Inside Your Mind
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
23,880
Reviews:
130
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
23,880
Reviews:
130
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dreams
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, they are all purely J.K. Rowling’s brilliance.
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Chapter Three – Dreams
The remaining weeks of summer flew by at The Burrow. Days filled with de-gnoming gardens, eating Mrs. Weasley’s wonderful meals, and just spending time with the people he really cared about. He and Draco continuously spoke to each other through their weird link, and both agreed to ask Dumbledore about it when they returned to Hogwarts. After all, it wasn’t every day a mental link was forged between people that were thought to hate each other. Although, it was certain to the two boys that they no longer hated each other. Both could be found wondering what their relationship with the other would be like once school resumed, and both wished their new-found friendship would last. They found that they enjoyed talking to the other, though neither would admit the extent of this particular enjoyment.
A brilliantly sunny morning at the beginning of September found Potter standing by his trunk, pondering what to wear the day he was to return to Hogwarts. I’m going to see Malfoy on the train, he reminded himself, and promptly picked out a green shirt he knew accented the startling color of his eyes, and black pants that were a bit tighter than usual. Once he realized what he had just done, he quickly reasoned that it certainly wasn’t for Draco, it was simply that he wanted to make a good impression on everyone. Yea right, a voice said in the back of his mind. You like Malfoy! the voice said gleefully. Go away, Harry ordered the voice, ignoring that taunting of his sub-conscious all the way down to breakfast.
“Harry, you look great!” Hermione exclaimed when Harry entered the room. “I know just the thing to complete it.” The witch jumped out of her seat and went to stand in front of Harry. She removed his glasses and said a few Latin words he didn’t recognize, but he realized his vision was suddenly crystal-clear. “What was that?” he asked. “Just a simple vision-repairing spell. You look so much better without your glasses, I thought it might be nice.”
He looked into the mirror, and was pleasantly surprised by the results. He did look good. “Thanks, Mione, you’re the best!” He bent down to give his brilliant best friend a hug. “You’re welcome.” Hermione replied happily, rather pleased with her spellwork.
They ate breakfast in companionable silence, with Mrs. Weasley’s occasional input on how Harry and Hermione should eat more. There was no need for this commentary to be directed to Ron, seeing as he already ate enough to feed a small army. Then there were trunks to be packed, which always resulted in chaos in the Weasley home. Finally, everyone was ready to go, and they headed to the station.
Moments after they had boarded the train and found an empty compartment, Malfoy and his brainless companions found their way into their area. :Wow: was the sudden, simultaneous breathless statement found in the minds of both boys. Both blushed, knowing that the other had felt the appreciation of their appearances. While Harry’s form screamed fire, Draco’s whispered ice. They were entranced by the differences in each other. Harry found himself wondering how much emotion those silver eyes would show if he were kissing him, memorizing the smooth, pale work of art that was Draco. The blond caught a bit of this thought, and simply raised an eyebrow at Harry. The raven-haired boy blushed, making Malfoy grin.
Ron and Hermione were watching this exchange, Ron with a bewildered expression, and Hermione with a knowing smile and shining eyes. She cleared her throat gently, breaking the handsome boys from their trance. With a grin and a raise of her eyebrows, she had both blushing a shade that could have rivaled the color of Ron’s hair.
:Well, there goes our chance to hide under the pretense that we still hate each other.: said Harry wryly.
Draco laughed and replied :It’s just as well. I’m rather tired of pretending I dislike you, seeing as my recent thoughts of you involve things a hell of a lot more pleasurable than hexing you.:
Harry smirked at the implication. The stunned Ron finally managed to get some words out. “Malfoy, why are you in our compartment?”
“Because I want to be, Weasley.” Draco snapped, and sat down, motioning to Crabbe and Goyle that it was okay to leave him alone with them.
Ron looked at his two best friends. “And why aren’t we kicking him out?”
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes. “Because we don’t want to kick him out.”
“But it’s Malfoy!” was the response. “Why don’t we want to kick him out?”
“Drop it.” warned Harry. “Fine” Ron mumbled, “but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna talk to him.” he said immaturely.
“Fine with me,” the Slytherin replied scathingly.
The rest of the ride was completed in silence, Harry and Draco chatting about quidditch in their heads, being that they were too lazy to open their mouths to communicate when they could just think, Hermione reading, and Ron staring stubbornly out the window, keeping true to his promise of not talking.
Their arrival at Hogwarts forced them to go their separate ways, albeit reluctantly. Harry lay in the darkness of his dorm room, and fell asleep thinking about the moment between him and Malfoy on the train.
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Harry gasped as the sexy Slytherin licked a path down his body, stopping to dip his tongue into Harry’s navel. The raven-haired teen bucked as the heavenly mouth found its destination at last, taking him into his mouth completely. Sensations that Harry hadn’t even known existed came over him, making him grab the sheets so tightly that they practically ripped. He let one hand get tangled in the silver-blonde hair of the owner of that skilled tongue, simultaneously wishing it could go on forever and wishing Draco would go faster so his body could get it’s much needed release.
A load groan escaped him the Slytherin’s tongue moved faster, and he knew that he couldn’t hold out much longer. As the boy with the silver eyes took all of Harry into his mouth, he came crying the name of his pleasurer. “Draco!”
Harry woke with a start, the echo of Draco’s name sounding in his head. Okay, that was weird…I wonder if Draco’s that talented in person…No!! Must get rid of bad thoughts! He hit his head repeatedly, trying to force the image of how sexy and erotic Draco had looked as he looked into Harry’s eyes while making him come. He was immensely greatful that he had gotten into the habit of putting silencing spells on his bed ainsains due to his nightmares of Voldemort from fifth year, for he was sure he had moaned out loud in his sleep. Who wouldn’t have, dreaming about something that felt that good. He mentally slapped himself for still thinking about how great the whole thing hadn, kn, knowing it was useless. The pleasure of the dream would plague him for hours. I need help, he signed resignedly, and headed to the showers. Little did he know, a certain blonde was smirking appreciatively in the Slytherin common room.
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Well, this isn’t what I expected of my first day back at Hogwarts. Potter having erotic dreams about me…how incredibly…sexy. He would have tried to push this somewhat unwanted thought from his mind, but he knew it was futile. Thoughts of Potter would invade his mind, regardless of his level of mental resistance, no matter how fake that resistance might very well be. Appreciation of Potter’s apparent appreciation of him spread through his body,, but he decided to leave the merciless taunting Harry was going to receive until that day’s Potion class, where it would have the most effect on Potter’s composure.
He headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and upon entering he sat down with his fellow Slytherins. Truth be told, he rather disliked them all, and their family’s seeming willingness to serve one person, Voldemort. He personally thought Voldemort was crazy, in spite of Lucius’s endless admiration of the dark wizard. However, he had no intention of letting any Slytherins know this, seeing as he did not want to have to worry about someone trying to off him in his sleep. Although, he was currently trying to come up with a plan to avoid getting initiated as a Death Eater, something he had the feeling his father was planning to spring on him sometime in the near future. I mean, the wizarding world is at war, and Father, of course, expects that I am fully supportive of the dark side. Never mind what his father would think if he knew that the son of one of the most prominent Death Eaters had a crush on the bloody Boy Who Will Not Die. He snorted at the expression he suspected would grace his father’s face if he ever found out that tidbit of information, then quickly sobered as he imagined the beating his father would give him. No need for that. I have to stop thinking about Potter. From the amount of time he occupies my thoughts, one would think I’m in love with him or something. Draco smirked at this, despite the disturbing fact that this thought actually didn’t seem all that crazy to him. It was better to lie to himself than to admit what could be his weakness.
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Chapter Three – Dreams
The remaining weeks of summer flew by at The Burrow. Days filled with de-gnoming gardens, eating Mrs. Weasley’s wonderful meals, and just spending time with the people he really cared about. He and Draco continuously spoke to each other through their weird link, and both agreed to ask Dumbledore about it when they returned to Hogwarts. After all, it wasn’t every day a mental link was forged between people that were thought to hate each other. Although, it was certain to the two boys that they no longer hated each other. Both could be found wondering what their relationship with the other would be like once school resumed, and both wished their new-found friendship would last. They found that they enjoyed talking to the other, though neither would admit the extent of this particular enjoyment.
A brilliantly sunny morning at the beginning of September found Potter standing by his trunk, pondering what to wear the day he was to return to Hogwarts. I’m going to see Malfoy on the train, he reminded himself, and promptly picked out a green shirt he knew accented the startling color of his eyes, and black pants that were a bit tighter than usual. Once he realized what he had just done, he quickly reasoned that it certainly wasn’t for Draco, it was simply that he wanted to make a good impression on everyone. Yea right, a voice said in the back of his mind. You like Malfoy! the voice said gleefully. Go away, Harry ordered the voice, ignoring that taunting of his sub-conscious all the way down to breakfast.
“Harry, you look great!” Hermione exclaimed when Harry entered the room. “I know just the thing to complete it.” The witch jumped out of her seat and went to stand in front of Harry. She removed his glasses and said a few Latin words he didn’t recognize, but he realized his vision was suddenly crystal-clear. “What was that?” he asked. “Just a simple vision-repairing spell. You look so much better without your glasses, I thought it might be nice.”
He looked into the mirror, and was pleasantly surprised by the results. He did look good. “Thanks, Mione, you’re the best!” He bent down to give his brilliant best friend a hug. “You’re welcome.” Hermione replied happily, rather pleased with her spellwork.
They ate breakfast in companionable silence, with Mrs. Weasley’s occasional input on how Harry and Hermione should eat more. There was no need for this commentary to be directed to Ron, seeing as he already ate enough to feed a small army. Then there were trunks to be packed, which always resulted in chaos in the Weasley home. Finally, everyone was ready to go, and they headed to the station.
Moments after they had boarded the train and found an empty compartment, Malfoy and his brainless companions found their way into their area. :Wow: was the sudden, simultaneous breathless statement found in the minds of both boys. Both blushed, knowing that the other had felt the appreciation of their appearances. While Harry’s form screamed fire, Draco’s whispered ice. They were entranced by the differences in each other. Harry found himself wondering how much emotion those silver eyes would show if he were kissing him, memorizing the smooth, pale work of art that was Draco. The blond caught a bit of this thought, and simply raised an eyebrow at Harry. The raven-haired boy blushed, making Malfoy grin.
Ron and Hermione were watching this exchange, Ron with a bewildered expression, and Hermione with a knowing smile and shining eyes. She cleared her throat gently, breaking the handsome boys from their trance. With a grin and a raise of her eyebrows, she had both blushing a shade that could have rivaled the color of Ron’s hair.
:Well, there goes our chance to hide under the pretense that we still hate each other.: said Harry wryly.
Draco laughed and replied :It’s just as well. I’m rather tired of pretending I dislike you, seeing as my recent thoughts of you involve things a hell of a lot more pleasurable than hexing you.:
Harry smirked at the implication. The stunned Ron finally managed to get some words out. “Malfoy, why are you in our compartment?”
“Because I want to be, Weasley.” Draco snapped, and sat down, motioning to Crabbe and Goyle that it was okay to leave him alone with them.
Ron looked at his two best friends. “And why aren’t we kicking him out?”
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes. “Because we don’t want to kick him out.”
“But it’s Malfoy!” was the response. “Why don’t we want to kick him out?”
“Drop it.” warned Harry. “Fine” Ron mumbled, “but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna talk to him.” he said immaturely.
“Fine with me,” the Slytherin replied scathingly.
The rest of the ride was completed in silence, Harry and Draco chatting about quidditch in their heads, being that they were too lazy to open their mouths to communicate when they could just think, Hermione reading, and Ron staring stubbornly out the window, keeping true to his promise of not talking.
Their arrival at Hogwarts forced them to go their separate ways, albeit reluctantly. Harry lay in the darkness of his dorm room, and fell asleep thinking about the moment between him and Malfoy on the train.
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Harry gasped as the sexy Slytherin licked a path down his body, stopping to dip his tongue into Harry’s navel. The raven-haired teen bucked as the heavenly mouth found its destination at last, taking him into his mouth completely. Sensations that Harry hadn’t even known existed came over him, making him grab the sheets so tightly that they practically ripped. He let one hand get tangled in the silver-blonde hair of the owner of that skilled tongue, simultaneously wishing it could go on forever and wishing Draco would go faster so his body could get it’s much needed release.
A load groan escaped him the Slytherin’s tongue moved faster, and he knew that he couldn’t hold out much longer. As the boy with the silver eyes took all of Harry into his mouth, he came crying the name of his pleasurer. “Draco!”
Harry woke with a start, the echo of Draco’s name sounding in his head. Okay, that was weird…I wonder if Draco’s that talented in person…No!! Must get rid of bad thoughts! He hit his head repeatedly, trying to force the image of how sexy and erotic Draco had looked as he looked into Harry’s eyes while making him come. He was immensely greatful that he had gotten into the habit of putting silencing spells on his bed ainsains due to his nightmares of Voldemort from fifth year, for he was sure he had moaned out loud in his sleep. Who wouldn’t have, dreaming about something that felt that good. He mentally slapped himself for still thinking about how great the whole thing hadn, kn, knowing it was useless. The pleasure of the dream would plague him for hours. I need help, he signed resignedly, and headed to the showers. Little did he know, a certain blonde was smirking appreciatively in the Slytherin common room.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, this isn’t what I expected of my first day back at Hogwarts. Potter having erotic dreams about me…how incredibly…sexy. He would have tried to push this somewhat unwanted thought from his mind, but he knew it was futile. Thoughts of Potter would invade his mind, regardless of his level of mental resistance, no matter how fake that resistance might very well be. Appreciation of Potter’s apparent appreciation of him spread through his body,, but he decided to leave the merciless taunting Harry was going to receive until that day’s Potion class, where it would have the most effect on Potter’s composure.
He headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and upon entering he sat down with his fellow Slytherins. Truth be told, he rather disliked them all, and their family’s seeming willingness to serve one person, Voldemort. He personally thought Voldemort was crazy, in spite of Lucius’s endless admiration of the dark wizard. However, he had no intention of letting any Slytherins know this, seeing as he did not want to have to worry about someone trying to off him in his sleep. Although, he was currently trying to come up with a plan to avoid getting initiated as a Death Eater, something he had the feeling his father was planning to spring on him sometime in the near future. I mean, the wizarding world is at war, and Father, of course, expects that I am fully supportive of the dark side. Never mind what his father would think if he knew that the son of one of the most prominent Death Eaters had a crush on the bloody Boy Who Will Not Die. He snorted at the expression he suspected would grace his father’s face if he ever found out that tidbit of information, then quickly sobered as he imagined the beating his father would give him. No need for that. I have to stop thinking about Potter. From the amount of time he occupies my thoughts, one would think I’m in love with him or something. Draco smirked at this, despite the disturbing fact that this thought actually didn’t seem all that crazy to him. It was better to lie to himself than to admit what could be his weakness.