Here & Now

Chapter Three

Flashback ~ August 1997

The child has a sweet little cherub like face and chubby fingers that grasp at Harry’s desperately. He looks lost and frightened.

Harry allows him self to be led away from the safety of Diagon Alley’s worn-down cobblestones so that the child can show him where he last saw his parents. It’s not until they turn a corner that leads into Nocturne Alley that Harry starts to feel apprehensive.

Suddenly, eight figures, beetle-black, bleed out of the shadows and surround him. The child immediately pulls away and leaps into the waiting arms of the nearest Death Eater. Harry watches in disbelief as the child is petted and praised, in a most affectionate manner, by the masked wizard.

He wastes no further time on his shock, and pulls out his wand; eyes blazing green hate and teeth exposed as he growls incantations. He dodges curses with a sinuous dexterity that surprises his foe. He manages to immobilize four of the eight Death Eaters before being disarmed and restrained in a full body bind.

His last recollection is of a smooth white mask looming-large and a voice as sharp as blades, the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

‘Mr Potter, I’m impressed. I’m also very surprise to find you in this seedy little underbelly of the wizarding world that we call Nocturne Alley?’

Harry looses consciousness as Lucius pulls his helpless body into his arms.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Harry wakes to the barely audible sound of a door opening and closing.

The room is bitterly cold, and a fetid smell permeates the air. He is curled up in a ball on the floor with his back against what feels like stone and for a moment he as no recollection of how he as come to be here.

Then he recalls the child and berates himself for his overly trusting nature.

He sits up slowly; his body oddly numb, his movements stifled. His eyes grow accustomed to the dark and for the first time he notices a shadowed figure, sitting in a chair, in the centre of the room. The rest of his surroundings are blanketed in darkness. His entire being is focused on the figure as it slowly uncurls and becomes the long and slender form of Lucius Malfoy.

Harry also stands. Rising is arduous and his head spins. He feels heavy and sluggish and he flails clumsily before Malfoy’s icy stare. His wand is not where it should be and this causes him momentary panic.

His feelings must play blatantly across his face because Lucius laughs. Harry forces his expression blank, he as no intention of being the source of Malfoy’s amusement.

Lucius reaches into his robes and pulls out Harry’s wand and Harry instantly casts a wandless disarming spell. Nothing happens and Lucius laughs again, louder this time.

‘Oh please, do you really think I don’t know about your special abilities, boy. As a precaution this room is dampening any magic save my own.\'

Harry slumps and slides down the wall till his arse hits the floor. Now he knows why he feels so laden. Magical dampeners. He can actually feel them, like invisible constraints around his core and a led choker around his neck. His wand would be of no use to him even in the palm of his hand. He’d accomplish more, gagged and tied, in a cage.

Lucius looks down at the boy and smiles.

When he speaks, each word is measured first and then carefully pronounced in velvet tones and each sentence is punctuated by a weighty pause; it makes Harry feel inexplicably captivated and repulsed at the same time.

‘Harry. Harry Potter. I know everything about you. You haven’t so much as drawn in breath, in the last six years, without me knowing of it.’

‘Ferret?’

Harry cannot help but spit out the word.

‘Ah. That would be a reference to my son and sole heir, would it not?’ asks Lucius with obvious amusement. ‘No, not my little Dragon, he’s had other preoccupations. Besides’, Lucius sighs, ‘I’m afraid my son is rather alarmingly emotive with regards to matters concerning you. I needed an impartial observer. And believe me there were plenty willing to divulge information about the ‘Boy who Lived’ in exchange for a place at my side.’

‘Don’t you mean Voldemort’s side?’ Harry hisses the name as though it is a vile expletive.

Lucius chuckles and leans closer to Harry’s hunched body.

‘There are things that I feel you should know about Lord Voldemort, Harry. After all, you are the supposed Saviour of the Wizarding World.\'

Harry’s pale face is grasped between slender fingers. He his forced to look up into his captors face, and therefore unable to hide his obvious curiosity.

Lucius Malfoy speaks, and Harry listens. The planets shift, stars collide and, with the utterance of a few carefully chosen words, destinies change.

~End flashback ~Present Day~ June 2004

Harry places a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses across his lover’s abdomen. His eyes do not stray from Draco’s; green and silver orbs are locked in silent challenge.

He as been licking, sucking and biting Draco’s body for over an hour now, but his lover lies wilfully tight lipped beneath him, his delicate features set in stern disapproval. But Harry knows that if it were not for the spell he is using to prevent orgasm his lover would have lost control by now.

But longevity is not the challenge.

Harry loves it when Draco begs; begs for Harry’s mouth, Harry’s cock, Harry’s arse. Begs for his own release. But Malfoy’s do not beg, and therein lies the challenge.

He makes quite a picture, Harry muses as he watches Draco desperately try to control him self; the wild look in his heavily lidded eyes and the light sheen of sweat on his forehead and chest are a strong indication of the war raging within, despite his stubborn silence.

He is stretched out on Ox Blood silk sheets, alabaster thighs splayed and shaking. His hard cock, which Harry refuses to touch, pulses and leaks pre-cum onto his stomach. Harry dips his head and takes great delight in cleaning it away with a swipe of his tongue. This causes Draco to expel a barely audible gasp, mouth stretched wide and Harry hums in delight as he savours the taste.

‘Did you say something, gorgeous?’ He purrs sweetly.

Draco merely glares and purses his lips.

Harry sits up and looks down at the blonde, thoughtfully.

‘Draco, you’re cock is so hard, and such a beautifully bruised colour’ he grins wickedly ‘you must be dying to come. Does it hurt terribly?’

Draco growls and yanks violently at the chains that keep him shackled to the bedposts.

‘I’m going to rip your throat out when you let me go you little fucker’ he curses, teeth bared.

‘Now, now Dray’, Harry waggles a finger, ‘saying things like that is not going to win you your freedom.’

Harry dips his head once again, opens his mouth and breathes hot breath onto the weeping cock. Draco cries out and arches his body, unable to stop his hips from thrusting forward in an attempt to penetrate the wet heat of Harry’s mouth. But the evil little imp moves his mouth a fraction out of reach and smirks, and all Draco can do is watch helpless, mesmerised by the tip of Harry’s tongue licking his parted lips barely centimetres from Draco’s swollen flesh.

Harry cannot prevent his own body from responding to the harsh cry of longing. He is getting hard for the third time in an hour and he hopes that he can break Draco before he has to wank again. Although having Draco watch with hot, angry eyes as he pleasured him self was definitely gratifying.

Draco concentrates on his breathing and settles back down onto the silk sheets once more. He stares at the ceiling purposely, refusing to looking at the little devil between his thighs. The last time he’d tried to ignore Harry, he’d succeeded for a full ten minutes, until the sound of soft panting had drawn his eyes away from the heavens and down to the spectacle of Harry thrusting into his own hand, cheeks red and pink tongue wetting his lips as he devoured Draco’s body with his eyes.

He’d caught Draco’s gaze, eyes dazed, and Draco had been unable to stop shaking as he watched Harry throw back his head, cry out his pleasure and come all over his stomach.

Rather than look embarrassed by his wanton display, Harry had shot him a sweet smile, cleaned the rapidly drying mess off Draco stomach, and without missing a beat proceeded to tease him mercilessly with the tips of his fingers. It was amazing how many sensitive nerves endings those nimble little fingers were able seek out and torture Draco thinks crossly as he concentrates fiercely on the ceiling.

Two minutes later Harry is huffing softly and Draco knows what this means. But he isn’t going to look this time, isn’t going to watch the little bastard fuck his own hand while he lies unsatisfied. Isn’t.

He counts to twenty in French. He counts to twenty in Elvish. And the distraction of the complicated Elvish numbers successfully dampens his arousal. But then the huffing suddenly becomes a low continuous moan that speaks to his cock so sweetly that he finally as no choice but to look down. And sure enough Harry is touching himself again. This time Harry is watching his face closely as he pulls at his cock and Draco’s resolve cracks into a thousand and one shards of need. He buckles spectacularly.

‘What do you want?’ he whispers urgently.

Harry pulls his hand away from his erection, with obvious reluctance, and leans forward eyes gleaming.

‘Tell me a secret.’

Draco stares at Harry, apprehensive.

‘A secret?”

“Yes, something about yourself that I don’t know.’

‘And then you’ll put your mouth on me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, ok, ahh…’ Draco desperately tries to think but Harry’s mouth is close to his cock again. ‘Er… I stole one of your Gryffindor scarves in sixth year and wore it to bed until I found out about your drunken fuck with Creevy…’

Harry looks more than a little shocked at this revelation.

‘… And set fire to it in a fit of jealous rage.’

‘Really’.

‘Yes, now wrap that beautiful mouth around my cock before I die’.

‘No, I’ve decided that I’m not going to suck you, I’m going to ride you till you scream’ Harry states matter-of-factly and Draco closes his eyes trying to control the desire that the image provokes.

‘But first’ Harry continues ‘you have to promise me something.’

‘Anything’, Draco says intensely and his inner Slytherin cringes at his eager and blind agreement.

‘You have to be here tonight, when I tell ‘mione and Ron about us.’

‘Fuck off.’

The curse is out of his mouth before he can stop it and he watches horrified as Harry backs away.

‘Oh kaaaay’ Harry says in a singsong voice, retreating to the end of the bed.

‘Get your skinny arse back here Potter’, Draco yells, frantic.

‘My arse is not skinny it’s pert and lovely, look,’

Harry turns his back to Draco and rises to his knees. He wiggles his bottom, gazes over his shoulder and winks before slowly bending forward till he rests on his hands and knees, slender back arched, legs parted, ruthlessly exposing himself to his shackled lover.

Draco groans and strains against the manacles till his wrists sting.

Harry laughs, sits on his heels and pulls a vial from beneath the covers. Anticipation causes his breathing to hitch slightly, as he un-stoppers the vial and pours the oily substance onto his index finger.

He deftly tucks the vial away and leans forward slightly, ensuring that his rapt audience has a perfect view, as he places the tip of his finger close to his opening.

‘I don’t need you to fuck me Draco’, he murmurs softly, ‘I want you to, but I don’t need you to. I’m more than happy to fuck my self with my fingers till I come.\'

As he speaks his finger sinks slowly into his puckered entrance. A gasp from Draco urges him on. Knowing that it is Draco behind him, watching him perform such an indecent and intimate act upon his own body is incredibly arousing.

Draco watches the finger, it is slick, and twists before disappear into Harry’s body.

‘Ok fuck\', Draco cries out, agonised, ‘you win I’ll be there when you tell Weasley and his women.’

His inner Slytherin almost dies of shame but consoles itself with thoughts of revenge.

Harry, meanwhile, is delighted. He scampers over Draco’s body like an eager puppy and lowers himself onto the rigid cock with a speed that takes Draco’s breath away.

It feels like heaven to Draco, friction and heat. But the pleasure is muted by his inability to come and he begs Harry to end the torment.

Harry’s eyes roll back as he hears Draco beg him to let him come, begs him to keep fucking himself onto his needy cock, the cock that is brushing his prostate with every self inflicted thrust.

Harry looks into his lovers beautiful face and whispers, ‘Come for me Draco’, verbally releasing him from the spell.

The world explodes behind Draco’s eyelids as he pours into Harry’s willing body, and he loses his mind to the sound of Harry crying out his own release.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Draco is floating on a wave of pure euphoria and judging by the look on Harry’s face he’s not alone. But Draco pushes aside his elation with a resolve born of retribution. He watches slyly as Harry casts a cleaning charm on them both and unlocks the restraints. He waits patently until Harry finishes his task and looks his way with a satisfied smile.

‘You’d better run potter’, he says calmly, with a voice that could cut through steel.

Harry smile falters; he knows danger when it’s glowering, and advancing on him.

Harry’s brain stutters and sparks, and he runs, one extremely vengeful Malfoy at his heels.

He makes it down the impressive main staircase, through his study and to the hidden staircase behind his desk at break neck speed. It’s not until he reaches the top step that he realises his lover is no longer chasing him.

The house is dark and silent and Harry suddenly feels the chill of the night air on his naked flesh.

He heads back to the study, deciding that if this is a trap then he’s quite happy to walk into it and accept his punishment.

‘Giving up so…’

Harry stops dead, mid-step and mid-sentence.

Draco is standing by Harry’s desk. He looks pensive; his forehead slightly creased.

Ron and Hermione are standing by the fireplace, dusty and alert. They are pointing their wands at Draco’s creased forehead.

Ron has a copy of the Daily Prophet clenched in the fingers of his left hand. Hermione is valiantly trying not to look at Draco’s naked body.

Predictably, Ron is the first to break the silence.

‘What the bloody fucking heeeeeellll’, the ‘hell’ is a long drawn out wail.

Harry quickly grabs a cushion off one of the sofas and hides his ‘shame’.

Draco rolls his eyes and makes for the door but Harry catches his arm and pulls him back.

‘Oh no, no, no, you’re not going anywhere.’

‘They’re your friends Harry’. Draco’s voice is tense.

‘Yes but we’re in this together remember.’

Draco looks at the door wistfully.

‘You promised Draco,’

‘I hardly think that you can hold me to that promise; you were ruthlessly refusing to suck my cock at the time.’

Ron makes a creepy screeching noise in the back of his throat. Draco and Harry ignore him.

‘A promise is a promise Draco.’

Draco growls, ‘I told Severus on my own.’

‘I would have told him with you if you’d asked.’

‘No you wouldn’t have.’

‘Yes I would have.’

‘No you wouldn’t have.’

‘Yes I would have.’

‘I doubt it, I told him almost two years ago.’

Harry stares at Draco, stunned, Snape has known about their relationship from the very beginning? This is one of the scary gaps in knowledge that Draco keeps filling in at very inopportune moments, ruthlessly knocking Harry off balance.

‘Gentlemen please’. Hermione begs.

Draco sighs, walks back into the room totally unabashed at his nakedness, and sits behind Harry’s desk.

Hermione puts her wand away. Ron, however, does not; it is still directed at Draco’s head. Draco looks totally unconcerned and starts rifling through Harry’s desk drawers.

‘Ron, put your wand away’, Hermione hisses and sits primly in one of the Queen Anne chairs by the fireplace.

Ron stares at Harry. Harry stares back at Ron and smiles; it is a wobbly smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Ron looks highly pained but he puts his wand away.

The room is excruciatingly quiet apart from the sound of Draco rummaging though Harry’s personal papers. ‘Hey, a chocolate frog’. he suddenly coos.

Hermione and Ron exchange shocked looks. Harry doesn’t blame them; ‘publicly relaxed Draco’ is not a regular occurrence. Ron and Hermione have most definitely never seen Draco smile never mind get excited about a chocolate frog whilst lounging naked in a chair.

His casual manner is endearing but Harry can see that Draco’s right hands is holding onto the arm of the chair a little to tightly for nonchalance. Harry is amazed every time he notices something like this about Draco. He wonders how many subtle revealing mannerisms he missed when they were at school together, not to mention the last two years of their relationship.

How many times as Draco hidden his true feelings behind detached arrogance?

‘I wouldn’t eat that if I were you. It’s been there awhile’, Harry tells him with a fond smile.

Draco looks crest-fallen and tosses it into the bin.

Harry looks over at his two best friends. Hermione is looking at him expectantly. Ron looks about ready to explode.

‘How long Harry?’ Hermione asks with a pained expression.

Harry looks thoughtful, ‘About a year, I forgot it was there’, Harry says mildly, ‘I don’t suppose chocolate really goes off anyway.’

‘It does’ says Draco knowingly ‘it goes a funny white colour.’

Ron shoots up out of his chair and stamps his foot surprising everyone, including himself.

‘You know very well that Hermione referring to this… this… this…’, unable to complete the sentence Ron waves his arm violently between Harry and Draco’s naked torso’s.

Harry looks Ron in the eyes, he owes him that much.

‘Just over two years, mate.’

And Ron does explode. It’s spectacular. His flame red hair practically stands on end and he suddenly seems even taller than his impressive six foot two stature.

‘Harry, are you fucking insane? For the love of Merlin that’s Draco Malfoy. He’s a bastard, we hate him’, he cries out passionately, ‘we hate him violently’.

Ron grasps hold of Harry’s bare shoulders and shakes him till his teeth chatter. Draco’s is jump out of his chair but Hermione suddenly looms over him, wand in his face.

‘Let them be?’ She whispers urgently.

Little choice left he sinks back into the chair and watchers the pantomime play out before him.

Ron has finally let go of Harry’s shoulders but his rant continues.

‘Draco Malfoy, Harry? Don’t you remember how we use to plot his slow and painful demise whilst skinning shrivel figs in dentition; dentations, might I remind you, that were always his fault’ he shouts, thrusting a finger in Draco’s directions.

‘We must of thought up at least a thousands deaths for the little shit.’

Hermione seems scandalised at this piece of information. Draco appears quite perturbed and Harry as the decency to look shamefaced.

‘He was a pointless little git, the bane of our existence. He use to stalk you till it drove you insane; well, now I know why. Little freak was perving on you all along. I knew it’, he yelled finally turning on Draco.

‘What are up to Malfoy? Why are you really with Harry?’

‘Because I like the way he looks standing next to me Weasley, its an aesthetics issue which, looking the way you do, must be hard for you to understand.\'

‘Draco’, Harry warns quietly.

‘What? Come on Harry you have to admit we look fucking hot together.’

Harry looks extremely annoyed but Hermione nods in agreement which causes Draco to grin at her mischievously. Ron, incensed by the little exchange between his wife and his childhood enemy, glares at the blonde.

‘Don’t you smile at her you fucker, she a Mudblood remember’, he snarls viciously causing Hermione to draw in a sharp breath. Draco pales visibly and looks down at the desk.

And this time the silence is horrific.

Ron suddenly slumps, totally defeated. He looks at Hermione, who is biting her lip in an attempt to fend off tears. He sighs tiredly and moves towards the window, opens the curtains, and gasps.

Both Harry and Draco scream ‘No’ but they are to late. Draco leaps forward and Ron cowers away from the naked blonde hurtling towards him as a sea of eager faces on the other side of the windowpane watch avidly. He watchers in horror as Draco grabs the edges of the curtain and pulls them closed.

‘What the fu…’

‘Fans’, interrupts Draco sourly.

‘Oh shit’ says Hermione, emphatically.

‘Yes, oh shit, Mrs Weasley’, Draco agrees, ‘Your husband is about to be plastered over the front cover of every wizarding newspaper and magazine with a very naked Draco Malfoy standing at his side. Probably with some inane headline like ORGIE AT POTTER/MALFOY LOVE NEST.

Hermione looks sympathetically at Harry, who is peering out from his hiding place beside the grandfather clock. She knows how much he hates the media attention, ‘Are they here to congratulate you, or to lynch you?’

‘We don’t know’. Harry says quietly.

Hermione looks from Harry to the Draco, questioningly.

‘We haven’t left that house since it came out’ Harry explains.

‘You’re hiding’.

‘No, we’re on holiday’ Harry sings out in what he hopes is a carefree tone, but in reality he sounds like a strangled Kneazle.

‘You’re hiding’, Hermione states with absolute conviction.

‘Actually we’ve been busy rutting each other into oblivion for the last five days’, says Draco, rushing to Harry’s aid.

Harry wishes he hadn’t. Hermione turns pig pink Ron; toad green; it’s not attractive in the least.

There is an uncomfortable silence and Draco uses it to ask ‘How long is this going to take Harry, I’m hungry?’

‘Right’, Hermione says briskly, ‘this is what we do, we go and eat and discuss this amicably over dinner’. The amicably is thrown mercilessly in Ron direction.

‘You mean go out?’ Harry asks fearfully. ‘To where?’

‘An eating establishment dummy’.

‘Where there are people’. Harry looks aghast.

Draco eyes Harry speculatively, ‘he’s been like this all week, refusing to leave the house.’

Hermione sighs ‘Come on Harry where is your Gryffindor bravery.’

‘Hiding behind my Slytherin caution’, he quips and Draco gives him another speculative look.

‘Ah ha, the key word being; hiding’, Hermione says with relish.

‘We could apparate’ Ron offers, suddenly more than amicable. Not even eleven years of hatred can get in the way of Ronald Bilius Weasley filling his stomach.

Harry frowns. ‘No we can’t, my wards are too strong, Albus and Minerva set them together and I’ve never changed them.’ He doesn’t add that he never intends to. He feel comforted by the knowledge that there is a little bit of Albus floating around, even if only in the essence of magic.

Everyone stands in pensive silence for a moment.

‘What about the floo’ Draco asks.

‘Compromise the floo?’ Harry gasps with a horrified expression.

‘Compromise the floo?’ questions Draco, worried. He as made a serious faux pas judging by the look of shock on Harry’s face.

‘Only Ron, Remus, Snape and I have access,’ Hermione explained.

Draco’s expression sours at the mention of the werewolf but he remains quiet and Hermione continues.

‘Harry’s had some pretty hair-raising experience with… erm…admirers hacking (for want of a better word) into Harry’s floo system. We had to integrate the access with the wards that surround the Manor, it’s all quite complex’.

‘Ok’, says Draco, coming to a decision, ‘I’m going to go and kick a house-elf around the kitchen till it makes us some dinner’.

And with that Draco struts out of the door. Hermione is halfway out of her seat before Harry says, ‘relax ‘mione. You know that I don’t have any house-elves, he’s just being a brat.\'

‘What? You mean Malfoy’s going to cook?’ Ron asks in an awed whisper.

Harry almost chokes on his own tongue at the mere idea of Draco cooking.

‘I’m stocked up to the rafters with Honeydukes finest’, he tells his best friends.

‘Ah, so chocolate frogs for dinner again’, Hermione says resignedly, but Ron looks extremely relieved, apparently the idea of a domesticated Draco Malfoy is too much for Ron’s already rattled sanity. He looks at Harry and whimpers, ‘You do know that you’re both still naked, right?’

Harry relaxes slightly and grins. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

tbc

A/N A huge thank you to Reyn who noticed the whole flu/floo debacle *bangs head against wall*, please feel free to point out anymore moronic mistakes;-)