A Dark Time For The Light

19

Harry awoke first. In the pre-wakeful drowse, he felt the weight in his arms and cuddled up, going hard in spite of the fact that it was his bladder that had woken him up. He murmured and pressed against his lover’s back before coming to consciousness and rolling off their bed and dressing sufficiently to go in search of the loo. As he left the room, Draco bunched up tighter, feeling tears threaten. Harry had curled against him and murmured Severus’ name in half-sleep.

Draco composed himself as Harry climbed back into bed, having lit a candle, but he still saw the heaving chest, a stray part of a wet trail down his cheek. He turned Draco to him. “What did I do?”. The blond looked into his eyes, panic writ large, “You said his name, Harry. As we woke up. His name. Not mine”. His face creased and Harry felt guilt surge through him. He looked Draco full in the eye, a scared expression on his face. “Keep me away from him, love, maybe he’s cast an Undetectable Charm, addicted me in the same way addiction seemed to get my two best friends and a sizeable chunk of Slytherins that I saw in Bristol”, he shuddered at the memory and Draco held him tight, planting tiny kisses in his hair, a small smile of victory on his face.

By the time they arrived for breakfast, they were told that Severus had eaten earlier and had gone again. Harry breathed something akin to a sigh of relief and tucked in to a huge breakfast, his beloved Dragon at his side. They faced each other as they ate, then leaned in grinning and rubbing noses ‘til a polite cough brought them round. “Have you got any mail for us, Harry?, only Severus said it was in your bag”, snapped Harry back to reality. He blushed and apologised before slipping back to their room and unpacking the mail. He idly wondered where Severus had disappeared to, so quickly, then shrugged as he re-entered the canteen, distributing mail. A final letter for his lover who looked at it, puzzled.

Harry took the thing from him and ripped off the three perforated sides. Densely printed on the inside with an inner envelope, four single-digit numbers faintly printed on the inner level. Harry grinned, “Your PIN number, love, lets you get at the account Snodgrass set up for you. Type it in the first time and you get to change it to something easier to remember”, he passed it back to a baffled Draco, who asked, “Will you help me with this stuff, please, Harry?”, in a low voice.

Harry’s brow furrowed, “I suggest you divide it up. A large sum like that always attracts attention. You need to have a chat to your bank manager. Where’s the account held?”. An innocuous enough question. Draco peered at the paperwork, “Holborn, here in London”. Harry watched the blond head bent over his accounts. Realised that the pureblood blond had absolutely no idea how a muggle bank account was conducted and grinned inwardly. If Draco could have his secrets, then so could he.

The following day saw them both in front of a large imposing building. Harry gently ushered his lover inside and within an hour had had transferred fifty grand to himself, fifty into an account that was for Ginny’s exclusive use, fifty for Draco in his own account and the rest into the Underground account. Minerva was with them as a witness to signatures, then removed two hundred and fifty quid at the cash machine. “Boys. I think this calls for a party. Such entertainments are few and far between. I feel that the cadre would benefit. And it is Friday night. Most of the workers are not at their jobs again until Monday”. With high-fives, they couldn’t help but agree.

A mini-bus sized taxi was summoned. Several crates and boxes of supplies loaded aboard, then all dropped off under an anonymous railway bridge, by the driver they paid large sums to, to keep quiet.

That night the beer flowed, weed was smoked and fun was had by all. Harry’s vague misgivings were completely forgotten. Having his Dragon by his side, then openly dancing together, then kissing, intoxicated, to be brought back by a nudge to Harry’s shoulder. Ron, holding out a lit blunt. Harry grinned and took it. Draco looked sceptical, watching carefully as Harry smoked, holding the fumes down before releasing the remainder of the smoke. He took a couple of drags and handed it on. Draco hadn’t got a clue.

He cautiously sucked on the roach feeling his virgin lungs fill. So far so good. He held the smoke in, then let it go, coughing loudly, dry-retching and gasping for breath, a few moments later feeling himself go white and cold until Harry held him in warm safe arms and the chill dispelled.

Then suddenly the sound of music broke over the gathering. Loud with insistent beats that made the feet tap, the hips twitch, legs move. The clear space in front of the serving bench quickly filled with dancers grinding together, Draco and Harry amongst them, grinning like loonies, their hips fitting together as if made for it, then kissed as if their lives rested on it.

Hermione grinned as she watched the scenario before her. All was right with the world once again. Harry was back with Draco. She watched them dance, their bodies moulded together, Harry bringing Draco’s mouth to meet his, a look of wonder and love in his eyes. Whatever he thought of Severus Snape, Hermione knew one thing. He was still very much in love with Draco Malfoy.

Just then, a kiss on her temple brought her out of her reverie, the can of cola removed from her fingers and she was dragged to the dancefloor by her own beloved. As she curled her arms around her, she fought back tears. She wasn’t in the mood for a party. She was feeling too thoughtful, but she swallowed both her tears and her negative thoughts and concentrated on the red-headed livewire in her arms.

Who threaded eager arms around her then kissed her hard, hang who was watching. She sensed Hermione’s slight apathy and leaned in, “You’re not in the mood for this, are you, love?”. Hermione shook her head slightly. She had to look up slightly to look into her lover’s eyes, “Sorry, baby”, she whispered. Ginny led them both to a table at the back of the canteen. They settled into the far corner and Ginny took Hermione into her arms.

“Come on, you. What’s up?. Fit of the glooms?”. She felt the nod against her shoulder. “Sorry, honey, but I still go up and down really quickly”. Ginny nodded and held her beloved tighter. Hermione had given her a book to read written by ex-junkies about what really happens when you decide to quit, the book that told her that physical withdrawal was only the beginning and that now they were riding the emotional and hormonal roller-coaster. She held her girlfriend, the love of her life, and was just there. They rocked slightly. Ginny was aware of concerned looks and glances their way, but she shook her head and smiled, stroking Hermione’s hair.

Harry occasionally stole glances at the two girls, saw Ginny light a small blunt, it pass between them, Ginny holding it to Hermione’s lips, gently wiping tears from his best friend’s face with delicate fingers, then cup her face with a slender hand and kiss her. Harry smiled slightly as he saw the rapt look on Hermione’s face. Full of beer and bonhomie, Harry turned to his own lover, whose head rested on his shoulder as they moved, lips nuzzling his neck. Bliss and joy coursing through him, Harry tipped his head to one side allowing his lover free rein.

Ginny eventually led her lover to the floor for a dance, more a moving smooch, she didn’t mind. She cast a lazy eye over the rest of the dancers, her brother in a joshing knot with Dean and Seamus. No surprise there, they were ex-dorm-mates and good friends.

It was the sizzling look that Ron cast in Draco’s general direction that she couldn’t fathom. Neither could Harry when he also caught it unawares.

He glanced at Draco’s blissful expression as he moved in Harry’s arms and decided that now was not a good time to quiz him. He simply glared at Ron who caught the look, then blushed and looked down. Harry frowned, there was more here than met the eye. For now, though, he melted into the sensation that was his beloved’s arms around him and lived in the purely here-and-now.

No-one saw the girls as they crept away, giggling. They carefully consulted timetable and watch by the light of the torch and slipped away to what had become their rooms. They knew that now Hermione didn’t need to be in isolation any more, they should have moved onto the main station, but they were both reluctant to give up their privacy, not to mention their own shower room.

As they opened their door and lit candles around the room, Hermione stashed tools that she’d ‘borrowed’ from Dean in a safe place, then turned on her eager lover. They slowly undressed each other, moaning into each other’s mouths, then Hermione pressed them both backwards until Ginny fell over their bed taking Hermione with her, then felt soft lengths of cloth binding her wrists, her ankles. The redhead grinned into the semi-darkness as she felt her Mistress come back. Taking her, devouring her, just like the old days. Ginny keened her willingness and satisfaction and Hermione answered with a growl as she took and took again, until her lover was a limp rag in her arms

They curled together. Ginny whispered, “Welcome back, my Missy. My Mistress. My own”. To be rewarded with a deep kiss, and a sighed, “Oh!. Merlin!. My Girlie. Love you. Love you forever”. They gazed into each other’s slightly blood-shot eyes and grinned. Big daft in-love grins. Then held each other tight and fell asleep.

Deeper into the night, though who was to know, as they spent most of their time in darkness, two bodies relaxed against each other, breathing hard, exhausted, sated and simply held each other. Whether it was the weed or not, Draco wasn’t sure, but the ability to stay awake awhile and not succumb to sleep seemed to please his beloved no end. Not to mention himself, lying in drowsy arms talking of this and that, an intimacy shared as the night wheeled overhead towards dawn. Sharing kisses and quiet confidences, until both drifted gently towards sleep, Draco amazing himself realising he held a sleeping Harry in his arms and pressing a joyful kiss to his forehead before, he too, slept.