How to Save a Life

Ginny had returned to Gryffindor Tower still seething about the evenings events. She hadn’t planned to actually attack Pansy, just warn the girl off. But when the Slytherin had dared to suggest that Harry had chosen her over Ginny, well it just made Ginny see red.

She had felt a twinge of unease at Harry’s reaction, but comforted herself with the thought that he would come round. Now that he had heard what Ginny had known all along, now he knew just what that Parkinson bitch really was.

Ginny had never before felt hatred of the kind that built within her when she thought of the Slytherin girl. It had originally stemmed from her attempt to turn Harry over to Voldemort before the Final Battle, but now it was so much more. The way Ginny saw it, Pansy had stolen her future.

Ginny had grown up hearing stories of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and had developed a large crush before even meeting the boy. She couldn’t believe her luck when she had started Hogwarts and found that not only was her idol there, but that he was best friends with her brother.

Harry saving her from the Chamber of Secrets just put the finishing touches on her obsession. From that point on she looked upon Harry as hers, the one she would love, marry and eventually have a family with.

When they had finally got together in her 5th year it had been all that Ginny had dreamt of. Harry had been the perfect boyfriend of her fantasies; caring, considerate and loving. If he had shied away from the more intimate side of their relationship, Ginny only took that as a sign of how much he respected her, and loved him all the more for it.

Then it had all begun to fall apart so fast, Death Eaters attacking the school, Snape killing Dumbledore and Harry leaving.

Ginny knew bitter jealousy for the first time that summer, watching her now ex boyfriend with Ron and Hermione, so close to each other, sharing secrets that she would never be privy to. And then they were gone and Ginny had to return to Hogwarts alone.

The anger that fuelled her resistance that year wasn’t from outrage at the Death Eaters murderous ways, or from memories of her brothers injuries at the hands of Greyback, it wasn’t even about the constant torture meted out by the Carrows. It was all about Harry. Those people were the reason that she and Harry couldn’t be together and she was determined to make them pay for it in any way possible.

And then the war had finished, with Harry as the world’s hero, not just hers. But he had been different, quieter and more withdrawn. Every time Ginny had mentioned resuming their relationship he had stalled for time, saying he wasn’t ready.

When Ginny finally realised that Harry had no intention of them getting back together, the anger she felt was like nothing she had known before. Pure fury ran through her veins. Not at Harry, she could never really be angry with him. Besides, she didn’t blame Harry. The war had changed him, things he had seen, people he had lost, and Ginny understood that.

Her anger was reserved for those that had done this to him. For those people who had taken her perfect loving boyfriend and returned him to her as a scarred shell of the person he had once been. But Voldemort was gone and the Death Eaters were either dead or in Azkaban and this had left Ginny with no one to focus her hatred on.

That was until September 1st, until she had seen Pansy Parkinson walk past her carriage on the Hogwarts Express. Everything had fallen into place at that moment. The Death Eaters may have been gone, but Ginny had the next best thing right under her nose – Slytherins.

The terror that Ginny had seen in Pansy’s eyes that day had been the most exhilarating experience, ruined only by Harry’s noble intervention. Even Ginny couldn’t help but see the irony of the situation that arose from this. Her attempt to punish those responsible for taking Harry from her had only served to push him further away, right into the arms of the very people that Ginny blamed.

The Slytherins had managed to pull the wool over Harry’s eyes; they had taken advantage of his good nature and pretended to be his friends. But Ginny knew they were only doing this to save their own skins, to redeem themselves in the eyes of the school by befriending Harry Potter.

But Harry knew now, he had heard Ginny say what kind of person Pansy really was. It wouldn’t take long before he came to his senses and saw the girl for what she really was and then he would come back to her. He would understand that everything Ginny had done had been for him, to save him from the clutches of those who would exploit his good nature.

Ginny slept peacefully that night, secure in the belief that Harry would return to her before long and smug in the assumption that Hermione would not follow through with the threat to report her behaviour to Professor McGonagall.

Therefore she was stunned when on Sunday afternoon she was summoned to the Headmistress’s study along with the Head Girl.

What was said within those walls remained known only to the participants. But details of Ginny’s punishments, when they became known, were a firm indicator of the wrath she had incurred.

It was clear to all that Professor McGonagall had decided to make an example of Ginny as a warning to any other students leaning towards similar behaviour. The Headmistress knew that if she didn’t make a concerted effort to stamp out the undercurrent of animosity, which still bubbled under the surface, then incidents of this kind would only increase.

Deep down, McGonagall had always thought that Dumbledore had been too lenient when it came to discipline of wayward students and she firmly intended to stop the rot.

Had Ginny made some show of remorse for her actions she might have mitigated her punishment. But sensing that she was already in deep, the redhead threw caution (and common sense) to the wind. She faced the Headmistress with a determined set to her jaw and faint insolence marring her pretty face. Her tone, when she spoke, was disrespectful and full of defiance and she resolutely refused to acknowledge she had, in any way, been wrong in her actions.

To say that Professor McGonagall had been surprised to meet with this attitude was an understatement. As Ginny’s old Head of House, she had always found the girl to be polite and well behaved. The Headmistress understood that many of her students had undergone a turbulent couple of years, and whenever possible she tried to make allowances for the trauma they had all suffered as a result of the war.

But when Professor McGonagall informed Ginny that she would be required to apologise to Pansy, the tenuous hold that the redhead had on her temper gave way. When Ginny went so far as to repeat the accusations she had flung at Pansy the night before, retribution was swift.

100 points were immediately docked from Gryffindor, which this early in the term would put them in almost negative figures. This was followed by a full month of detentions, every weekday night after dinner. But the real genius lay in the Headmistress’s edict that unless Ginny apologise to Pansy, and as publically as her attack had been, then she would be banned from all extracurricular activities. This meant no trips to Hogsmeade, no more dances or parties and most importantly - NO QUIDDITCH.

Unfortunately this punishment did little to inspire regret within the youngest Weasley. All it served to do was harden her resolve and increase her desire for revenge against the one person she firmly blamed for everything – Pansy. Ginny remained firm in her belief that Harry would come to his senses soon and see the Slytherin girl for what she really was, and Ginny was determined to do everything she could to encourage this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first two weeks of November passed by in a flurry of activity for Harry and Draco. Both boys were busy with last minute preparations for the upcoming Quidditch match between their houses.

Harry’s feelings for Draco and his friendships with the other Slytherins in no way diminished his desire to win. Since Harry had been on the Gryffindor team they had not lost a match to Slytherin and Harry didn’t intend to lose this clean sheet in his last year.

On top of ordinary practice, Harry had the added pressure of having to replace Ginny at very short notice. Much of Gryffindor's practice was taken up with trying to break in Natalie McDonald until the 5th year was comfortable with her new chaser position.

As much of an inconvenience as this was, and as much of a loss as Ginny was to the team, Harry couldn’t help but be glad he didn’t have to contend with the volatile redhead. He was still furious at her for what she had done to Pansy and didn’t trust himself to keep calm in such close contact with her. So while the rest of the team bemoaned the loss of one of their chasers, Harry was secretly relieved.

Draco too had new team members to contend with, although he at least had had a couple of months to train them into their new positions. The two new beaters seemed to be shaping up nicely. They lacked the sheer bulk that Crabbe and Goyle had brought to the position. But this wasn’t absolutely necessary, Draco reflected, as the Weasley twins had proved more than adequately in their day.

When they weren’t tied up with practice or schoolwork, the two boys were usually too tired to do anything but sleep at night and both were feeling extremely frustrated as a result.

So they were infinitely relieved when the day of the game came round. Not because of their desire to win, but simply because of their desire to be together. Draco had suggested they add an extra incentive other than the joy of victory. He had proposed that the captain of the loosing team would be the willing servant of the winning captain for the night.

Harry agreed readily, after all it was a bet that he didn’t think he could really lose on. Either he won the game and had Draco service his body's every need, or he lost the game but got to worship Draco’s body as it deserved. He won either way.

The morning of the first Quidditch game of the season dawned bright and cold. Harry no longer felt the nervousness that used to plague him before a match and he needed no persuasion to make a good breakfast. In fact, he seemed to be vying with Ron in an unspoken competition as to who could consume the most sausages.

Ron seemed to be swept up with Quidditch fever and had forgotten all previous animosity towards Harry. He chatted amiably with his old friend, making suggestions on tactics in between mouthfuls of food. Harry grinned to himself, imagining what Draco’s reaction would be if he could witness Ron’s eating habits.

Harry tried his best to avoid eye contact with Ginny. It wasn’t too hard as she no longer sat near them at mealtimes, preferring to be further down the table with the 5th years. Not only was she avoiding Harry, but now Ron and Hermione too. Ginny had refused to speak to the Head Girl ever since she had reported her to Professor McGonagall after the dance. The redhead irrationally blamed her punishment on Hermione for having reported her, rather than on herself for behaving that way in the first place.

Hermione was, as a rule, an easy going girl, but she had a temper and could be as stubborn as any Weasley when necessary. Whilst she understood that it made things very awkward for Ron, having his sister and girlfriend at loggerheads, she refused to back down.

Ron tried his best to stay out of what he considered to be a girl’s fight. However, his attempts at neutrality failed, as both girls considered that you were either with them, or against them. He understood Ginny’s dislike of the Slytherins, hating them only marginally less himself. But he also realised that Hermione had had no choice but to report what had happened and that Ginny had caused her own problems by a complete lack of self control.

And even Ron had to admit that since her punishment had come into force, Quidditch practices were much easier without the air of tension that usually accompanied her presences.

By 10.30 that morning, most of the school had spilled outdoors and was making their way down to the Quidditch pitch. Most of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had arrayed themselves in Gryffindor colours as a blatant display of their loyalties, but a smaller proportion had chosen to make their own statement by draping themselves in Slytherin green. In itself, a small sign of the thawing of tensions between the houses, which did not go unnoticed by Professor McGonagall.

As 11 o’clock rolled round, both teams had made their way to the pitch. Madam Hooch stood in the centre, the Quaffle in one hand and a silver whistle in the other.

Harry and Draco both stepped forward on her instruction. She eyed them both suspiciously, not fully convinced that their long held rivalry was at an end.

“I want a nice clean game, gentlemen,” she instructed. “Now shake hands.”

Both boys hands shot out and grasped in a firm handshake, this being the most contact they had had in days. A small jolt of pleasure ran through Harry as he felt Draco’s thumb caress the back of his hand softly. Green eyes locked gaze with grey ones as the handshake went on a little longer than was strictly necessary.

A sharp blast from Madam Hooch’s whistle brought them both back to the realisation of where they were and a faint pink tinged both their cheeks at the faint snickers that came from the Slytherin ranks. Oblivious as they were to the true nature of the two seekers' relationship, the Gryffindor team remained confused by this little byplay.

“Mount your brooms please.”

A final blast from the silver whistle and the Quaffle was released. Both teams took to the air with glee and almost instantly Gryffindor had gained possession. Demelza Robbins was heading towards the Slytherin goal, the Quaffle tucked safely under her arm. Harry heard the deafening cheer as she took aim and scored their first goal.

Feeling satisfied with the start his team had made, Harry soared higher. Soon both he and Draco were gliding over the game below, both trying their best to focus on the game at hand and not on each other.

At one point Harry caught a glimpse of gold out of the corner of his eye and made a sudden movement to go after it. It was only on turning that he realised that what he had thought was the snitch, was in fact with winter sun glinting off Draco’s golden head.

Draco noticed Harry looking at him and was too busy shooting his boyfriend a seductive wink to notice the bludger that was shooting in his direction at high speed. Harry was just on the verge of screaming out a warning, when Draco spotted it and managed to avoid injury by a hair's breadth. It wasn’t just a pair of grey eyes that were shooting venom in the direction of Jimmy Peakes; green eyes were also burning their way into the back of the Gryffindor beater.

Trying his best to focus on the game, Harry couldn’t help but allow his gaze to head in Draco’s direction at times. After a while, it occurred to him that rather an unusually high amount of bludgers seemed to be aimed Draco’s way and Harry made up his mind there and then to have a firm word with his two beaters later.

Not that the Slytherin beaters were particularly shy. Harry found himself having to make several emergency manoeuvres to avoid their onslaught. They lacked the bloodlust of Crabbe and Goyle though, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if they weren’t just the tiniest bit afraid of what Draco would do to them if they maimed his boyfriend.

Despite their initial monopoly of the game, Gryffindor soon found themselves on the wrong side of the score line. After some impressive flying by the Slytherin chasers, the score now sat at 50 – 10 in Slytherin’s favour.

As Harry began to panic slightly at the thought of losing, Natalie McDonald chose that moment to repay his faith in her by executing some rather spectacular pieces of flying which eventually led to the score equalling at 50 all.

Suddenly Harry spotted a tiny glint of gold in the distance below where Draco was currently hovering, and better still, the blonde didn’t seem to have noticed yet. Harry immediately dropped into a dive and sensed, rather than saw, Draco follow after him.

Not for the first time, Harry realised how grateful he was to his boyfriend for having got him a new Firebolt. There was no way that he would have been able to out fly Draco on the old Cleansweep he had been using.

Draco had already pulled level with him and they hurtled after the snitch, neck and neck. Harry could hear Draco musing out loud about all the things he was going to have Harry do to him once Slytherin were victorious. Harry tried his best to ignore him, knowing that the blonde was just trying to break his concentration. But despite his best efforts, there was a definite tightening in his pants.

Stretching his arm as far forward as he dared, Harry could feel the flutter of the snitch against his palm. An extra burst of speed from his broom and his fingers closed tightly around it. He pulled his broom to a screeching halt, almost causing Draco to collide with him.

“What the hell?” The blonde gasped. In reply Harry simply held up his hand for Draco to see that he had won. Harry was oblivious to the celebrations of the crowd and his team mates, he was too busy staring into Draco’s stormy eyes and doing his best to resist the temptation to ravage the blonde, there and then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening Harry made his way down to the Slytherin dungeons. He entered the common room and looked round in vain for Draco. Pansy looked up as he entered and nodded in the direction of the boy’s dormitories.

“He’s waiting in there for you,” she said, a smirk firmly in place.

Harry only nodded his thanks and hurriedly made his way to Draco’s room. He wiped his palms on his trousers before entering the room. He wasn’t quite sure why he was nervous but suspected it was something to do with the thought of having Draco as his willing slave for the evening. Harry had spent all afternoon entertaining various possibilities of what he could have his boyfriend do to him and was already half hard with anticipation.

He slowly pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and then he realised that every available surface was covered with tiny candles which were flickering their light around the room. Draco had been lounging back on his bed when Harry entered, but at the sight of his boyfriend he got up and stretched out, his shirt riding up to reveal his pale taut stomach.

He walked towards Harry with an almost predatory gleam in his eye. As Harry opened his mouth to speak, a finger was laid against his lips.

“Hush,” was all Draco said, before the finger was replaced with his lips. Harry found that he suddenly couldn’t think about anything except for the soft lips that were pressed against his own, the tongue that was seeking entrance to his mouth and the long fingers that were currently raking their way through his raven locks.

Suddenly the fingers moved and they were on the buttons to Harry’s shirt, slowly undoing them. He moved his own hands to help, eager to speed up the process, but they were batted away.

“Let me,” Draco murmured against his mouth. His hands slid the shirt from Harry’s shoulders until it fell to the floor. Draco’s hands smoothed against the planes of Harry’s chest, pausing only to circle his dark nipples with a finger tip.

Harry’s breath hitched as Draco trailed hot kisses down his neck, occasionally nipping at the sensitive flesh. Hands were on the waistband of his jeans now, unzipping him and slowly easing them down over his thighs. His boxers swiftly followed his trousers and before Harry had fully processed what was happening, he was stood naked in the middle of Draco’s room with a raging hard on.

Draco smiled at the sight of Harry’s erection and lightly traced one finger down its length.

“Is that for me?” he purred. Harry could only nod wordlessly as a hand wrapped round his shaft and squeezed gently.

Then just as suddenly the hand was gone and Harry let out a small whimper. Draco chuckled at this.

“All in good time,” Draco said, before capturing Harry’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

Soon Harry found himself laying spread naked on Draco’s bed, with the still fully clothed blonde standing over him. There was hunger in Draco’s eyes as he raked them over Harry’s naked form.

“Turn over,” he instructed. Harry complied immediately, not sure this was exactly how he had expected the night to go, but far too turned on to argue. A tiny moan of pleasure escaped his lips at the delightful friction of his cock against the cool sheets, and he rutted slightly against them.

A light tap on his bare buttock stilled his movement. “Be still,” and again Harry obeyed. He heard rather than saw Draco removing his clothes, but just the thought of the naked blonde was enough make Harry throb with anticipation.

With his clothes removed, Draco got onto the bed and straddled Harry’s hips. His own erection pressed against the crease of Harry’s buttocks, causing him to bite hard on his lip to keep a groan from escaping them. Harry wriggled teasingly at this touch but Draco placed a hand on his back, effectively stilling his movements.

“Relax, I’m going to give you a massage,” the blonde said softly as his hands skated over Harry’s tense shoulders. “You’re so tense.”

Warm oil trickled down Harry’s spine and then Draco’s hands began to work the fluid over his smooth skin. He started off at the top of his back, his fingers kneading the knotted muscles of Harry’s shoulders, gradually working their way down his body.

Draco sat back for a moment and admired the way that the oil caused Harry’s skin to gleam almost bronze in the candle light. Unable to resist, he leant down and traced the length of Harry’s spine with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck, Draco!” Harry exclaimed.

“Like that, did you?”

“I’m going to cum if you keep on like this.”

Draco leaned forward, his chest pressing against Harry’s slick back until his lips were right next to the brunette’s ear. “You won’t cum until I tell you, ok?”

Harry nodded fervently. Satisfied with his reply, Draco raised his body of Harry’s but kept straddling him.

“Roll over. I want to see you.” Draco had intended to tease Harry a lot more but he had underestimated just how turned on he would get by the whole process.

Harry rolled on his back and both boys let out gasps as their naked erections brushed against each other for the first time. Draco trailed hot kisses down the length of Harry’s body until his mouth hovered just over Harry’s erection, his breath ghosting over the swollen flesh.

“Draco, please,” Harry whined.

“Please what? What do you want me to do?”

A slight thrust of Harry’s hips brought a smile to the Draco’s face as he watched that beautiful cock bob ever closer to his lips.

“Do you want me to suck you, Harry? Is that what you want?” He bent his head and lightly flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of his boyfriends cock, revelling in the taste of his precum.

“Yes,” Harry begged. “I want you to suck me; I want your mouth on my cock.”

Draco grinned at this. “All you had to do was ask,” he said before engulfing Harry’s cock in one smooth motion. Harry cried out loud in pleasure as he felt his cock slide down Draco’s throat and he was unable to stop himself from thrusting upwards into the warm cavern of his boyfriend’s mouth.

Draco made no effort to still his thrusts; he rather enjoyed the sensation of a thick cock deep in his throat, especially when it was Harry’s. He pulled back though and let Harry’s cock slip from his mouth with a *pop*

Harry let out a faint whimper at this loss of contact but Draco’s lips were quickly wrapped around his shaft again. He looked down and almost came right then at the sight of Draco looking so wanton. His blonde hair loose against Harry’s tanned thighs, a thick cock sliding between his pink, fleshy lips.

Harry gasped as he felt Draco’s fingers slide between his legs and into the cleft of his arse. He squirmed slightly as they began to massage his puckered opening.

“Relax,” Draco whispered. “It will feel good, I promise.”

Harry took a deep breath and tried his best to relax. It really wasn’t too hard to do as Draco’s tongue licked the underside of his cock, before taking him into his mouth again. One finger breached the tight ring of muscle and began to thrust slowly before being joined quickly by a second. Harry found himself pushing down on them, feeling so full and yet wanting more.

Draco timed the thrusts of his slick fingers with the rhythm his mouth had going on Harry’s cock. When he crooked his fingers and found Harry’s prostrate, the brunette cried out loudly in pleasure, his body arching off the bed.

“Fuck! Do that again, please.”

Draco used his free hand to stroke Harry’s cock as he pulled back and watched his fingers pump into his boyfriend’s virgin hole. Just the thought of what it would be like to thrust in there with his own cock almost made Draco come on the spot.
“You look so hot like this,” he purred before returning his attention to Harry’s straining cock. He swirled his tongue over the head and slowly took the whole length into his mouth, ruthlessly massaging Harry’s prostrate with his thrusting fingers.

Suddenly Harry’s hands were in Draco’s hair, holding on tight to his head. His hips began to arch more forcefully off the bed and keening cries escaped his lips.

“Draco,” he gasped. “I’m gonna...”

Harry didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his cock exploded in the blonde’s mouth, his hot seed shooting down Draco’s throat.

Draco continued to suck at Harry’s softening cock until he was sure he had drained every last drop of cum. He then let it slip from between his lips and sat back smiling at his sated boyfriend.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned. “That thing you did with your fingers was amazing. I though I was going to pass out.”

Draco chucked and began to move up the bed until he was once again straddling Harry’s hips. Green eyes widened as they watched Draco slowly fist his own straining erection. Harry wriggled, trying to move, his arms reaching forward to touch Draco.

“Don’t,” Draco growled. “Just watch me.”

And watch Harry did. It was the first time he had ever seen another boy wank and he was fascinated. The fact that it was Draco doing the wanking just made it all the more erotic. He watched as Draco’s hand lovingly stroked his shaft, pulling his foreskin back and smoothing his leaking precum down his thick cock.

The thrusts became faster and Draco’s body was arching up to meet each stroke. Harry wasn’t sure which he wanted to watch most, Draco’s hand on his cock, or his boyfriend's face, flushed with pleasure. The blonde truly looked beautiful like this and Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away.

One final hard jerk on his cock and Draco was shouting his release, white pearls of cum spurting over Harry’s naked torso. Draco milked the last of his seed from his now limp cock and looked down at his boyfriend, a smirk on his face.

“Do you know how hot you look like that, covered in my cum? I could tie you to this bed and never let you go.”

Harry only smiled and held out his hand to pull Draco in close. “Less talking, more ...”

He never did get to finish that sentence as his mouth was covered with Draco’s lips and he found himself receiving the tenderest kiss he had ever had. It was so full of feeling and emotion that Harry really thought he might cry from the intensity of it all.

When Draco finally ended the kiss and lay his head to rest on Harry’s shoulder, it was all the dark haired boy could do to keep from declaring his undying love right then. Instead he waited and when the shift in the blonde’s breathing indicated that he was asleep, Harry quickly cast a cleaning charm on them both, pulled the covers over their naked bodies and wrapped his arms possessively around Draco’s warm body.

“I love you,” he whispered and pressed a light kiss to the blonde’s forehead, before snuggling closer to him and falling asleep also.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~