing you can do for him now.”

Draco abruptly stopped fighting. “I want to see him,” he whispered.

“You can’t see him, Draco,” Snape said. His voice sounded strangely roughened, as though he’d spent a great deal of time screaming… or crying.

“Why not?” Draco asked.

“He was burned very badly by whatever potion that was,” Snape said. “You don’t want to see him that way. Just try to remember him the way he was. You don’t want to see him that way.” His voice got steadily softer as he spoke until it was barely above a whisper.

Draco’s body felt numb. There was a strange buzzing in his ears as Snape finally released him. He stood perfectly still for a long moment before heading toward the door. “Good night, sir,” he said automatically. He made his way to his dorm, where he collapsed onto his bed and cried until he passed out from exhaustion. His life was over… over.

Author’s Note: Don’t kill me. I promise to make it better.