The Echoes Of Yesterday

The Echoes Of Yesterday…by Samayel

Chapter 18: Irony and Memories


Draco grabbed him by the hand, dragging him along through the halls of Grimmauld Place quickly, while Harry protested mildly in confusion.

“Hey! What’s the hurry? Where are we going? What’s got into you?”

They’d only been seeing each other ‘romantically’ for a matter of a few weeks. Prior to that, their time together had largely been spent arguing or pretending to ignore each other, until something like friendship had emerged, only to be quickly replaced by a lot more than that. Harry had been in a perpetual state of confusion, alternately awed by the way his life had suddenly changed and the feelings that came of being young and in love, and a little frightened of the sudden power of intimacy.

Draco pulled harder at his arm, forcing him to move faster down the upstairs hall.

“Really! You are hopeless, Harry. Nothing’s got into me…yet! I mean to fix that. The others just left. We’ve got time, and I have some new ideas I just have to try out. You’ll like them…shut up and trust me!”

Harry grinned helplessly. Draco always took charge, at least when it came to initiating sex. The hints he’d made weren’t lost on Harry, and he still blushed when he thought about what they were about to get up to.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t snogged a bit before, but Draco had hurried their explorations along fairly quickly, introducing Harry to things he hadn’t really had the time or wherewithal to even imagine. As soon as others were out of the house, Draco was on fire with need, completely shameless about his desire to get Harry into the nearest bed or quiet room…and Harry hadn’t any intention of complaining.

“We haven’t been in here before. It’s an old study. Nobody’s even using this room, so it’s not like we’re intruding on someone’s personal space or anything. We’ve already done it in the living room and kitchen and the bathroom and our rooms. I figured a change of pace would be fun! It been, like, three whole days! I thought they’d never piss off and leave us alone again.”

Draco had opened the door to the room and pulled Harry through, closing it behind them and pinning Harry against the door. Draco had several inches of height on him, and ground his hips against Harry’s while he ruthlessly snogged Harry into a state of excitement. Harry turned his head and let Draco work his lips down Harry’s neck and toward the pit of his throat. His shirt was being peeled away and Draco had a hand down the front of his pants already, stroking him roughly even inside his shorts. All Harry could do and stay coherent was relax and let Draco please the both of them however he wanted to do it.

It took less than a minute before he was standing in his own pile of clothes, supported by the door behind him, knees shaking while Draco hungrily lapped and stroked his cock. Draco only paused occasionally to peel away his own shirt and unbutton his trousers, tugging at the stiffening flesh straining inside his slacks while he attended carefully to Harry’s rigid prick.

Pre-come glistened at the head while Draco nuzzled his cheek against Harry’s cock.

“Eager much?”

Harry could only chuckle nervously. “Well…yeah. Wouldn’t you be? You’re bloody incredible…you know that…right?”

Draco smirked, hiding a faint blush by making himself busy and lapping away the droplet of come that shone at the tip of Harry’s cock. A second later, he had the majority of it in his mouth and was noisily sucking Harry off while Harry bit his lip and lost himself in the moment, hands fumbling in Draco’s hair while he whimpered softly.

He was right on the brink of orgasm, practically on tip toes, when Draco pulled away sharply, gasping for breath.

“No.”

“Ha…uhh…wha? No?” He’d only barely retained the mental strength to wonder what Draco meant. Was he not supposed to come?

“Come on. The desk is perfect. It’s bloody huge. Lots of room. Follow me if you want to really get off right and proper.”

Harry stepped out of the puddle of clothing at his feet and sheepishly followed Draco across the room, snickering at the weirdness of the two of them starkers and stiff in the otherwise undisturbed silence of Grimmauld Place.

At first, Draco climbed onto the desk and laid on his back near the edge, and Harry moved close, trying to position himself for what was sure to come, but the desk was just a few inches too tall for what they’d had in mind. It was an impressive old antique, and built to be imposing, but it also meant that penetration would be impossible, even on tip toes. Harry flushed with irritation. Draco laughed throatily and mussed Harry‘s hair before kissing him and stroking his flagging prick back to life.

“Alright, alright. No jokes about height. You’re perfect where it counts, right? Let’s try something different.”

Draco slid down, long legs flexing a moment before he pulled Harry close and wiped every trace of frustration away with a savage kiss. Draco was slim and clean and smooth, while Harry was built powerful and bunchy, with heavier shoulders and hips and the early hints of what would be a modestly hairy chest. They were near opposites in every way, but wrapped closely like this, pressed together and hot with urgency, differences melted away and meant nothing.

Draco turned around and grabbed hold of both the long ends of the desk, spreading his legs just enough to expose himself completely, and when he leaned down and laid his head on the desk with sigh, Harry knew what to do without even thinking first.

A whispered spell and he could finally do away with his wand, rubbing the slickness into Draco and onto his own cock in turn. His knees still felt a little shaky. They’d only started doing this kind of thing in the last couple weeks. It was still a little strange and frightening. The sensations were overpowering, and the realness of it all was enough to take his breath away.

A moment later he was sliding into his boyfriend’s body, while Draco moaned softly and pushed back, pulling more of Harry into him quickly.

“Bloody hell…that’s better. Feels so…good. Merlin, have I missed this. Three bloody days. Mmm….Harry….go on, give us a good shagging, right?”

Draco had rather surprised Harry when he turned out to favor being the ‘bottom’. Harry had always imagined Draco as unwilling to surrender to another or even perform any act that was less than dominant. Under the surface, Draco was quite different than anyone could have imagined. He was nervous, shy, quiet and deeply insecure, and needed constant reminders that his company was wanted and enjoyed.

This wasn’t to say that Draco was submissive. He wasn’t…not even in the slightest. He was very much outspoken about what he expected and what he desired, enough so that Harry found himself blushing a lot more than he ever had in school. Draco was explicit when he described every lascivious detail of what he enjoyed, and he was both frank and forward when it came to anything sexual. Bottom he might be, but Harry felt entirely comfortable letting Draco set the pace for their relationship, and even define the terms of it.

He regretted nothing. Draco had a playful sense of humor, wasn’t the least bit shy about intimacy, and to Harry’s surprise, even knew when not to say something that would only cause hurt. They’d crossed a boundary weeks ago, and there was every reason to believe that the only person Draco had ever behaved so comfortably around had been Harry. Given that Draco could also be a proud, vain and moody creature, the fact that he trusted Harry completely meant more than words could ever define.

Harry wasn’t a complete fumbling naïf anymore, not after weeks of sexual activity. He could read the small sounds and hints that Draco gave, and he responded accordingly. When something he did excited or pleased his boyfriend, he remembered it and tried to make sure he did the same thing as often as possible. He’d figured out the speed and depth that Draco responded to best, and strove to recreate them every time they had privacy. The results had been just stellar so far.

This was a relatively new position for the both of them, since they’d really only been at this for a short while. Harry was thrusting carefully, sorting out what Draco liked best, and he was conscious of the sheen of sweat on his face in the cool of the room. Draco’s body was tight and hot, and the urge to come and come quickly was hard to suppress, but if he paused or changed rhythms from time to time it helped.

Draco’s cock was a stiff and pale rod, leaking the first hints of pre-come while he ground back into Harry’s strokes, panting heavily and giving every evidence of enjoying himself. Harry slipped his hand around Draco’s waist, wrapping it around the flesh he found stiffened and eager for contact.

Draco mewled helplessly, wordlessly begging for release, and Harry obliged as best he could, tugging gently around the foreskin and head the way Draco liked most, keenly aware of the way Draco wriggled back against him, unable to stay still when he was most excited.

Draco’s skin was flushed and hot, and his breath came in desperate little gasps while he hovered less than a minute on the edge of orgasm. With short, sharp, staccato cries he came into Harry’s hand, and Harry let go and took hold of Draco’s hips while he delivered a few last powerful thrusts before coming hard and well, loving the way Draco’s body tightened around his cock during orgasm.

His boyfriend flopped, sweaty, shuddering and spent, onto the desk, and Harry fell across him comfortably, head at rest on Draco’s back while they caught their breath. Every few seconds his cock would pulse again, pumping a few last drops into his lover’s body, making Harry tense for just a few seconds at a time. Draco could barely speak, but a few words slipped out breathily.

“Per….perfect. You’re perfect, Harry. That was…great. Thank…thank you.”

So proper. So content and still so proper. Draco never whispered open or obvious oaths of love, but he never failed to say something heartfelt or approving. Harry knew what he meant. He also knew what was hard for Draco to say. Harry whispered his own words of affection, but avoided the one clichéd phrase that made Draco so uncomfortable. They never spoke of love, but it didn’t really matter. In every other way…they lived it the best they could...here in the middle of a war, never sure of what would happen to them next, and that would have to be enough.

But Grimmauld Place was a different time and a faraway place. Harry had taken from that place only a few things that mattered. His books and mementoes, a few attractive things for his suite at Hogwarts…and the desk.

Finding Draco’s son sprawled across it, shirt hanging around his waist and back bared for some kind of savage and brutal beating, was a perversion of everything decent and happy in his memories. Harry, already far from his best mood after the day’s events, finally snapped, all sense of professionalism gone in a heartbeat.

A flashback of days past and bittersweetly beautiful memories destroyed slid away, and he was trembling with rage, looking at the sulky and impudent brat that had practically assaulted a student just to lure Harry into a duel. There was nothing calm or sage in Harry’s tone when he could finally bring himself to speak.

“What the bloody, buggery hell do you thing you’re doing!? Put your shirt and robes back on this instant!”

Draco rose and turned slowly, looking confused but still angry. His face was still red from their earlier encounter, but the sullen anger in his eyes was still visible.

“I…I thought…”

“WHO CARES WHAT YOU THOUGHT! Put your things on this minute! Follow a fucking order when you’re given one! Just this fucking once!”

Draco started back, thrown off by the frightening veneer of rage that twisted Harry’s face. The profanity was crude and loud, and utterly out of character for the quiet and intelligent gentleman he’d grown used to. Draco fumbled with his shirt quickly and tried to restrain the comments on the tip of his tongue.

“But…”

“BUT!? SHUT…YOUR…MOUTH! There is nothing…nothing you can say that I want to hear! I’ll do the talking for awhile!”

“I only…”

Harry’s wand came up, and the way it trembled slightly made the level of Harry’s rage utterly clear. Draco closed his mouth and reached for his robes, suddenly quite aware that he was in danger. He didn’t want to admit it, but the man had been toying with him during the entire duel. It had been nothing but spirited exercise for Harry Potter, and he was more than a little nervous about the professor’s state of mind. It was possible that whatever came out of that wand wouldn’t be a simple hex or charm.

Harry stalked the room in silence while Draco pulled on his robes. When Draco slouched back against the desk, still sullen and with arms crossed in impatience, the explosion of words finally came.

“How fucking dare you! Inexcusable! Intolerable! I’ve had it! I don’t care about your academic abilities. I don’t care where you came from or how you bloody well feel about it! I don’t even see a reason for you to remain here. I have nothing to teach to the kind of cowardly sneak who practically assaults a student just to pull me into a duel over a petty grudge!

Don’t even play the innocent with me! You’re too bright to fake that. You didn’t get what you wanted, so like a spoiled brat you staged a tantrum. You insulted me in front of my class, after disobeying instructions that were perfectly clear. Your reasons are irrelevant. I can’t justify keeping you here at the risk of other students…and frankly your behavior today makes me sicken at the sight of you.”

Draco’s mouth opened and closed for a few moments while the words bit at him. Expulsion. He’d gone too far, and they didn’t dole out whippings here. There were no house points to be taken for a houseless student. He’d lost his temper, and now he’d lost his time here. Something resolved in him. There was nothing to lose. He’d be out of here anyway. Might as well go for broke.

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter! So you won. Big deal. I was still right. You’re a coward too. The great Auror who quit when he could have delivered something like justice. You couldn’t even finish the job when they killed your- HURK!”

He’d been addressing Harry’s turned back, and then a hand was clamped around his windpipe and his feet weren’t touching the floor anymore. He grabbed hold of the single hand that held him aloft and tried to pull away, but the fingers were solid around his throat, and red was tinting his vision while struggled to suck in air. He was at arm’s length, and he was still held up almost effortlessly, too far away to do more than kick and jerk feebly.

“You arrogant little shit!” The words came out a pinched hiss, while Harry’s eyes bored into the frightened gray ones above him. “You fucking presume to know what I have or haven’t done? What I can or can’t do? You know nothing…NOTHING!”

“You want vengeance? You want death on your hands? Think that will make you feel better? You’re a fool! I killed them. The ones who did it! I killed them all. I snuffed them out like candles. They don’t keep murderers in the Auror service. Not even former heroes.”

Harry lowered his arm and pushed back gently, sending Draco casually tumbling to the floor, sucking in deep lungful after lungful of air.

“There’s your vengeance. They erased the records and covered it up, because their precious hero killed three people in cold blood. There was nothing glorious about it. Nothing was better. Just three dead bodies to join the two that came first. I wake up every day with the knowledge of what I’ve done…and it makes me sick…because I enjoyed it. I wanted vengeance…and I took it. I hope you got what you wanted. I thought I did, and I threw away my career, and my self respect, to get it. Now you’ve thrown away your time here. Go pack your things and get out of my sight. Get out.”

Draco crawled to his feet and ran, head overloaded with thoughts and feelings and images he couldn’t manage, and he kept running until he found his rooms.

TBC!!!