Whatever May Come

The next few days passed with little event. Ron was eyeing Harry the next morning for his strange pacing before he sat at the breakfast table, but Harry was reassured by Draco taking his hand under the table. Still Draco didn't seem particularly interested in flaunting their relationship, but he wasn't working so hard to hide it either. Everyone knew already, so there seemed little point in even attempting to keep it a secret.

To Harry's surprise, Draco didn't ask to repeat what they'd done, instead settling back to their groping, frotting, handjobs and blowjobs rather than sex. He wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing. It wasn't as if he could do it immediately again anyway, perhaps Draco knew that. What kept Harry from asking was his fear that he wasn't any good at it. Maybe Draco hated it.

He was quite surprised then when he came into their room after a late game of Wizards chess with Ron to find Draco naked lying face-down on the bed with the tube of lubricant sitting out on the night stand.

Harry dropped the book he was carrying. "Um..."

Draco peered over his shoulder as he pulled his knees under him. "Just... well... if you know how to do it now, then... maybe it won't... I just thought we could try?" He shifted his weight from one knee to the other, uncertain as a skittish colt.

Rushing to the bed, Harry didn't want to miss this opportunity, although it took his breath away. After the wrenching feeling of self-doubt over the physical part of their relationship, this was such a huge affirmation. His hands shook as he traced his chilly fingers over Draco's back. Gently pushing him over, Harry turned him around to lying on his back. "Are you sure? It hurt last time... I don't want to--"

"I know you don't want to hurt me. That's why... well, you seemed to like it all right and... you wouldn't hurt me on purpose." Draco took Harry's hand and breathed over it, trying to warm it. He pulled his fingers into his mouth, licking them sensually, but Draco couldn't quite make eye contact.

It made Harry uneasy. "I wouldn't hurt you, but it does hurt. We can wait." Allowing Draco to continue suckling his fingers, he slid his other hand through Draco's hair.

Draco closed his eyes and nuzzled into the touch. He pulled Harry's hand from his mouth and using both of his hands, pushed it down to his cock. After stroking himself with Harry's hand a few times, he grabbed the lubricant and pressed it to Harry's palm.

There was no mistaking that signal, and Harry wasn't sure he had the fortitude to keep turning Draco down; not when filled with the brief memory of the hot tightness that surrounded him. He rationalized that Draco had managed to make it feel good-- good enough that it had forced him to orgasm the second time.

Harry dropped the cap three times while trying to screw it back on after squeezing most of the contents of the tube onto his fingers. He didn't want it to hurt. Perhaps he was going overboard, but by now his hands were shaking and Draco had wrapped both arms over his face. "We really don't have to..."

"Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be brave? Just do it," Draco grumbled, muffled by his arms.

Exhaling, Harry nodded even though Draco wouldn't see. He tossed the tube aside and slathered the white cream over his index and middle fingers. Curve forward. Draco brought his knees up and then opened his legs, splaying open for Harry, hot pink prick, hard against his pale belly and fuzzy scrotum over the dusty pink opening. As hard as Draco was breathing, Harry was inhaling just as hard. What if he hurt him again? Would Draco run screaming from the room? Would that be the end?

He slid his slick index finger around Draco's opening. That elicited a soft whimper, so he continued to caress him, spreading the cream lazily around him. Stretching out over Draco's body, he kissed the arms over Draco's face until they parted. Harry kissed his face softly, down his elegant nose, over his thin brows and to the corner of his plush lips. Harry dragged his tongue over Draco's bottom lip as he finally breached him, index finger sliding in up to his second knuckle before Draco gasped and Harry stopped.

"Are you all right?" Harry kissed over Draco's damp forehead.

Draco nodded and exhaled slowly as Harry started to remove his finger. "Don't stop."

Nodding, Harry teased Draco's opening again before sliding his finger into him again, this time it got the rest of the way in as Harry kissed over his face. He curled his finger forward, groping around for that spot, watching Draco's face.

His expression waxed and waned between discomfort and confusion, as if he were trying to figure out what would feel good. Harry kissed down Draco's blotched and glistening chest, tasting the saline of his sweat. He settled in between his legs as he continued to try to find the elusive spot.

Harry tried to remember that Draco mucked around looking for it a while before he found it, and tried not to be discouraged. Rather than watch the strange expressions on Draco's face, he decided to tease the flat of his tongue over Draco's shaft, sliding his hair over his belly as he went. His reward was Draco's moan. He curled his finger forward a bit more and that's when he felt it; something bone hard, but also the jolt of Draco's hips.

At first Draco seemed to be trying to dodge it a bit, so Harry moved his finger with less force, gently brushing the spot. This was the right action, as soon Draco was cooing and rocking his prick against Harry's cheek as he moved in time to Harry's stroking.

Nuzzling Draco's prick, Harry squeezed a second finger inside of him, twisting his wrist a bit to move past the ring of muscles so that he could again assault that spot inside of him. Draco's cock softened slightly at first, but with the pressure applied inside of him and the gentle sucking of his balls, he hardened again.

He was doing it. He was finger fucking Draco, and Draco wasn't screaming or sobbing. His face was bright red and contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain, but he was also clutching the sheets and begging for more. Pulling the head of Draco's cock into his mouth, Harry tried for a third finger.

Draco grunted at first, and it was nearly impossible to push inside. Harry waited, stroking the opening, patient as Draco relaxed. He nuzzled and kissed Draco's shaft and then squeezed in with a smooth push of his hand. Curling his fingers forward, he teased Draco again, filling him as he lapped at his wet cock.

Hands twisted in his hair, roughly pushing him against Draco's cock and Harry opened his mouth to take it in. Draco's wet abdomen dampened his forehead as he listened to Draco's whining breaths. While fighting against Draco's erratic movements, he hadn't quite gotten his mouth around Draco when he felt a warm fluid hit his chin and the corner of his mouth.

He stretched out his tongue to catch as much of it as he could, wanting to taste him, or taste more of him. "Do it," Draco gasped, still coming against Harry's neck as he yanked him up by his hair.

Harry pulled his fingers out of him and grabbed his cock to guide it into Draco as he balanced with his forearm next to Draco's head. He slid in smoothly, Draco's face went a brighter shade of red than he'd ever seen and his neck muscles tightened. "Breathe. Push against me," Harry instructed.

Draco's nails dug into his lower back, holding Harry there as he panted, head thrown back and hair askew on the pillows and matted to his cheeks. He pulled his hips back and pushed down again, sliding Harry in and out of him with nearly agonizing slowness. Harry hissed through his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to come yet, but the feeling was so smooth, warm and tight around him, it made him lightheaded with want.

Again Draco had pulled back and slid onto Harry's cock. He squeezed him tightly against his body and was lapping the come from his chin and neck. Harry fisted one hand in the pillow over Draco's head, grabbing hair as well as linen. The other remained pressed into the mattress for leverage as he worked with Draco's movements, sliding in and out of him a few more times before the sensation overwhelmed him and he could hold out no more.

He gasped and bit his bottom lip as he felt the wave of release shudder through his body, pushing out in hard pulses that threatened to shut him down completely each time. When the final burst of energy fled him, he collapsed against Draco in a sweaty wet mess.

"I love you."

"Shut up, Potter."

In spite of Draco's choice of words that might have, for a lesser boy, been upsetting, Harry heard the tone behind them. Besides, if Draco didn't love him, then Voldemort would still be alive. "You're a right git, you know that, don't you?"

"Did you just figure that out?" Draco cupped Harry's face in his hands and raised his head to look into his eyes. "Seriously, shut up."

Harry grinned and nipped the tip of Draco's nose. "Are you still talking?"

Draco shut his eyes as Harry rolled off of him. He wiggled around till he made himself comfortable with his cheek on Harry's chest, kissing it before he settled in-- and didn't speak another word.

--

"What do you want from me?" Draco's shriek sent Harry flying down the stairs to the kitchen, but Snape's drawl stopped him dead in his tracks just before passing the threshold of the doorway.

"I don't want anything from you, Draco. I am simply offering you someplace to stay for a few days should you want it." There was a pause and Harry's gut twisted at the sound of Draco's choking sob. "I know this news is hard to take. It happened very quickly. I thought you might wish to spend time with familiar faces."

Harry had no idea what news would be hard to take. He crept closer and peered around the door frame. Draco was on his knees in front of the fire, Snape looked imperious in emerald flame, keeping a stiff upper lip before the boy breaking down in front of him.

"I want to see my mum, not you," he said with a savagery that Harry wouldn't have expected given his emotional state.

"She doesn't wish to see you right now." Snape's voice was steely with its implied sneer; Harry wondered how anyone could be so cold.

Draco tossed his head back, throwing his hair from his twisted face shining with tears. His chin rose proudly. "I don't wish to see you. Ever again."

Snape's eyes narrowed and Harry watched in horror as his hand shot out from the flame and smacked Draco across the face. Draco turned his head with the blow, his eyes closed in anticipation of it, leaving Harry to wonder how it was that Draco Malfoy knew how to take a slap like that. "You wretched, little.... You owe me everything. You owe me your life. Were it not for me...."

On his feet faster than Harry could cross to him, Draco glared down at Snape. "What? What do I owe you?"

"Everything. I kept you alive. I kept you hidden," Snape seethed.

Harry was about to speak, but his voice was cut off with the transformation of Draco in trousers to Draco in a short black dress puffed out with the many layered ruffles of a petticoat, the purple feather duster hooked into the ribbon of his apron. How he'd missed those long, pale legs in the crisscross of the fishnets. He was ashamed of how quickly his body reacted to it, especially since he'd sworn to himself that Draco would never have to suffer the humiliation of being feminized like this again.

"This is what you kept hidden. This is how you kept me," Draco hissed. "This is what you want. It was never about me, it was only ever about your sick need to control, to dominate. It was... what everything's ever been about, wasn't it? It was about my father... and now he's dead, so let it go."

"Oh Draco," Harry whispered. He didn't care that Snape was there, he didn't even care at how hard Draco was slapping at him to let him go. He held him, sliding his fingers through his hair to soothe him until Draco was nothing but a shuddering weight against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Potter, this doesn't concern you."

His glasses had dropped off during the short battle to hold Draco, and Snape was an angry, green blur, but he could make out the stereotypic arms folded across his chest and the cold glare. It took all of his will not to hex Snape into oblivion. Killing was wrong and it was hard, but he felt the wish to see Snape's blood overpowering his morality. Which was why it took him a moment to realize that the red beam of light that hit Snape square in the chest hadn't come from him in a fit of spontaneous magic.

The clatter of Draco's wand to the floor drew his attention from self-doubt and he stared into those bloodshot eyes as he wiped away his tears. At first, Draco's expression was afraid, then hard with anger, finally it melted into something more impish, something that demanded revenge. He pressed the feather duster into Harry's hand and dragging him by his shoulders, sat Harry into a chair by the fire.

Harry sat down in wonder as he watched Draco shimmying out of his pettipanties, leaving him in the belt and stockings with yards of frilly petticoat just above where the reddish head of his prick poked out. Draco straddled him, undoing his trousers as he kissed him fiercely, as much for show as need.

He had just enough time and thought to summon the tube of lubricant as Draco situated himself on Harry's lap, arse bare but framed by white starchy fabric. "With the duster," Draco whispered. One elegant hand was on the corner of the stone fireplace, his face was bare inches from Snape's, but Snape couldn't move an inch. He stood there in the shocked stoicism of someone who had been stupefied. "Is this what you wanted, you sick fuck?"

It took Harry a moment to snap out of it and react. Draco put one heeled shoe on the floor, the other hooked under Harry's arm. He slid his hand over Draco's pale arse, shoving the fabric over his back. His cock stuck up between Draco's thighs, rigid and proud and wanting nothing more than to repeat what they'd done a few nights before. He was sure Draco would let him, that it was part of the plan, but first things first, the feature presentation; the feather duster.

He greased it up, slathering the black handle with the white cream. He held it up for Snape's unblinking eyes and then teased it between Draco's cheeks. Draco spread his legs further, making quite a show of moaning and rubbing against the flat, cool plastic. Harry sat back against the cushions, both for a better view and to rut his cock against Draco's thigh. Using his free hand, he grabbed Draco's arse cheek and held the feather duster up, the purple feathers in front of his face and slowly pushed it through the ring of muscles.

Draco gasped and his head fell forward as Harry twisted the handle, working it into him, skin stretching and sucking around the thin black unyielding material. He pulled it back out in slow wonder, watching how the skin turned itself inside out to hold onto the handle for just a fraction of a second more. Before pulling it all the way out, Harry pushed it in again grabbing it firmly with his fist as he angled the feathers up so that he could hit Draco's prostate.

Stirring it around till Draco was whining in pain or pleasure, he felt Draco's body tighten when he stroked an off-angle area. Experimentally, he nudged it again and Draco gave a sincere yowl of pleasure. Harry pumped the fisted duster right there, working it speedily up and down; the feathers jittering with the movement. Draco fucked against it, one hand looping under him to pull himself off. His hand still rested on the stone, but his head lolled down and his maid's hat fluttered to the floor as he lost himself to being fucked.

Harry was almost jealous of the feather duster, and of how much Draco seemed to love being fucked at all. It had been good when he'd bottomed, but he never abandoned everything in quite the way that Draco did. His body tingled with sweat and his muscles spasmed with the hard working of his hips. His arse cheeks clenched and Harry heard the hard gush of breath that came with Draco's release.

Throwing the feather duster into the fire at Snape, Harry pushed Draco onto all fours on the floor. His hands slipped on the come and he left his face pressed against the floor as Harry mounted him. Harry kicked the chair back so Snape could see this, see him pushing his prick into Draco, violating him, defiling him, taking him right in front of him.

He was beyond aroused, he was vengeful. He tried to keep mindful of Draco, but he needed this too much now. The bashfulness of being naked in front of Snape had long since passed, he proudly pushed Draco's arse open and pressed into him. Bodies connecting, sliding together, a piece that fits so wholly, so completely that Harry could hardly fathom the hell that was being outside of Draco's warmth. He threw his head back in ecstasy, his hands curling around Draco's hips as he pushed in and out of him. The metal from Draco's belt poked his thighs and the crinoline itched against his belly, but Draco was heaven. Harry opened his eyes and glared at Snape as he cried out, "Fuck yes, Draco... fuck."

He fell forward onto Draco knocking them both to the floor in front of the fire. The movement unsettling enough that it broke Draco's magic and Snape vanished from the fire and they were left with nothing but the smoldering embers.

At first Harry wasn't sure what he was hearing, muffled as it was with his ear pressed between Draco's shoulder blades. But the bark-like cadence and jiggling beneath him brought him to. Draco was giggling, and Harry joined in between kisses over the back of his neck.

--

As expected, Snape hadn't been entirely truthful about Narcissa's wishes regarding Draco. She'd wanted a couple of days to sort herself out before she saw him, and when she'd had them, she sent for him.

Draco delayed a day, perhaps in protest, but Harry preferred to think that he'd just wanted to spend more time with him. They snuggled and Draco made promises that Harry would never hold him to.

The next morning, Draco packed a bag and kissed Harry goodbye.

That was a month ago.

Hermione kept Harry and Ron busy with a breakneck schedule of revisions for NEWTS. She, as well as Remus, was convinced that with enough concentrated revising, they could pass the exams even without a full year of Hogwarts education. Harry had his doubts, but the hard work was keeping him from agonizing over the lack of owls from Draco.

He wouldn't think about it. Even if Draco were coming back, owling him could be dangerous depending on where he was. Every morning he would scan the Daily Prophet just to make sure that there were no announcements of a Malfoy slaughter. Only one Malfoy was dead, and while Harry was sympathetic to Draco because it was his father, he deserved to be murdered in prison. However, it further exposed how unsafe the Wizarding world still was in spite of the defeat of Voldemort.

Pushing that from his mind, Harry looked down at the graded Potions work Remus had just handed him. The sloping scrawl was familiar, and not because it was Remus's. He squinted at the page, willing it not to be Snape's. The very idea of Snape helping repulsed him. He glowered at Remus branding him a traitor.

"I realize that it's hard for you to take, but Severus is trying to make amends. To everyone," said Remus, patting Harry's shoulder.

"For murder or for trying to molest a student or just for being a stinking greasy git all of his life?" Harry didn't even look at the corrections, crumpling the parchment and throwing it to the bin instead.

Remus sighed and nodded and sat down next to him. "Harry..." he started, and then he looked at the fire. Harry blushed in remembrance of his revenge on Snape there. What if that's where Draco was? He couldn't imagine Snape being quite so magnanimous. Then again, if Draco was with him, then he would've certainly rubbed his face in it by now. What a bitter thing to take heart in.

"I don't expect you to understand. I'm not sure I would've understood before I was forced to run with Greyback in the line of duty. Being with those people... being amongst all of that evil and wrongness can twist a person, twist a mind even." Remus stared at his arthritic hands, stained with correction ink from his near-constant tutoring.

"Twist them into murdering his mentor?" Harry didn't wish to undercut Remus's point or his suffering, but whatever Remus might've done in the light of the moon wasn't murder. Or so he didn't think it was, but then, he didn't know. "Not even you thought he was on our side when he did that."

Shaking his head, Remus said, "He did what he had to do in the line of duty. It's... it's what broke him, Harry. He knew that sparing Draco was what Dumbledore wanted, but it didn't make the fact of what he had to do any easier. Nor did the fact that it took us a while to understand why he did what he did."

Hearing the guilt in Remus's voice made Harry ache with regret; not for his thoughts on Snape, but for expressing them to Remus. Snape could fuck right on off; there was no excuse for his behaviour, no matter how broken Remus thought he was. "Then he should have talked to some one, not tried to goad Draco to..." Harry couldn't even finish his thought, he trailed off and gestured, closing his eyes and wishing that he had Draco there to hold and reassure.

This time it was Harry who needed the reassuring.

Remus paled and turned his attention back to his notes. After a moment he responded, "I'm certain that he regrets the damage he's done to his relationship with Malfoy. He thought of him as a son..."

"That makes it worse."

"He became confused. There was a lot... I'm sure you don't know about with Lucius Malfoy and Severus. He lost track of... he needed..."

Harry stood his eyes fiery with agitation. "I don't want to hear any more excuses for what he did. It was wrong and evil and he... really hurt Draco. And let's not even start with how he treated me through school. He knew who I was, he knew how I'd grown up, but he couldn't let his rivalry with my father go enough to give me a chance."

"As I recall, you egged it on a bit," Remus said weakly, withdrawing from Harry's anger.

"I was eleven." Harry tried to master his anger; there was no point in shouting at Remus, even if it was curious as to why he was suddenly Snape's great defender. "Why are you defending him?"

"Because he's trying." Remus stood and pushed his chair under the table. "I thought you were the sort of man who respected people trying to better themselves."

Scoffing, Harry turned to the door, unable to meet Remus's intense stare. "Maybe I'm just trying to figure out what his angle is before he hurts someone I care about again."

Hearing Remus making his way across the kitchen, Harry took off up the stairs and slammed the door to his room. The room he'd once shared with Draco. He picked up the green silk dressing gown, the only thing Draco had left behind. He could barely smell the taint of the citrus of his soap anymore.

This was ridiculous, clinging to a left behind piece of clothing from a boy who probably couldn't care less how much he worried about him. In fact, he wagered that part of the reason he was so quiet and Snape was so interested in reconciliation was because Draco was with him. He was tempted to set the fabric on fire, but instead he threw it across the room and headed to the small writing desk in the corner.

Dear Draco Malfoy,

You left your dressing gown here. I'm sure Snape doesn't think you need it; he probably has other ways of keeping you warm.

I just want you to know that I don't care.

I hope you're happy.

Harry Potter

Hedwig squawked at him as he roughly attached the scroll to her leg. She nipped at his hand and gave him a fierce glare. At the time he thought it was because she was annoyed, but ten minutes after he'd practically threw her out of the window, he wondered if she was trying to stall him from sending such a hostile, stupid letter.

His stomach tightened as he realized how foolish and hysterical it sounded. He sat in the window seat in the drawing room, staring out at the darkening sky, willing Hedwig to have just circled 'round till he came to his senses. When she came back without his missive attached, his heart sank.

There was no response from Draco either. That was somehow worse. Harry closed his eyes and banged his temple against the window frame. Maybe Draco would send Bran with a note later. Or maybe he just didn't care at all and he'd never hear from him again. Bringing his knees to his chest, Harry buried his face against his knees and allowed himself to cry.

--

Harry woke up sore, his face still pressed to the cold window. His neck and back ached, but what really hurt was that there was still no response from Draco. He rubbed the back of his neck and scanned his lap for his glasses.

"You really are an idiot."

Starting at Draco's drawl, Harry rubbed his eyes and squinted at the blond blob on the divan. He scrambled for his glasses and shoved them on his face as he stood, or tried to. His leg was asleep and gave out under him, leaving him sprawled out on the floor. "Am not."

Draco rolled his eyes and stood, regal in black robes; his hair slicked back, not a hair out of place. He offered Harry his hand and helped him up. "Whatever you say."

First Harry wanted to kiss him, and then he wanted to slap him and ask him why he'd not even sent so much as an owl. This was it, though. The grand kiss off. Draco was even dressed like Snape, the perfect protégé. Harry wanted nothing more than to cry at that prospect. He kept a hold of Draco's hand. Draco couldn't tell him off if he was holding his hand. "How did you get here?"

"Magic."

Clearing his throat, Harry ignored the snark and decided to make his question more precise. "Why are you here?"

"I don't know, I think I decided to stop by because someone who was barking mad sent me a bizarre letter and signed your name to it." He perked a brow at Harry and squeezed his hand.

"Barking mad, hm? Maybe this person only went barking because he wasn't sure what else to think." Draco hadn't pulled away, he was staying close. Harry took heart in the position, reasoning that Draco didn't have it in him to try and let someone down gently.

Looking past Harry out the window behind him, Draco said, "That person doesn't know... how hard it is to break the news of... to tell a grieving woman that her son likes boys. One boy in particular. The one that put her husband in Azkaban."

Harry slipped his arms around Draco and held him close. "You should have owled. I would've understood."

"I couldn't." Draco burrowed his face against Harry's neck.

All of the tension from the anxiety of losing Draco left his body and he supported him. "She wouldn't let you send out owls?"

Draco exhaled in a half laugh. "She wasn't monitoring that, no." He sighed and held Harry tighter, "I just knew you'd be disappointed. You've told everyone and I...."

"So she still doesn't know?" Harry was a bit disappointed in Draco, but he understood how hard it would be to break that news to his mum.

"She knows now. I told her after I read your nutty note."

Frozen, Harry tried to brace for the worst. "And?"

"She laughed."

Harry unwrapped himself from Draco to look him in the eye. "Laughed? She thought you were kidding?"

Draco looked more annoyed than upset and stared at the ceiling. "No, she knew I was serious. She just thought it was funny that I waited that long to tell her. She thought we must've broken up since I didn't talk about you at all."

"She knew?" Harry gaped at him, blinking slowly.

"Molly Weasley told her, the old busybody." He folded his arms and looked indignant.

"What? When?"

"When they were all at St. Mungo's after Granger's accident."

Grabbing Draco by the waist, Harry pulled him close again, beaming. "So you can visit?"

"Mum says after NEWTS I can do whatever I wish. She hired some tutors for me and I've been revising like mad. I'm not sure I see the point in it. The only good NEWTS do for you is if you plan on taking a day job, which I do not." The haughtiness was back and Harry was pleased to see it. He kissed Draco's upturned nose and then his lips, teasing their bottom lips together before consuming him with something deeper.

After a few breathless kisses in which Draco's hair became quite mussed and his face flushed, Harry paused to whisper, "I want you to live here. Stay with me after the NEWTS."

"Live with you? Isn't that a little... much?" Draco pushed his hair back and tried to regain his composure, but his grin made his attempts at refusal transparent.

"Oh Draco, you've been living here for months. There's nothing sudden about it!" Harry groped Draco's arse, making him jump and give Harry an exasperated look.

Then Draco peered over his shoulder to the corner of the divan where a fine black trunk with silver swirling dragons frolicked. "I don't know, this is so sudden."

"You prat!" Harry squeezed his arse again and laughed. "You knew I was going to let you stay?"

"I was hoping. Mum spent the morning informing me of all of my relatives that were that way and giving me lectures on being safe and.... Anyway, it's just a few things for the night. After NEWTS... if you're not unbearably annoying... I might stay." Draco blushed slightly and then squeezed Harry's arse.

"I'll try not to be annoying," he said, yelping the last word in surprise at Draco's squeeze. "But we know you'll stay because you love me, don't you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

"You love me. Admit it."

Draco exhaled and shook his head.

"So much love for me and my friends. But mostly me. You want to be my boyfriend, you want to live in my house with me." Harry beamed at Draco. He released his arse and started to tickle him.

Dropping to the floor at the first sign of being tickled, Draco giggled madly, flailing and kicking to get away from Harry. "Stop it, you maniac. You're barking. Barking mad!"

"You love me!" he giggled, blowing raspberries on Draco's neck. "Admit it and I'll stop."

"That's blackmail. Gryffindors don't blackmail!" Draco protested between embarrassed titters. He grabbed Harry's wrists and forced them away from his sides. "I might love you, if you weren't completely mental."

Harry pressed his hips against Draco's, sliding them together in that all-too familiar way. Beneath him, Draco whimpered and parted his legs. It had been far too long.

Wresting his hand from Draco's grip, he slid his hand over the front of his robe, feeling his growing length. "Tell me you love me and I'll touch you."

"You already are." Draco raised his arse as Harry pushed his robe up, pulling it over his thighs and finally over his head. They were on the floor of the drawing room, anyone could walk in or just walk by. The door wasn't even shut.

Harry left a trail of soft kisses over Draco's chest, nuzzling the soft skin he'd spent a month dreaming about. He just wanted to feel him now, the warmth, the feel of his muscles contracting under the soft skin, the twitch of his cock in his hand as he traced his tongue around Draco's areola.

Draco's smell, his soft cooing, the way that he surrendered completely to his touches-- Harry missed everything about Draco. Burying his face between his legs, he mouthed the shaft, his hands kept his thighs apart and flat. He kneaded the tense muscles as his thumbs crept to his opening.

He drew the soft pad of his thumb over the wrinkled, warm flesh, feeling the soft hairs and waxy skin. Harry wanted to be inside of him, to be connected to Draco. He wrestled with his pyjama pants till he fished out his wand and summoned the tube of lubricant. Draco must have been just as eager for this, as he didn't complain even when Harry's second finger slipped into him. His brow furrowed and his face reddened, but as Harry explored and found that spot again, Draco was lost in it again.

Stretching over him, Harry introduced a third finger and kissed over Draco's flushed face. "Say it, Draco. You're so beautiful; just tell me... that you love me."

Draco exhaled in his face, but otherwise said nothing. His eyes opened and he gazed into Harry's eyes, so filled with lust and adoration that Harry felt rather silly asking for words. Draco had faced his mum for him. He'd shown up at the house when he knew Harry was in a panic. He'd found a way for Harry to live. Draco spoke in gestures, not words. He licked his lips, ready to say whatever Harry wanted. Harry cut him off with a kiss, withdrawing his fingers to slide into him.

He didn't need words. He had Draco, and Draco was here, surrounding him, giving himself to him, their bodies coming together unhurried. Harry grasped Draco's cock, pulling in time with his thrusts as he sloppily kissed Draco. He felt a release building after Draco sputtered warmly on his hand and belly. Opening his eyes as he gave the last of his articulated thrusts that preceded his orgasm, Harry whispered, "We'll be together; whatever may come."