Changing Minds in Hard Times

Draco awoke to gentle touches. A hand ran down his back, almost lovingly. Next, the hand touched his hair; ran careful fingers through it, and lifted it to the nose of Draco’s love.



He opened his eyes and watched as Harry’s eyes closed with pleasure as he smelled the fresh smell of Draco’s hair, and felt its softness against his face. He was glad now that Snape had brought Draco some of the hair potion that Draco used as a shampoo. Now that wonderful smell was back. The one Harry had refused to admit affected him, back when he and Draco were in school.



When he opened his eyes again, Draco was awake, watching him and smiling. He stared as Draco stretched, and then pulled himself closer to Harry. The cuddled together for a few minutes, until Draco propped himself up and glanced out the window. It was dark out. This time, Draco cast the Tempus spell, sighing with relief when he saw that it was only seven minutes past eleven p.m. He had momentarily feared that they had slept past the vital time they had been waiting for, and had forever ruined their chances to save each other, and the world.



He dropped back down onto the bed and rolled to face Harry, who was still watching him.



“It’s almost time.” Harry said, breaking the moment of silence.



“Yes.”



“You’re still ok with this?”



Draco let out an unintentional shaky breath. “Yes.”



“We don’t have to do this, Draco…”



The former Slytherin cut him off. “Yes, Harry. We do. I can’t let Voldemort take over the world because I am shaken up about what happened to me before. This is bigger then me. Bigger then either of us.”



Harry smiled. “You’re wrong, Draco. This is us. Our love, together, is what will save us, and the world. So don’t say this is bigger then you, or me, or us.” Then he leaned over and kissed the blonds’ lips gently, reveling in how soft and sweet they were now that they had healed from the spilt skin and chapped lips he had had before.



Gentle petting started up again, neither demanding nor unwanted from either of the men on the bed. True to his word, Harry took it slow, waiting for Draco to make the next move to take the next step up. Slow and needy kisses were exchanged. Soft groans and moans of welcome and want were heard. And just as the clock struck midnight, time found Harry and Draco nearing completion, ready to take the next step into becoming lovers. Harry knelt between Draco’s legs, tugging gently on Draco’s engorged cock. He didn’t want to rush the blond man, but time was now of the essence, and Harry felt ready to explode. He felt as if all the seed his body had available had made itself ready for the end of this event. And his cock ached with need to release it all.



Draco was almost ready. He was comfortable with Harry’s position this way, face to face; a great deal more intimate then any death eater had ever done with him. Harry was about to lube himself in preparation, when a loud chime started up from near the door. Harry’s own version of a panic alarm.



The brunette stopped and attempted to lunge off the bed, his hero instincts kicking in. But the hand of his blond lover stopped him.



“Harry, if you go now, they win. I know that probably means the death eaters made it into the castle. They’ll be headed here any time now, and there’s nothing we can do to stop them. But Harry, we can at least try to win the main battle. Please…if not for me, stay and finish this for your friends, or the whole damned Wizarding world. Just don’t give up this one chance we have. Please, Harry.”



Harry stared at Draco, indecision written on his face. On one hand, he felt he should be down there with the rest of the Order, fighting to stop the onslaught of death eaters from getting further into the castle. But if he left Draco here alone, and without completing the prophecy before the hour was up, there was a very good chance that whether or not he helped to save the castle, Voldemort would win and rule the world.



He looked to the door, then back at Draco, and sighed. “I’ll stay. But let’s get this over with so we both can fight.” The blond nodded.



Harry crawled back towards the center of the bed, and waited while Draco repositioned himself. When the blond declared himself ready, Harry was preparing to cast the cleaning, lubing and stretching spell when a loud noise sounded at the old door. They had arrived.



“Harry, just do it!” The blond cried out, as he flipped onto his hands and knees and positioned himself as he had for the countless death eaters before. Harry risked casting the quick wandless spell to prepare Draco’s hole, and then pushed in, trying to ignore Draco’s outcry of pain. He thrust desperately, hoping to finish quickly, hoping to fight the death eaters and stop them from taking Draco away from him. Hoping to fight for his life and future.



But it was not to be. Moments into Harry and Draco’s intimate moment, the door splintered, and bits of the old cedar door flew inwards, scattering across the floor. A black gloved hand reached in through the newly made hole, felt around for the door handle, and found it with little trouble.



Draco stared at the gloved hand as it searched, and then found what it was looking for. It looked so familiar, the way the fine material starched over the long fingered, aristocratic hand. A hand very much like his father’s. He stifled a choking sob and began to push back against Harry’s thrusts, hoping to trigger Harry’s release so the brunette could use his magic to fight the enemy.



The gloved hand had found the door handle, and had tried to release the catch on the door. Then the person just beyond the door hand seemed to realize that there was more to this door then a simple lock, and had quickly cast several efficient unlocking charms.



The door swung inward, and in stepped Lucius Malfoy, his expensive black shoes crunching against the bits of broken door on the floor. Behind him came several other death eaters, his lackeys, of course.



Harry was not yet finished, and though he would have liked to stop thrusting roughly into Draco so he could effectively fight the death eaters, he knew better then to do so.



Draco was whimpering into the sheets now, trying to hade his face from his father’s hot gaze. This was just like the time his father had come in and watched while Draco was raped by other men as a punishment for refusing the Dark Lord the first time. No amount of begging or pleading could save him, when it came to his father. He had wronged his Lord, and this was what he deserved. But now, things were different. Here he was, wronging the Lord all over again, but with a different purpose in mind. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to look at his father in the face while the man he loved thrust into him.



He wasn’t ashamed. He was scared. Harry couldn’t offer him protection now, he knew that much. The death eaters had breached the Hogwarts defenses. Had gotten past countless Order members and teachers. Draco was screwed. Literally.



Harry flung out one hand, palm out, and released a wave of wandless magic that enveloped the bed and protected those in it. He knew that this strong of a ward wouldn’t hold much longer. And he also knew his magic gave out for a while after he came. And that moment was coming far too soon.



He reached down to Draco’s cock and fisted it as he thrust the last few times. If this was going to be their last time together, their only time together, he wanted Draco to enjoy it too. Then he whispered, just low enough for Draco to hear him, and no one else, “Draco, remember I love you.”



The muffled reply, “I love you too.” was the last thing Harry heard before he felt the muscles of Draco’s tight passage constrict around him. He came, and promptly blacked out as the shield went down and the knockout curse hit him straight on, fired by Lucius Malfoy himself.



Draco crumpled on the bed under the weight of the man he loved, and cried. He knew his father would take him to Voldemort now, and he had an idea of what that creature would want when he got there.



He stayed limp, forcing his father to do all the work. He would not do anything to aid his monster of a father ever again.



Lucius levitated the Boy-Who-Lived off his son, and dropped the spell when the other man’s body was hovering over the hard floor. He didn’t care about what happened to Harry Potter. His mission, and the only way to gain Voldemort’s trust again, was to bring back his son to his master in time for the prophecy to work. He regretted giving Draco that chance to prove himself on the death eater raid of Hogwarts. He never should have trusted his coward of a son to do the right thing. But now, whether Draco liked it or not, he would provide his service to the Dark Lord.



The older Malfoy then levitated his son off the bed in a strict body bind, not trusting the younger man not to try something foolish. He sneered as he realized the Potter boy must have released his seed into his son, and then cast a cleaning spell on Draco’s body and passage. The cleaning spell on the young mans body did its work quickly and well, and Draco was left spotless. The spell to clean Harry’s seed out of his passage however, died as it hit the young blond man.



He tried it again, just to be sure of the results, and again, the spell pulsed and faded out as it struck Draco’s ass. The older Malfoy groaned. Hopefully that didn’t mean what he thought it did.



Anyhow, he had no time to ponder it. With the wards down, and his son in levitated tow, he apperated away from Hogwarts, leaving Harry on the hard floor near the bed.