How to Save a Life

The walk back from Hogsmeade proved extremely frustrating for both Harry and Draco.

They had started out walking close in an attempt to recreate the light touches of earlier. However, this time the fates had other ideas - or rather Pansy Parkinson did! She insinuated herself between the two boys, happily linking arms with them both, blissfully unaware of the sexual undercurrent.

Harry tried hard to focus on Pansy’s idle chatter but his thigh still burned from Draco’s earlier touch and his erection showed every sign of becoming a permanent feature.

He looked across to Draco and was relieved to find that the blonde was similarly distracted. His hair was looking increasingly dishevelled as he repeatedly raked his hand through it absent mindedly.

Harry didn’t miss the knowing smirk that Blaise shot in their direction or the sympathetic smile that came from Neville. Pansy, on the other hand, remained completely oblivious.

Harry found time to marvel at how quickly his life was changing. Two months ago he hadn’t even though to question the fact that he was straight. And yet here he was with a raging hard on because Draco Malfoy, his boyfriend, had done nothing more sexual than stroke his leg.

Worldly wise in many ways, Harry was completely inexperienced sexually. His night with George had been as far as he had ever gone with anyone, male or female. The Gryffindor had a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach that Draco had far more experience and would be left disappointed with his amateurish fumblings.

Harry remembered feeling nervous with Ginny. Apart from kissing and some over the clothes touching, they had gone no further. Not from a lack of trying on Ginny’s part Harry reflected. The girl had tried on several occasions to initiate more intimate activities but Harry had always pulled away, racked with insecurity.

And if he had been nervous about sex with girls, which he knew quite a lot of theory about, the thought of sex with boy’s , with Draco, terrified him. Apart from a basic anatomical understanding of what went where, Harry’s knowledge of gay sex was nonexistent.

It wasn’t like he had anyone he could turn to for advice, he reflected bitterly. His parents, Sirius, Remus, they were all gone. Although if Harry was honest, he found the thought of discussing his sex life with any of them slightly disturbing. The only other parental figures that remained were Mr & Mrs Weasley, and the thought of asking them advice on gay sex was, frankly, wrong.

That left him with one possible option – George. Harry figured that he couldn’t really be that squeamish about discussing sex with the red head, not considering what they had done together. And even if it was a little uncomfortable, it would be worth it to please Draco when the time came for them to take their relationship to the next level. Harry determined to write to George as soon as he got back to school.

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Once back at Hogwarts the group of friends went their separate ways, leaving Harry and Draco increasingly frustrated.

Harry cast one last longing look at the retreating back of his boyfriend before following Neville up to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was full of students, all chattering excitedly about their day in Hogsmeade. Harry grinned at the sight of Hermione’s disapproving face as she watched the younger Gryffindor’s gleefully examining their latest Zonkos purchase.

Harry headed up to his bedroom along with Neville. He removed his shrunken shopping bags from his pockets and swiftly resized them. Neville gaped in amazement at the sheer number of them.

“Blimey, Harry, did you leave anything for anyone else?”

Harry smiled ruefully, “You try shopping with Draco, it was like he was possessed and Pansy wasn’t much better.”

Harry began to carefully unpack his purchases and put them away in his wardrobe.

“Apparently my normal clothes are completely hideous and I’m under strict orders to dispose of the lot.”

Neville chuckled at this, “He may have a bit of a point mate. Your cousins cast off’s were never going to set the fashion world alight!”

Harry paused in the middle of hanging his new formal robes and looked curiously at his friend. “When did you become so interested in clothes? You never used to be.”

Neville shrugged, “You’re not the only one dating an image conscious Slytherin. Besides, I’m gay; it’s part of the package.”

Harry looked ruefully down at his baggy worn jeans and scuffed trainers. “It’s not a part that I got,” he commented mournfully.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you, Harry. I’m fairly sure that Malfoy will take care of that side of things for you from now on.”

“I’m not a bloody doll,” Harry huffed, still smarting a little from Draco’s earlier comments about his current clothing.

But then he reflected that Draco hadn’t actually mentioned his clothes until after Harry had already decided that he needed a makeover. Draco had liked him as he was, Dudley’s cast offs and all. Harry had done this with the intention of looking good for his boyfriend, so he couldn’t really get mad that Draco had been a little too enthusiastic.

Harry was brought from his musing by the sound of Seamus entering the room. The Irish boy flopped down on his bed and groaned loudly.

“Next Hogsmeade weekend I’m coming with you guys. I’ve just spend half the day watching Dean and Luna paw each other like love sick puppy’s, and I spend the rest of it listening to that girl ramble on about Blibbering Humdingers, or some such crap. I swear she was doing it on purpose to wind me up!”

Harry and Neville laughed at this, both being only too familiar with Luna’s theories on various mythical creatures. Seamus huffed in indignation.

“Some friends you are, laughing at my misery.” Then, catching sight of the bags on Harry’s bed he sat up, “You went shopping,” he stated, an interested tone creeping into his voice. Seamus clambered off his bed and began rifling through Harry’s purchases.

“Wow, Harry! There’s some really nice stuff in here.” His eyes fell on the pile of Harry’s old clothes and an exaggerated shudder ran through his body, “about time too.”

Harry threw his hands up in mock despair, “Is there anyone in this place who doesn’t think I dress worse than Filch?”

“No one thinks that, Harry. But you’re a good looking lad and this will just give the rest of us a chance to appreciate the body you’ve been hiding under these baggy things.” There was a leer in Seamus’s eyes as they ran slowly the length of Harry’s body.

Neville sensed the green eyed boy’s discomfort and glared at Seamus. “Behave,” he said firmly.

Seamus reluctantly dragged his eyes back up to Harry’s face, “Sorry mate, but I’m only human.”

Harry shrugged it off, not really wanting to dwell on the fact that he was being eyed up by one of his best friends. He watched as the Irish boy went over to the wardrobe and began rummaging through the clothes Harry had already put away, a fanatical gleam in his eye.

Harry shook his head and groaned quietly, “Not you too, Seamus. When did everyone round here become obsessed with clothes?”

Seamus pulled his head back out of the wardrobe for a moment to look at his friend. “I’m bisexual; it comes with the gay genes - and speaking of jeans.” He extracted a pair of inky blue low cut jeans and thrust them in Harry’s direction, “You have to wear these tonight. I bet Malfoy’s eyes would pop out of his head at the sight of you in them.”

Harry froze at his friends words, “Why would Draco care what I wore?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Seamus looked back at him with an amused grin on his face. “Come on, Harry, I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And don’t forget I was there that night in the dungeons when you had your head in his lap.”

Harry struggled to hide the blush that threatened to cover his face and looked helplessly at Neville.

“It’s alright, Harry, I won’t say anything. I’m just a bit gutted that by the time I find out you like boys, you’re already taken! Still, if you ever get tired of snakes and want to try a lion, I’m only in the next bed!”

Harry let out what can only be described as a squeak before disappearing into the bathroom quickly.

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By the time Harry came out of the shower, he found that not only were the jeans laid out on his bed but that they had been joined by a soft black form fitting shirt. Picking them up off the bed, he turned to his two grinning roommates.

“I feel like a bloody Ken doll with everyone dressing me.”

Seamus smirked at this, “If you’re Ken, does that mean Malfoy is Barbie?”

Even Harry had to laugh at the mental image that conjured in his mind. “I wouldn’t let Draco ever hear you say that Seamus, he’s liable to hex you into next week.”

Neville sat watching this with a confused look on his face.

“Don’t worry mate, it’s a muggle thing” Harry explained as he began to pull on his new clothes. As he was buttoning up the shirt, Seamus walked over and stood in front of him, “Leave those bottom couple of buttons undone, Harry,” he advised.

Harry was about to ignore his friends advice when Neville came over too, looking him up and down. “Shay’s right, Harry. Leave the bottom two undone, that way you can just see your stomach.”

Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror, the tight jeans were slung low on his hips and now a flash of toned stomach was visible where his shirt was undone. He felt completely out of his comfort zone and would have given just about anything to pull on one of his old baggy jumpers.

“Why would I want to see my stomach?” he questioned, looking at his friends reflections.

“You might not want to, Harry, but I can think of a certain blonde Slytherin who will more than appreciate it.”

Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks for what must have been the 30th time that day. Muttering something about having a letter to send, he spun on his heel and headed off out of the room.

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When Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening, he knew instantly, without looking, that all eyes had turned to him. He cursed himself for being late. He had struggled for ages to write the brief note he had sent to George and now the whole school was there to watch him as he walked nervously towards the Gryffindor table, dressed in his new clothes.

A rather loud wolf whistle broke the silence that his arrival had created and Harry sank down into his seat at the side of Neville, quietly dying of embarrassment.

“I should never have listened to you,” he glared at his two roommates.

“I don’t see what the problem is, Harry, people are just showing their appreciation of your new look.”

Harry nervously raised his eyes to the rest of the room. They settled on the Hufflepuff table, where a blushing Hannah Abbott was staring at him. She caught Harry’s gaze and smiled nervously at him before turning to Ernie Macmillan and whispering in his ear.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as the Hufflepuff boy turned an appraising look on him and ever so slightly licked his lips.

None of this went unnoticed by Draco, who was sat seething at the Slytherin table plotting nasty ways to punish Ernie for daring to look at Harry that way.

Pansy laughed at the outraged expression on his face and narrowed silver eyes turned to glare at his.

“This is all your fault I hope you realise,” he snapped.

“My fault? How do you work that one out?”

“You’re the one who left that changing room door open so that Hufflepuff bitch could ogle Harry. Now she’s told Macmillan about it and he’s coming on to my boyfriend.”

Pansy made a dismissive noise, “Oh please, Draco. As if Harry has eyes for anyone but you. Does he look like he’s enjoying the attention?”

“No,” Draco admitted reluctantly. “But I don’t like everyone drooling over him.”

“You have to admit he looks hot though.” Draco turned a fierce glare on Blaise at this.

“You keep your eyes on your own Gryffindor, Zabini.”

Despite his annoyance, Draco had to admit to himself that Harry did indeed, look hot. The only thing that he could imagine would look better than his boyfriend in that outfit, would be his boyfriend out of that outfit. With Harry looking like that, Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could restrain himself from ravaging the green eyed boy.

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It was a problem that Draco was still struggling with later that evening when Harry joined him in the Slytherin common room.

He pulled the protesting Gryffindor down on to his lap and curled his arms tightly around Harry’s waist. Harry squirmed in embarrassment at this blatant show of affection; however, it passed uncommented on by the rest of Draco’s friends.

“You know Harry,” Draco whispered in his ear, “You really shouldn’t squirm about on my lap like that.”

To illustrate his point, he arched his hips slightly off the chair so that his erection pressed firmly against Harry’s arse.

“Draco,” Harry gasped quietly, turning round to look at the blonde, eyes wide.

“I can’t help it, Harry, you look so hot in this outfit.” Draco’s hand slid under the front of Harry’s shirt and began lightly caressing his stomach. Harry was forced to bite on his bottom lip to keep from letting a quiet moan escape his mouth.

Draco pressed his lips to the nape of Harry’s neck, kissing and sucking his flesh gently. When his tongue licked up the side of Harry’s neck, the Gryffindor couldn’t prevent the squeak that left his mouth. Pansy looked over and grinned widely at the two boys but the rest of the common room knew better that to upset a Malfoy.

Harry turned in Draco’s lap so that his legs were now hooked over the arm of the chair, almost cradled against the blonde’s chest. Somewhere a voice at the back of his mind was protesting this behaviour, but the feel of Draco’s lips against his own blotted it out. Harry found, that in that brief moment, he didn’t care that they were in the middle of the Slytherin common room, or that he was curled up in Draco’s lap, almost purring like a petted kitten.

When Draco’s lips pulled back, Harry looked up into lust glazed silver eyes and pouted. The blonde chuckled softly at this, a sound that went straight to Harry’s groin.

“Dray,” he whined

“Relax, Harry, we’re not done yet. I just think we should go somewhere a little more private.”

These words brought Harry to the realisation of the position he was in. He looked round nervously at the room’s occupants, hoping that no one had noticed this moment of lust fuelled weakness.

Sensing his boyfriends panic, Draco placed a soft kiss on his neck, just below his earlobe.

“It’s ok, Harry, no one cares what we’re doing and they wouldn’t say anything even if they did. I just want to be alone with you, that’s all.”

Harry nodded mutely and slowly got to his feet. Draco watched for a moment, his eyes lingering on the expanse of toned stomach that Harry’s shirt was displaying. Then the blonde got to his feet and, taking hold of the dark haired boy’s hand, led him towards the boy’s dormitory.

Once inside the bedroom, the two boys’s tumbled onto the bed, Draco nestling between Harry’s parted thighs. Draco moaned when Harry arched his hips up and pressed his hard cock against his own erection.

“I’ve been hard most of the day thanks to you,” Harry whispered in the blonde’s ear. Draco didn’t trust himself to reply, so he leaned down and captured Harry’s pouting lips with his own. His tongue slithered between Harry’s lips, darting in and out of the Gryffindor’s mouth.

Draco rotated his hips against Harry, revelling in the soft moans that escaped those full pink lips. Almost instinctively, Harry’s legs were wrapped around Draco’s waist, pulling their bodies tighter together, making the pressure on their cocks almost unbearable.

Both boy’s had been in a state of constant frustration since Draco’s teasing in the Three Broomsticks. They ground against each other in a shared desperate need for release. Harry’s hands clawed at Draco’s back, fingertips digging in hard, trying desperately to pull the blonde closer still. Draco’s lips were on Harry’s neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

“Oh fuck, Harry, feels so good,” Draco gasped as he felt his boyfriend arch off the bed beneath him.

“So good,” Harry moaned in agreement. Before adding, seconds later, “M’gonna cum Dray.”

Spurred on by his boyfriend’s words, Draco began to thrust frantically against Harry, wanting them to share their release. Draco pulled his head back and fixed his eyes on Harry’s flushed face beneath him, watching in awe as his boyfriend came. His head arched back, eyes dark with passion and Draco’s name on his lips. This sight alone was enough to finish Draco and only seconds later he had his face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck, sobbing his own release.

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Harry woke the next morning to unfamiliar surroundings, but the feel of arms wrapped tight around his waist and the soft flutter of breath against the back of his neck brought the realisation of where he was.

Harry smiled to himself as he snuggled deeper into Draco’s arms, revelling in the feeling of security that overwhelmed him. He glanced down and remembered that he was dressed in a pair of Draco’s pyjamas, silk ones that felt so good against his skin.

He smiled wryly at the irony of the Gryffindor Golden Boy dressed in Slytherin green and curled up to the Slytherin Ice Prince. Though on reflection, Harry couldn’t for the life of him work out how someone as passionate as Draco had ended up with a nickname like that.

The sound of steady breathing awakened Harry to the fact that they were not alone in the room. Looking up he realised that they had not closed the hangings round the bed and he could see Blaise and Theodore Nott sleeping peacefully. Harry found something faintly disturbing about the two empty beds in the room. He knew, by default, that these beds must have belonged to Crabbe and Goyle, but it seemed extremely heartless to leave these reminders to taunt their onetime friends.

He felt Draco stir behind him and lips kissing his neck gently.

“Morning,” the blonde murmured in between kisses.

“Hi,” Harry whispered, somewhat shyly.

“What are you thinking?” Draco’s tongue was now teasing the shell of Harry’s ear.

“I was just wondering if you miss them.” Harry gasped as he felt Draco’s morning erection press against him.

“Who?” Draco asked, confused by the unexpected turn this conversation was taking – he had been hoping for a little morning dirty talk!

“Crabbe and Goyle” Harry replied, wriggling his hips against Draco’s groin.

“Merlin, Harry,” Draco exclaimed as he rolled away from his boyfriend and lay on his back looking up at the canopy of his bed. “You certainly know how to kill the mood. You have my cock rubbing up against you and that’s what you’re thinking about.”

Harry rolled over to face his boyfriend who was now looking sadly at his rapidly disappearing erection.

“I was already thinking that before you started,” Harry replied defensively. “So do you?”

A loud sigh escaped Draco’s lips. “Would you think I was a terrible person if I said no?”

In lieu of an answer, Harry simply brushed his lips lightly against the blondes.

“They were never really my friends, not like Blaise and Pansy are. I knew them from when we were little, but their fathers pushed them towards me. It was this whole Death Eater hierarchy crap. My father was more important than their dad’s, so they used their sons to try and win favour.”

Draco gazed into Harry’s eyes and found himself lost in warm pools of emerald green. Something about the Gryffindor made him just want to bare his soul.

“I lost them a long time ago. As soon as the Malfoy’s fell out of favour with Voldemort, their fathers no longer had any need for me. The association could have been more damaging to their standing instead of beneficial. They weren’t particularly bright, either of them, and they couldn’t see the dangers inherent with following in their father’s footsteps. They didn’t question any of it; they took the mark willingly, gladly in fact. I could have almost felt sorry for them if they hadn’t spent their time spying on me and reporting everything I said back to the Carrow’s.”

Harry caught the look that crossed his boyfriends face and didn’t quite understand the emotion. He knew it wasn’t a good one though, so he leaned down and began raining soft kisses on his lips. He felt Draco’s interest stir again and bravely slid a hand down under to the covers to brush against the blonde’s silk clad erection.

“We should probably draw those hangings,” Draco cautioned. “We wouldn’t want to give Theo a heart attack, or Blaise a cheap thrill for that matter.”

Harry pulled back reluctantly, “I suppose I should go soon too, I haven’t got my cloak with me and I need to sneak back up into the tower. I’d have some explaining to do if I got caught.”

“You should just tell them you were in bed with the Slytherin sex god and couldn’t drag yourself away.”

Harry laughed at this, “Mmm yes, I can just see that working. Somehow I don’t think this was what McGonagall had in mind when she asked me to work on inter house unity.”

Draco let out another groan, “Bloody hell, Harry, are you trying to make me permanently soft. You can’t go talking about the bloody Headmistress while you’re touching my cock. It’s giving me mental images that I don’t even think an obliviate would get rid of.”

Before Harry could respond, a voice from the other side of the dormitory snapped. “I know what you mean; now would you two shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

The two boys sniggered quietly at Theodore’s outrage but did reluctantly stop their pleasant activities. Draco firmly wrapped his arms around Harry who was now snuggled at his side.

“I don’t care if you have your cloak or not, you’ll just have to stay here forever then,” he whispered.

Harry wasn’t sure if it was the feel of Draco’s breath or if it was the thought of forever that sent shivers through his body. But whichever it was, it certainly felt good