Rimshots: Nothing Changes

Many thanks to Eeyore and knightmare for beta’ing. Thanks to all that pushed me to write a sequel, I’m sorry it’s taken so long – it seemed my muse was waiting for the appropriate song! (Cold as Ice by Foreigner – lyrics at the end)


Harry's feet felt like ice blocks by the time he reached the Slytherin dormitories. Twice he'd nearly turned back, fearing frostbite, but desire to see Draco urged him on. He'd not seen the blond, properly, in almost a week. Not even for a snatched kiss or two between classes.

Draco was never what you could call loving, but they were both 17 year old boys, and were inclined to get off whenever possible. Draco usually initiated it, likely because he was sneakier by far and managed to catch Harry alone more often than Harry ever caught the blond on his own. This past week had been harder. Draco seemed to be constantly surrounded by people every time Harry had seen him, which wasn't often, to be honest. He guessed Draco might be avoiding him. Last Saturday's post-Quidditch whatever it was, had been... intense didn't quite cover it, but it would do for now.

After all, it wasn't every day you told your enemy-cum-fuckbuddy that you loved him. Or that he loved you, while said lover was tied to the shower, begging you to take him. Harry imagined even the Malfoy code of etiquette didn't cover that one.

Against all logic, Harry believed that Draco did love him, that somewhere deep beneath his icy exterior, Draco was a decent guy, and that love would conquer all. That was the sole reason Harry was creeping through the school at two in the morning, Map and wand in hand, beneath his Invisibility Cloak.

He'd spent a good five minutes in front of the mirror casting Lumos under the cover of his Cloak to make sure that it wouldn't be seen. Harry had expected the Slytherin dorms to be dark but, unfortunately, while in the warmth of his own house tower, he'd not thought they would be cold. Even his bones felt cold.

He'd only just managed to hiss an order at the Slytherin entrance through his chattering teeth. It was good the founders had believed every Parselmouth would be in Slytherin, or he might have frozen to death had he had to walk back. Harry didn't know if he was more excited about getting in Draco's bed for warmth, or because he actually wanted to see the blond. Definitely the bed, he decided as a cold draft played around his legs, billowing the Cloak.

Checking the Map, he edged his way towards the dot labelled 'Draco Malfoy'. Through the Cloak, even by wandlight, Harry couldn't see a thing. His foot kicked...something, across the room, sending it rattling and scraping along the stone floor. He stopped moving, holding his breath, listening for any small sound that would indicate he'd woken someone. Nothing. At least, nothing but the pounding of his own blood in his ears.

Carefully this time, using only very small steps, he found Draco's bed. Inside the curtains, Harry 'Noxed' his wand, closed the Map, and pulled off his Cloak, throwing all three things to the end of the bed.

Blinking a couple of times, he looked around, eyes wide. It was pitch dark. Not shades of grey with black shadows but a solid, heavy black with no relief. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? He couldn't see his hand right in front of his face, let alone the edge of the cover to get into bed.

Running his hands along the mattress, Harry found the duvet scrunched up at the bottom of the bed. What the hell was Draco playing at? It must be minus two, at the most! Shivering harder now, Harry tried desperately to find the edge of the thick quilt.

"For fuck’s sake Harry, just get in bed," came Draco's hushed whisper, making him jump.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked, almost forgetting to lower his voice as he sat down.

"I was asleep, but the god awful racket you made coming in woke me up," he said, managing to sound snarky even whispering. He pulled the covers over them and Harry snuggled down under the still warm material. Draco settled down next to him, close enough that Harry could feel his breath as he spoke.

"What on earth are you doing here, Potter?"

Feeling better now he was warmer and Draco hadn't told him to piss off, Harry replied cheekily.

"I dunno, why would I come down in the middle of the night?"

He reached for Draco's groin but found his hip instead. It would do.

Draco flinched under his hand.

"Catching pneumonia by the feel of it. Fuck, you're freezing."

Harry edged closer, uncaring of how put out Draco sounded. He was sure he'd warm up soon enough.

"Mmmhmmm, and you're so warm," he breathed. Even so close, Harry had no idea where Draco's face or, more importantly, his lips were. His first kiss landed on what was unmistakably Draco's jaw.

"Bloody hell, how do you put up with this darkness?" he murmured, stretching up to trail his lips across the light, scratchy stubble to find soft lips.

"Usually we sleep through it," the blond retorted between kisses.

Bloody git, always has to get the last word in, Harry thought, more affectionately than he meant to. It was his last coherent thought for quite a while.

To Harry's still cold body, Draco felt like a furnace, warming every part he touched. Burning circles and trails along his back, branding his chest, causing Harry to moan softly with every touch. Their tongues duelled and tangled for dominance as they always did, neither really wanting the other to back down. It wasn't long before Harry felt warmer, likely something to do with the blood pounding around his body and the heat pooling at his groin.

Sliding a leg between Harry's, Draco pulled him closer, rutting lightly against him. Through the thin cotton of his pyjama trousers, Harry could feel the Draco's long, thick cock, already as hard as his own. Reaching between them, Harry wrapped his hand around the jutting length, only to have it forcefully removed.

“Fuck. Too fucking cold. Have you no circulation?”

“My circulation’s fine, Draco,” Harry whispered back, thrusting his hips forward as evidence.

“Well, at least we know where all the blood’s gone,” Draco retorted, slipping a hand underneath Harry's trousers and giving his cock a squeeze that was far more enjoyable than it was surely meant to be.

Maybe he'd intended it all along, or maybe Harry's involuntary sigh at the touch had spurred him on; whatever the reason, Draco didn't let go. He palmed Harry's cock with expertise born of long study into what felt good, what made Harry moan and writhe at just a touch.

Just when Harry's hips were pushing harder into his hands, Draco pulled the foreskin back, thumb swirling over the most sensitive parts with impossible accuracy, wracking his system with pleasure until he felt flushed and feverish.

The hand that wanked him was now slippery, sliding easily over his length, and Harry knew he was leaking, his cock straining and begging to be granted release.

Just before he could reach that final peak, Draco's hand stopped its delicious motion in favour of gripping him hard around the base.

“Draco, what the?” he panted, still too near the edge to be truly annoyed.

“You didn't think I'd let you come without me, did you?” Draco asked, in a husky voice that was surely meant to speak much dirtier things.

“You bastard! You said my hands were cold,” Harry whispered incredulously.

With unbelievable precision in such a dark room, Draco found Harry's ear.

“So don't use your hands,” he breathed.

Oh yes, those type of things.

Had it not been for Draco's hand holding off his orgasm, Harry might have come at that voice alone. So soft and husky, promising any number of erotically nefarious things.

Harry huffed in annoyance, pushing Draco onto his back. Only the thought of having Draco at the mercy of his mouth until he begged drove him on. He'd comply, but he'd make damn sure that when Draco came, he, Harry would be right there with him.

Using his now almost innate sense of Draco's body, Harry worked his way down, pausing only to tease nipples, trace stomach muscles, and bite gently on the indents of his hips. His mind’s eye filled in the colourless dark in front of his eyes; a rosy nipple here, surrounded by pale, almost completely unblemished skin, until...just there, a tiny scar to the left of his belly button, just the smallest of imperfections, but one that Harry loved.

Closer now, and covered by the duvet, it was stiflingly warm and filled with Draco's musky scent. Harry dragged his hand down the taut stomach, feeling muscles flex and jump beneath his cold touch, and through Draco's wiry curls to palm his cock.

A whispered 'fuck' from above.

Harry fought to hold back a smirk.

Serves him right.

Using his hand as a guide, Harry bent forward and, feeling the distinct texture of velvety soft skin over the blood engorged hardened cock, opened his mouth.

Draco tasted every bit as good as he usually did, slightly bitter and salty and musky and just so fucking good.

Never one to tease , Harry swallowed him down completely; relaxing his throat and pushing down his gag reflex, Draco slid smoothly down. He pulled back just as quickly, pulling in a breath, a lungful of Draco smelling air before bobbing his head again.

His tongue swirled, tracing idle patterns down the length, as he pushed Draco past his gag reflex again and again.

It wasn't long before Draco's hips flexed off the bed, pushing himself harder into Harry's welcoming mouth.

Dropping his hand down, Harry tentatively cupped Draco's sac, rolling the tight balls between his fingers, earning himself a throatful of cock as Draco arched upwards. Pushing his middle finger further back, Harry found and circled the small pucker of Draco's opening. A groan from above, and Draco's legs fell open until Harry could only feel the hairy calves against his elbows.

Draco's hands stole under the covers to find Harry's head and run his fingers from nape to scalp and back again.

"Fuck, Harry, more," Draco hissed, the urgency more than obvious in his voice.

Knowing that he'd never find his wand or Draco's lube in this heavy blackness, Harry stuck his fingers in his mouth, alongside Draco's cock. Licking them and covering them in saliva, he could taste a hint of the bitter muskiness of where they'd just been.

Crooking his fingers, he curled them over the head of Draco's cock, swirling them in saliva mixed pre-come.

Harry trailed his fingers down, using touch to find the small opening that would lead to such bliss.

Draco arched upwards again as Harry pressed against him, almost pulling the digit inwards. Harry bobbed his head and swirled his tongue with just as much enthusiasm as before, as he carefully thrust his finger in and out of his lover.

Draco's body relaxed quickly, tight, constricting muscles soon loosening and pulsing invitingly, until Harry was pumping two, then three fingers in and out of him.

Pulling his fingers out and mouth off, Harry crawled up Draco's body, tongue mapping out the contours and finding its way to Draco's mouth. He lapped at the soft bottom lip, begging entrance only to be pushed back.

"Kneel up."

Harry complied, only to have his pyjama trousers pushed down and his own cock covered in the molten liquid heat of Draco's mouth.

He wished he could see Draco, bent double and blond head bobbing on his cock, coating it with his saliva. It didn't last nearly long enough.

Cold air, freezing after Draco's mouth, hit him.

The bed dipped again as Draco moved.

Placing a hand on the body in front of him, Harry felt Draco turn over, onto his hands and knees.

Aware that they didn't have long, Harry ran his hands down Draco's back to the soft skin of his arse. Finding the slackened opening, Harry prised his cheeks apart and positioned himself.

Pushing gently at the ring of muscle, Harry thrust shallowly forward, saliva barely enough to grant a smooth easy entrance, but Draco's body was hot and welcoming, seeming to pull him in with each gentle pulse and thrust.

Working his way back and forth, opening Draco further until his hips hit the blond’s backside, Harry sighed.

It always felt so good to be with Draco, so fucking perfect. As if his life wasn't complete without him. Nothing else mattered when he was with him; not the war or school or any petty arguments with his friends. Draco seemed to make everything better just by simply being.

Draco had been right last week; Harry was in love with him, or at least, so close to it that it didn't matter.

Harry pulled back slowly, the lack of real lubrication making it seem more real, making them seem more connected. If Draco minded the increased friction of drying spittle, Harry didn't notice it.

"Harder, faster, fuck, Harry, just move, stop being so damn careful," Draco hissed.

Harry complied, thrusting forward firmly as Draco bore down, pushing backwards. A few more thrusts and he was slickening Draco's insides with pre-come; cock weeping and easing the way.

Easier now, he pistoned his hips, grinding into his lover’s arse, as Draco pushed back, helping impale himself again and again on Harry's cock. It felt unbelievably good, a week of nothing and then this...

He leaned over, needing to taste sweat soaked skin and feel bones and muscles shifting beneath him as Draco arched, and bucked, and pushed up onto him.

As Harry held his hips, Draco writhed and whispered expletives and things he wanted to do to Harry next time, this time, any time. Staving off his orgasm, Harry tried to make out Draco's words over his own panting moans and the slap of hips hitting soft fleshy arse.

"Going to...feel this all week...you inside me, pounding into...me," a grunt as Harry ground into him, "want more...Harry, hand. Now. Hand on my cock. Need to feel you around me...not just - oh, fuck, right there - inside of me."

Never breaking his hard, fast pace, Harry slid a hand around to grasp Draco's cock. He found it rock hard, tip wet with leaking pre-come, and bobbing against Draco's stomach with the merciless pounding of his rhythm.

He only managed a couple of strokes before Draco stiffened.

"I'm going to...right now, all over your hand...going to..." he moaned out loud, forgetting the lack of silencing spell.

"Come, Harry, please, want you...inside me...please?" At the uncharacteristic plea, Harry did.

He couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. Draco's body clenched almost painfully, spasming around him, pulse after pulse, milking every orgasmic wave of pleasure from his body. Harry's back bowed, thrusting his hips forward a final time to feel every muscle tighten around him as he emptied himself inside Draco.

Shaking at the comedown, Harry collapsed on top of the blond, pushing them both into the mattress. Neither made any attempt to move as they listened for sounds that they'd been too loud; there was nothing but the snoring of Draco's dorm mates and their own harsh panting as they caught their breaths.

Draco was the first to regain use of his limbs, bucking up with a murmured, "Potter, get off me."

Harry could do little more than roll over, pulling himself out of Draco with an audible pop.

Feeling content and sleepy after their activities, Harry pulled the duvet over them, uncaring that the heavy cover wasn't quite straight.

"You arrive, you fuck, and now you expect to sleep? Has anyone ever told you that you're greedy?"

Even with his eyelids drooping and sleep creeping up on him, Harry could tell Draco was more amused than put out. He made a murmured sound of agreement, and pulled Draco closer until they lay entwined. Harry's last thought before sleep claimed him was how perfect this was.

* * * *

Harry awoke to darkness almost as oppressing as the night before. He always woke early when he was in bed with Draco, as if just by having the blond near him meant he got more rest than when alone. The room was still cold, and light seeped in under the door and through the thin slits laughably called windows, near the ceiling, turning blackness into shades of grey.

He lay for a long time, feeling numb, barely thinking as he stared at the arm in front of him. He'd never really looked at it before; oh, he'd seen a couple, but he'd never had the chance to study one.

Tracing the blackened outline of the skull burnt into the soft flesh of his lover’s arm, tears stung Harry's eyes. His chest ached with a longing he couldn't name, had he even wanted to.

Draco shifted behind him, pressing closer and the arm slid out of sight, tracing down Harry's stomach to grip his flaccid cock. With a sound of discontent, Draco flexed his own hard on over Harry's backside and began a gentle stroking motion with his fingers over Harry's uninterested groin.

He felt nothing. He felt numb to the touch, completely removed from the situation and Draco's questing fingers.

"Did you mean it?" he asked softly.

Draco's hand didn't let up, only widened its range, up to his stomach and then down to mid-thigh.

"Mean what?" voice hushed and sleepy, Draco's breath hit Harry's nape as he spoke. Normally it would have made him shiver, but now...

"Do you love me?"

Something in Harry's tone seemed to have warned him, for Draco's hand stilled as he snorted.

"Idiot Gryffindor. You think I'd risk the wrath of three of the scariest wizards for you, if I didn't?" he drawled softly.

Harry said nothing. Draco's words seemed like a diversion from having to admit, or deny outright. Even a bare faced lie would have been better.

Letting himself be rolled over, Harry lay quiescent as his - could he still call Draco his lover? - leaned over him, worry plain to see in every line.

"I love you. You know I do," he whispered, brows furrowed and eyes never leaving Harry's.

For all his faults, Harry believed him. Looking into those molten silver-grey eyes, how could he not?

Trying to order his thoughts, Harry drank in the Draco's expression; lips pinched with no sign of a sneer or smirk, small creases at the side of his eyes as he stared hard, trying to work out where this conversation was going.

With a small burst of gleeful emotion, Harry realized Draco was concerned for him. It was the first time he'd seen an emotion other than anger, lust or barely hidden amusement.

The burst abruptly curled up and died as Harry realized the concern might be completely selfish on Draco's part. Reaching for the blond's right forearm, Harry stroked his fingers over the spot where he knew the Dark Mark to rest.

"Then why did you get this?" his voice sounded broken and defeated, even to his own ears.

Draco sighed and leaned back on his knees.

"I'd hoped you wouldn't see it," he said ruefully, clutching his branded arm.

Harry sat up; of all the unexpected, stupid reactions...

"I'm amazed you didn't go for your wand and curse me in my sleep."

Harry blinked; that sounded like something he should have done.

"It didn't occur to me," he said honestly. Funny, his voice sounded hollow, not close to the tears and hysterics that were threatening to break through. Maybe he should say more while he still could.

"Why did you get that if you love me?" Harry asked again.

Draco shook his head, lip quirking in amusement.

"Blunt, aren't we?"

"Just answer the question," Harry whispered urgently, as he watched every small movement and flicker of expression cross Draco's face. He wasn't going to miss anything. The blond opened his mouth to speak three times before he seemed to find the words.

"I love you, but I can't give up my beliefs for you. It's not who I am."

"You believe in a bunch of fucked up prejudiced arseholes out to kill me, the one you claim to love. Don't you think that’s a bit of a conflict of interests?"

Draco said nothing, fingering the blackened design.

“When were you going to tell me?” Harry demanded.

“When you needed to know.”

Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. After a silence, Draco looked up and answered the unspoken prompt.

“Fine,” he sighed, “if I was ever forced to kill or capture you, I would have let you know beforehand.”

“Thanks,” Harry said sardonically, “I feel so loved.”

“Don't get like that. You knew who I was when we started this. You knew this changed nothing,” the famed Malfoy mask was firmly in place, and Draco's tone was harsh.

“What will you do if you have to kill me?” The air seemed to close in on him as he spoke, and Harry's chest tightened. He thought he knew the answer, that was bad enough, so why did he want to hear it?

“Then I'll kill you. It's for the good of wizard kind. I don't want to, but if you insist on getting in the way of the Dark Lord's plan, you know it will come to that.”

It was ludicrous, like a horrible nightmare, or maybe the Muggle Twilight Zone re-runs. He knew Draco could be a cold bastard at times, but this was ridiculous.

“Could you really do it, Malfoy? Could you really kill me?” Harry asked, crawling closer, needing to see the other boy's reaction to the question.

“If I have to,” Draco answered, looking confused, as if maybe this should have occurred to Harry. Perhaps it should have.

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. All his castles in the sky were crashing down around him.

“Then it's over,” Harry said, voice devoid of the emotions welling up inside of him. How could he sound so empty when his heart was shattering and pain consuming him?

“What did you expect Potter?” Draco asked coldly. “You thought love could conquer all? You thought I'd give up the only life I've ever known, for you?”

Harry couldn't look into those cold eyes as he nodded. He hadn't imagined this ending any other way.

He didn't always expect to live through this war with Voldemort - it seemed impossible at times. How could a 17 year old, semi-trained wizard go against the most powerful dark wizard of their times, a man who killed indiscriminately, a man who had even killed his last remaining family, and survive? But even in his most morose moments, he'd expected Draco to be by his side, or even in the background, neutral, but always loving him. Making him feel as if there was something worth surviving for.

He hadn't even considered Draco picking Voldemort.

“I don't think I could kill you,” he said quietly. Draco was silent for so long that Harry wondered if he'd been too quiet for the blond to hear. Eventually, he spoke.

“Then don't. Don't fight. Or maybe think about pledging yourself to the Dark Lord.”

Anger welled up inside of him, and Harry grasped the reprieve from pain gladly.

“Throw my loyalty in with the madman who murdered my parents? Yeah, good one, Malfoy,” he glared at the blond, who glared right back.

“Well then, you're going to have to kill or hurt me at some stage, so I suggest you get over it and stop acting like this is such a shock.”

“Unlike you, I'm not a cold unfeeling bastard, and I actually expected the guy who says he loves me to not try and kill me,” Harry snapped, feeling the rage inside of him build and welcoming it.

How dare Draco do this to him? Declaring his love last week, even while he probably had the one thing that marked him as against Harry. The one thing that was against all Harry stood for.

Draco swung off of the bed to grab his slacks, and pulled them on.

It occurred to Harry that he really shouldn't still be disappointed that Draco was covering his nudity.

“I'm not unfeeling,” Draco muttered, a muscle in his cheek twitching in what Harry knew to be a sign of anger. “I just realize that there are more important things than my own feelings.”

Harry snorted.

“What feelings? No one with feelings pledges to kill the one they claim to love, Malfoy.”

“This isn't about us!” Draco snarled, curling his hands into fists.

“How can it not be?” Harry retorted, barely, just barely, keeping his voice to a civil level.

“Me being who I am, as much as I hate it, and you with that...thing on your arm,” he gestured towards Draco's arm wildly, rapidly feeling his emotions getting the best of him, “on what planet can that not be about us? You can't have both Draco...you have me; or you have Voldemort.”

Draco flinched at - oh, god, his Lord's, his master's - name.

“You're giving me an ultimatum?” Draco asked levelly.

Harry nodded, pressing his lips together tight to hold back a retraction and the pleas that threatened to spill forth.

The seconds seemed to go on for hours as Draco stared hard at the floor as if it would give him an easy answer.

Finally he looked at Harry, his face softening.

“I love you, but this war will involve everybody, and I need to fight for a cause I believe in,” he whispered.

Harry's eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. He didn't know what to feel. Hurt? Angry? Betrayed? Disappointed? Sickened? They were all there somewhere in Harry's mixing pot of emotions, but none seemed to be jumping out as dominant just yet. He supposed it was hard to feel anything but the big gaping hole where his heart used to reside.

Even though his chest tightened, and every fibre of his being screamed at him to stay and try and change Draco's mind, Harry nodded; he didn't trust himself to speak.

It was surprising how little time their conversation had taken. Harry had always supposed that if he and Draco ever broke up, it would be in their usual explosive way and take hours. Not earth-shatteringly, life changingly quick. The sun wasn't fully up yet, and all of the students were still in bed, blissfully unaware of how the proverbial rug had been pulled out from underneath Harry's feet.

As he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, Harry stopped to gaze out of a window overlooking the pathway to the Quidditch stands. It was amazing; only last week, he'd walked that route, and everything had seemed so, not perfect...but hopeful.

And now, now there was nothing. It was over before it had even begun.

* * * *


Foreigner - Cold as Ice
You’re as cold as ice, you’re willing to sacrifice our love
You never take advice, someday you’ll pay the price, I know

I’ve seen it before, it happens all the time
You’re closing the door, you leave the world behind
You’re digging for gold, you’re throwing away
A fortune in feelings, but someday you’ll pay

You’re as cold as ice, you’re willing to sacrifice our love
You want paradise, but someday you’ll pay the price, I know

I’ve seen it before, it happens all the time
You’re closing the door, you leave the world behind
You’re digging for gold, you’re throwing away
A fortune in feelings, but someday you’ll pay

Cold as ice - you know that you are
Cold as ice - as cold as ice to me
Cold as ice

You’re as cold as ice, cold as ice, I know, yes I know
You’re as cold as ice, cold as ice, I know, oh yes I know
You’re as cold as ice, cold as ice, I know, oh yes I know
You’re as cold as ice...