The Goodwill Games

A/N: I lied--it divides better into four parts, so this is the final part. So yes, it *was* complete when I started posting, but now it is completely posted. Enjoy!


October 31st, 1998, Hogwart grounds, Hogwarts School of Wizardry


It was Samhain, or Halloween depending on your point of view, and all the school was abuzz with talk of the third Goodwill Game. A maze had been growing out on the Hogwarts grounds since early summer, and it was in full form now, grown from wild juniper and thorny hawthorn to be ready before the onset of winter at the castle. The teams were gathered up again, looking at the rather daunting archway which led into the maze. Harry had an uncomfortable flashback to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He'd decided he hated mazes.

Nevertheless, he tried to calm his nerves and listen as McGonagall described their task for the day. "Now I realise that this particular challenge may be more difficult than the others have been, particularly for some of you who recall the tragic ending to our Tri-Wizard Tournament a few years past." She looked directly at Harry, then continued. "But it is in deference to that tragedy that I chose this game today, because there comes a time when one must overcome memories of the past. This is not to say that we forget, but we can learn from past mistakes. Be assured that the end of this maze is not a Portkey. Instead, each team will be racing to make it out the other side--and there will be a particular task within the maze that each member will have to complete. I caution you now. All team members must exit the maze together in order to receive points. This task is about teamwork. You have your wands this time, and you may use them; in fact, you'll need to."

Harry glanced at the rest of his team. All of them had been members of his little private DA, except of course for Draco. Who, Harry mentally added, still hadn't been able to produce a full Patronus yet. Not that he expected any Dementors, but there could be boggarts. He suddenly wondered what Draco's fear would be, if they came across one. Voldemort, possibly. Harry felt a shiver go through him.

McGonagall had given everyone a moment to gather themselves and choose a walking order; the maze would only allow them to walk two abreast. Harry cleared his throat. "So, am I leading?"

Draco snorted. "The true mark of arrogance, Potter. Assuming that everybody is going to follow you."

Ernie scowled at him. "Hey, now. Harry's always done a good job before. I don't mind following him."

Hannah shrugged. "I don't really care."

Luna smiled, twirling her fingers in her hair, which for the occasion had been woven with what Harry thought were pine needles. It had to be itchy. "I'd like to go last, if nobody else minds. I can watch the rear for Berry Gremlins. They're sure to be out today." She opened her hand to show some cranberries she must have snagged from the breakfast table. "This should do well to distract them."

"Brilliant; a distracted rear guard," Draco moaned. He folded his arms. "I think I should go last. Let the rest of you bumble into whatever traps the Headmistress has laid out for us."

"You can walk next to me," Luna said cheerfully, walking over to take one of Draco's arms. Harry had to stifle a laugh; Draco looked positively horrified at the thought.

Ernie nodded, smiling grimly. "That works. Hannah and I can walk together, and Harry can take the lead." He drew his wand, as McGonagall called for their team to step up to the maze entrance. Each team had the maze to themselves for the task. Points would be awarded on how quickly they managed to reach the other side.

Draco tried to protest, but everybody seemed to ignore him. Harry gave him a shrug; in truth, he would have liked to have Draco up in front with him, so that he could ask about the Room of Requirement door, but he reckoned there wouldn't be much time for chat anyways. Then the whistle blew and there was no more time to argue. Harry charged into the maze, trusting that the rest would follow.

Harry followed the turns of the maze, glancing around corners here and there to see if they led to dead ends or not. This maze had to be at least as large as the one he'd solved for the tournament, so he reckoned he should be able to solve it. Ernie was giving him advice as well. They avoided a net trap connected to a trip wire, thanks to Hannah's sharp eyes.

They stopped abruptly when they came upon a gate set at a dead end corridor. There was a large lock on the gate with letters instead of numbers, for some kind of password, it appeared. Ernie looked at Harry. "I'm thinking we have to go through."

"Oh, brilliant deduction," sniped Draco, dragging Luna away from nearly tripping another trap disguised by holly berries. She'd wanted to add them to her berry collection.

Luna looked at the peculiar lock with instant understanding. "Oh I get it. It needs a password--I think it's rather similar to the riddles they put on the knocker for our dorm."

She turned over the lock. On the back side was written, "Desk writing alike is what?" Beneath that, was a little picture of a house. Luna looked at it, humming thoughtfully to herself.

"Well, what does it mean?" Harry asked, sensing the growing impatience from the rest of the team. Ernie was biting his nails, glancing around, and Harry had a feeling Draco was grinding his teeth.

Luna turned the lock back over. "I would say the answer is 'raven.' A raven is like a writing desk, and it's the first part of the House named Ravenclaw. Only I'm trying to decide whether to spell it forwards or backwards. The question is written backwards, so I'm thinking 'nevar'." She began keying it in.

"And what happens if she gets this wrong?" Ernie asked, but just then Luna finished spelling the word. Apparently whatever twisted logic she had used worked. The door opened.

"That's one challenge down," Hannah said, pulling Ernie along. "And we'll take the lead this time, I think. You three can fight for who goes last."

As it turned out, Harry ended up bringing up the rear with Draco. Harry felt the familiar rush of blood to his face now, which seemed to happen every time he came near Draco these days. Hermione might have stumbled onto the truth, he thought to himself nervously. But why did it have to be Draco who sent all his nerves in an uproar? Why not some other fellow, if it had to be a fellow?

One look at Draco pretty much answered that question for Harry. It was the alabaster skin, the silvery blond hair, the cool grey eyes. It was the aristocratic tilt to the head which made Draco's neck look long and graceful, and the poise that he always carried with him no matter what. It was the lips that looked so red in comparison to the rest of his colouration. It was the mystery, wondering what he looked like under all those damned expensive clothes.

Draco glanced aside at him. "What?" He glared at Harry, and Harry felt the heat in his face racing deeper, to other parts of him.

"Nothing. I--" Well this was as good a time to ask as any, Harry reckoned, thinking quickly. "Have you been in the Room of Requirement this year?"

One pale brow rose. "No. Why?"

Harry didn't know how to put it delicately, so he charged ahead bluntly as usual. "Well . . . I sort of saw you walk by and the door appeared."

The other brow rose. "I don't seem to recall you being there when that happened."

It was very hot in the maze, Harry decided. "Well that's because I was under my Invisibility Cloak. I just wondered if you went back there since then and got the door to open for you. It hasn't opened for me yet."

Draco's eyes glittered coldly. "No, I haven't. I don't have any reason to go in there this year anyway. There's nothing in there but death."

Harry refused to back down. "But it appears for you. McGonagall told me it doesn't even appear for her. So far, it's just you and me." He'd asked Hermione, and in fact they'd even tried to get it to work, with Harry waiting in the other corridor so that he didn't influence the test. But the door hadn't appeared. It didn't work for Neville either. Nor Ron.

Draco started to make a retort, when a cry from Hannah pulled their attention back to the maze. Harry saw a flash of something orange and fierce-looking charging at them. He reacted with split-second timing, drawing his wand and shoving his way forward to protect Luna and Hannah. "Stupefy!" He yelled, as bright light flew from the tip of his wand.

It hit the creature square in the chest, and the creature went down, mere feet from them. It appeared to be half lion, half serpent. Harry shuddered, looking at its inert form. "Let's hurry past," he told the others. They made their way nervously past the beast and hurried around a corner. It should stay stunned long enough for them to make their way through, Harry reckoned. Still, it was best not to take chances.

It was as they were running through a sharp series of zig-zag turns that the inevitable happened. Hannah and Ernie were far out in the lead hurrying, when they tripped up one of the net traps. Apparently the net had some sort of enchantment on it, for rather than simply entangling the two, it wrapped tight around them and lifted up, carrying them over the hedge barrier, to another part of the hedge maze, it appeared. Draco cursed and threw up his hands.

"Great. And I suppose this is going to be somehow my fault, right? Just like everything else is the fault of the stupid Slytherins?"

Harry shook his head. "There's no time for that! We have to find them and get out of here, or we're going to lose this challenge." He knew, deep down, that they were undoubtedly safe, just as Ginny and Cho had been when taken by the merpeople. But it still made him uneasy.

"I think I saw which way they went. Come on. Draco--you're good at finding the traps. I think you should be the leader," Luna said with a touch of authority Harry hadn't heard from her before.

Harry nodded. "That's a good idea. And I'll go in the back. Luna can tell Draco which way to go."

They headed off quickly, with Luna giving her ideas on direction and Draco pointing out possible traps or dangers. Harry had to admit, Draco's powers of observation were quite good; neither he nor Luna saw half of the things he did, and it was unsettling to realise that without his help, they probably would have been captured by the maze by now as well.

Even with Draco's help, Harry nearly tripped a wire in his haste. Draco pulled him back hard, grabbing him around the waist. Harry could swear his heart stopped for an instant, and a warm rush surged through him, feeling the press of Draco's body against him. No time to be getting turned on! He fought the wave down, dry-mouthed and panting. Luna looked at the two of them with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't know you two fancied each other," she remarked casually, with a little smile. Draco and Harry looked at each other in horror.

"I--he--" Harry stammered, pulling away.

Draco, for his part, looked angry. "We're wasting time!" Harry had to note, however, that he was blushing. Harry glanced at Luna, as they started off again. He knew he fancied Draco; Merlin, but he wished he didn't!

But he'd had no idea that Draco might fancy him.

They rounded the next corner, and there it suddenly was--the long straight passageway to the exit. The three of them looked longingly at it; they were tired and scratched by the thorns, and hungry. But without Ernie and Hannah, it would all be in vain. No points. "This way," suggested Draco, pointing out a turnoff almost hidden by brush. They passed through, and Harry could tell they were getting close; this was definitely the direction the enchanted net had taken the two Hufflepuffs.

A few more turns, and there they were, trussed up in the netting at the end of a corridor. They looked a little bit frightened, Harry noticed, and he wondered what they would think if they knew a good part of the reason they were being rescued was due to Draco's help. Harry began to rush forward to release them, but Draco put a hand out, holding him back.

"This is a perfect place for them to set a trap," Draco warned Harry.

Harry fumed at the delay, but he had to admit Draco was probably right. "Let's take a look, then," he said, stalking forward beside Draco.

They didn't find any traps and set to releasing Ernie and Hannah. But a growl from behind them let Harry know that the lion-serpent had freed itself from his spell and was ready to do battle once more. He turned to engage it, but before he could, Draco whirled and shouted, "Petrificus Totallus!" The beast froze in mid-leap, just metres away. Harry swallowed.

"Wow," Ernie said, looking at the creature with wide eyes.

"Oh, to bloody hell with 'wow', Draco snapped peevishly, grabbing Ernie's arm. "Just run! We've already found the way out." He led the group, and quickly they made their way back to the exit passage, avoiding the traps. They ran out into bright sunlight and cheers from the other teams. Harry found himself grinning at Draco.

"That wasn't so bad after all," Harry said, and he found he actually meant it.

The Horntails, it turned out, made the fastest time in the maze.

***

November 1st, 1998, Hogwarts School of Wizardry


More cracks in the walls of the castle were healing. The stairs were moving again, and the skies above the Great Hall were starting to clear a bit. It was evident that the castle was slowly healing.

Harry noted this, and wondered again about the Room of Requirement.

He wondered about Draco as well, because now that Luna had mentioned the possibility that Draco fancied him in turn, Harry noticed that Draco seemed to be looking at him. A lot.

Harry felt a hot spark go through him every time their eyes accidentally met across the room.

After class, Harry managed to catch up with Draco, and fell into step beside him. He told himself it was only to get more information about the mysterious appearing door. But of course that was only the tip of the iceberg. He really wanted to know much more.

"So?" Harry asked, ignoring the glare that Draco gave him.

"So what? Forgot your Cloak this time, Potter?" Draco tried to move faster, but Harry kept to his pace, not letting Draco away.

"No, I mean, so? Have you tried the door again? Don't you want to know if it works or not?"

Draco abruptly stopped, and Harry nearly ran into him. When he recovered, he saw a dark angry light in Draco's face. "No, Potter, I did not. Has it occurred to you that I have no desire whatsoever to step into that room ever again? I don't exactly have the fondest memories of it, you know. I mean, what? Spending almost my entire sixth year amidst dusty old artefacts trying to repair a broken old cabinet so that I could avoid being messily killed only then to--" He stopped, shuddering. "And don't think I've forgotten the fire. No. I have no wish to look in there. Vincent died in there, in case you forgot." He turned away.

"Wait, Draco," Harry said, reaching out to touch Draco's shoulder. He'd seen the hurt in Draco's eyes, the loss. He certainly knew how that felt. "I'm sorry. I know he was one of your best friends." Even if he had been trying to kill them at the time. "But I really need to know if it's all still there. Will you try it again?" He tried to think of what else to say, how else to explain it. "I've . . . I've decided you're not such a prat . . . any more." Small praise. But he wondered if Draco appreciated how much it cost him just to admit that.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Let me lay down and worship you now, oh master of sweet talk. Oh, very well. But if it doesn't open this time, I'm not doing it again."

Together they walked up to the 7th floor, to the space of wall they both knew so well. Harry's heart was pounding; there was a feeling in the air, almost as if the castle knew what they were up to. Harry stayed back in the corridor while Draco passed by the space once. Twice.

The third time, the door appeared.

Harry felt his stomach clench, and stepped forward as Draco tried the handle. Draco rattled it, a determined look on his face. The door wouldn't budge.

"Let me try it," Harry said, reaching out to the knob. He pulled on it while Draco watched, but again, to no avail.

"There, are you satisfied?" Draco asked, reaching out to pull once more. Their hands touched on the knob as they both gave a pull.

The door suddenly opened, and both of them nearly fell over in shock.

"It needed both of us to work!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing the door before it could close again. He looked inside, not sure what to expect. There was a faint smell of smoke, but it didn't have the horrible charred smell he remembered from when the Fiendfyre had consumed ages of artefacts. Instead, this smelled more pleasant, like cedar or pine smoke. He glanced at Draco. "What sort of room did you ask for?"

Draco flushed a little. "I wasn't really thinking of anything at all. I suppose I was mostly thinking of the place where the cabinet was stored." He peeked in, but it was rather dark, and difficult to distinguish things.

Sighing, Harry stepped inside, and pulled Draco along, letting the door close behind them. It looked like a sumptuous bedroom, actually, complete with a large oak-framed bed, Persian rug, and indeed, a large fireplace where a merry fire crackled, giving the whole room a reddish light. Red was everywhere, as was a flame motif; there were pictures of flames on the walls, embroidered flames on the golden bed sheets, and red and gold details on the other furniture, including a small settee and ottoman chair. Harry swallowed nervously. Either they both had the fire still on their minds, or this was the castle's way of incorporating the fire into its rooms. He wasn't sure which was better.

Draco looked ill at ease. "This is wrong. We shouldn't be in here." He turned and went back to the door, but when he tried to turn the handle, it wouldn't budge. He looked at Harry in near panic. "It's not opening. We're trapped!"

Harry ran back and pulled with Draco, but the door stayed fast, almost as if it wasn't really a door, just a knob set in a wooden wall. They pulled with all their might, straining, but nothing. Harry stepped back, pulling his wand. "Alohamora!"

The door stayed shut. "Try your Patronus! Send for help!" Draco suggested, but Harry shook his head.

"It's a magical room. It kept Fiendfyre in. I don't think anything we could cast would get out of here. Even the House elves can't get in here." Harry chewed his lip, looking around, and noticed the bed, which had been made when they'd first entered, was now turned down. The room wanted them to sleep? Together?

A sudden thought struck Harry, and he blushed hotly. Draco had noticed the bed as well, and was frowning at it. He'd filled out over the summer, Harry noticed. He'd finally grown into that pointed chin, and his features now were angular, but handsome. Very handsome. Harry gulped. "I think this may be my fault."

Draco's eyebrows went up. "It is?" He turned to face Harry, grabbing him by the arms. "Then fix it!"

Harry's blush only deepened. "I--I don't know if I can." And now the horrible thing was, he had to explain it. "This room--it reminds me a little of a . . ." He couldn't get the word out. A dream. A dream he'd had for several nights now, of himself, and Draco. "Well you see, I--" He could see that Draco was getting frustrated. He could hardly blame him. "Luna was right. And so were the rumours. You see I'm gay and I only just found out and I sort of just noticed you but I don't know if you're bent that way and I fancy you, okay?" He blurted it out in a stream of words, just to get it over with. At least now he'd find out if Luna had been right or not. And if she hadn't been right and Draco wasn't interested? Then he just hoped the Room would let them both go.

For a moment, Draco simply stared at him, and Harry wondered if he'd understood him in the rush of words. Harry backed towards the door, trying to get it to open. It remained as shut as ever. Draco licked his lips. "So the bed was your idea?"

Harry swallowed, imagining Draco lying naked on the golden sheets. He was uncomfortably aware of the rush of blood to his groin. "Maybe." He couldn't help it. He was bloody eighteen, and a virgin.

Draco's eyes were darkening, Harry could swear. They gazed at him with an intensity he usually associated with Draco's temper, only he didn't look angry. He looked incredibly sexy, in fact. "So you admit it. How long?" He took a step towards Harry; Harry backed up a step, and found himself trapped against the locked door.

"I don't know," Harry stammered, trying to think past the pounding of his heart. There had always been heat between them, but it had been the heat of rivalry, of antagonism. When had it changed? Or had it been there all along, the sexual tension simmering under the surface? "I just know I became aware of it this school year." He remembered how terrible Draco had looked at the Manor, when Harry had been captured. "I think I felt a little sorry for you--I mean you fucked up, helping them, but I know you really didn't have much choice. And I saw how even your old friends were treating you. You've changed. You're quiet now. You're braver--like in the maze. You're not bullying people." Harry smiled. "I think I like you now."

Draco took another step forward, and Harry sucked in a breath; they were chest to chest, almost touching. He wanted to touch Draco. He wanted to do so much more, but he didn't know how. When Draco shifted, pinning Harry with his hips, a small moan escaped Harry. "Have I mentioned I haven't done this before?"

"Shut the bloody hell up, Potter," Draco said. Then he closed in and kissed Harry. Hard.

Now kisses Harry was familiar with; he'd kissed Cho and he'd kissed Ginny. Many times. But never once like this. He made a sound in the back of his throat, feeling Draco pressed up against him, wishing there was even more pressed up against him and less clothing. Draco was all sharp teeth and demanding lips. Harry loved it. He kissed back just as hard, grabbing at Draco's waist to keep him there, struggling to get a breath once in a while. The room seemed stiflingly hot.

"I think we have too many clothes on," Draco breathed against Harry's mouth, his leg settling in between Harry's rubbing up against the hard ridge in his jeans. Harry had to agree.

"Bed?" Harry asked. Not that he minded being pinned up against the door like this. Not at all. But the bed did look awfully inviting.

Draco nodded, and began working at the fastenings of his school robes, loosening his tie. "You manage your own clothes--I don't want you destroying mine." He removed his tie, and a hat stand seemed to materialise out of nowhere for him to hang it on. For his part, Harry didn't bother; he pulled his jumper off over his head and tossed it to the floor, and followed that up with the t-shirt he was wearing underneath it. Next came the shoes and socks, and then he hesitated, wearing only his jeans, waiting for Draco before he took off any more.

It seemed Draco had more layers, or at least he was a lot more meticulous about removing them. He'd removed the school robes and was down to his white pressed shirt and black trousers. He looked over at Harry coyly, and began very slowly unbuttoning his shirt, walking over to the bed. It took Harry a moment to realise that Draco was flirting with him, making a show of undressing.

And it was very sexy.

Harry was transfixed, watching Draco slowly open his shirt, revealing a pale smooth chest and pink nipples. He was still thin, but not sickly-looking as he had been sixth year; in fact it looked like he had been working out a little. Draco quirked one brow and gave a little half smile, obviously enjoying the effect his disrobing was having on Harry. "Coming over?"

Harry couldn't get there fast enough. Draco's shirt dropped to the floor as Harry closed in, and their mouths met once more, kissing hungrily, hands exploring each other. Harry gasped as Draco's hand glided down over his stomach and pressed down against his groin, feeling him up. Draco made a little impatient sound as he tried to work the snap open on the jeans. "Bloody Muggle clothing," he swore softly. Harry chuckled and undid his fly for Draco. Then it was his turn to swear softly as Draco's hand explored further.

There was an explosion of sensation, as Draco's hand closed around Harry's cock, drawing it out of his jeans, fondling and stroking it. Harry's groan was muffled against Draco's neck, where Harry was busy licking and nibbling. He shifted his hips a little, trying to get his jeans to fall down, because at this point all clothing was simply a nuisance. Harry managed to pull his jeans down as far as his knees, where he climbed out of them, leaving them a tangle on the floor.

"You really do want me, don't you," Draco whispered, almost in wonder. Harry paused for a moment and looked into his eyes. There was a vulnerability there that he'd never, ever expected to see. A look of sheer loneliness, and hurt, and need. Harry blinked.

"How long?"

Draco stared, not comprehending. "How long what?" He was tugging at his own trousers now, stepping out of them to let them fall as well, breathing hard with the urgency of his need. There were the black briefs that Harry had rescued last month. This time filled with a very promising bulge.

"How long have you wanted me?" Harry asked, letting his own hands explore, feeling Draco through the thin material of the briefs. He'd never imagined that feeling up another fellow would turn him on so much. He wanted to lick Draco all over. He settled for closing his lips over a pale nipple, tugging at it with his teeth. A low groaned escaped Draco, and he scratched at Harry’s back with his free hand, arching against him.

"Since . . ." Draco seemed to be having a hard time speaking. "Since I first saw you."

Harry paused and looked at Draco's face again, to see if that was true. He could see that it was; there were no masks on Draco's expression, no sneer, no haughtiness. So was this the real Draco, under all that spoiled brattiness? "Oh," Harry said, because he couldn't think what else to say. That was a long time ago.

"Yes," Draco replied, smiling a little, and did something with his thumb over the head of Harry's cock that sent a rush of pleasure through Harry. Draco leaned in and kissed Harry, and Harry decided that was enough talking for the moment. Draco's tongue was magic.

Somehow they managed to crawl into the bed, and Harry pulled off the briefs, both his and Draco's. Then he had to pause to take a look. While Harry couldn’t say he had a large base to make judgements on, he had to say that Draco was gorgeous. Pale blond curls and a thick, pink organ; Harry reached out and had to touch, had to feel the soft skin over hardness. Draco's eyelids fluttered and he let out a low moan, stretching out on the bed, pale skin in contrast against the red and gold sheets and coverlet. Beautiful, Harry thought. And he was. Without the sneer or the pompousness, Draco was beautiful.

Harry began stroking Draco's cock, loving the way it felt in his hands, the way his actions made Draco sigh and gasp, squirming beneath him. Draco clutched at the sheets, writhing as Harry played with him, and it sent coils of heat into Harry's stomach to watching him. On an impulse, Harry bent over and took a lick at the head of Draco's cock, just to see what it tasted like.

“Oh please!” Draco cried, bucking a little, clutching at Harry’s shoulder. Harry gave another lick and Draco shuddered, leaking precome.

Encouraged at this, Harry took as much of the organ into his mouth as he could, sucking lightly. Draco moaned, shivering all over. The taste was actually really good; a bit of a surprise to him. As soon as he’d done that, however, Draco was waving his hands frantically, making a strange noise. Harry came up, giving Draco a lazy stroke. That apparently was more than Draco could take; with a cry, he began coming, and Harry nearly got an eyeful, as he watched Draco spend his passion into empty air.

“S-sorry,” Draco whispered when it was over, turning his head to one side, as if to hide. A bright red blush touched his cheek, and his stomach was liberally coated with white droplets. “Just . . . long time,” he added softly. A long time of wanting this, Harry realised.

If Harry thought about it that way, it was quite a compliment, actually. It didn’t help the fact, however, that he was still hard and needing to be touched, that he didn’t want this to be over so quickly. Harry glanced around, and noticed a towel had appeared on the bedside table; he used it to clean Draco off a bit, then stretched out beside him, waiting for him to recover a little.

After a moment, Draco raised his head to look at Harry. “I can’t believe I bloody lost it like that.” He looked cute with the blush, Harry decided. Harry had an urge to touch him again, but he kept his hands to himself for the moment, afraid that any second now Draco would be telling him to sod off. Instead, however, Draco was looking at him with new hunger, as if he were a delectable treat. “Not done this before either,” Draco confessed.

The idea was shocking to Harry. Draco had just looked so . . . well, experienced! “But—Blaise?” Harry asked, turning on his side so that he could better hold a conversation. Talking was not what he wanted to do at the moment. He wanted to touch. He wanted to be touched.

Draco shook his head. “Blaise is straight, didn’t you know? Goes through tons of women, but that’s all.” His gaze travelled down the length of Harry’s body, pausing for a long moment in one particular area. “He’s been sleeping with your ex-girlfriend, you know. Ginny. I saw him sneak her into the dorm one night.”

It wasn’t really a shock; Harry had suspected things would eventually go that way. And in a strange way, he was relieved. Ginny could take care of herself. He loved her, but not that way. More as a sister. He found his own gaze wandering down Draco, noting that he seemed to be already recovering. “I guess neither of us ever had time to, you know. Do anything.” Opposite sides of the war, both trying to protect those they loved.

Tentatively, Draco reached over, running his hand up the inside of Harry’s thigh. Harry’s breath caught in his throat; he spread his legs a little, inviting more exploration. As Draco began leaning closer, Harry held his breath, his cock giving a little twitch as Draco’s hand passed over it, and then a bigger twitch when Draco finally wrapped his fingers around the shaft. “Yes,” Harry gasped. He didn’t want to beg, but God. He needed more.

“I want to taste you—just a bit. Then I want you to fuck me,” Draco stated, and Harry had to bite his bottom lip, because he wanted that too. He just hoped he didn’t embarrass himself the same way Draco just had.

“Okay,” Harry said, then groaned as Draco brought his mouth closer, feeling the warm breath on his sensitive organ. He tried to think of potion components, anything, as Draco’s warm mouth enveloped him, because it felt so good. Too good. He’d never been this hard before in his life; he was sure of it. The feel of Draco’s lips was exquisite, and he did something with his tongue that made Harry gasp, trying hard not to squirm as Draco had earlier. Harry’s hand drifted down to pet Draco’s hair, and he was stricken with the vision—the same from his dream, of Draco sucking him off in a gilded bed. Oh God.

After only a minute or two, Harry had to gently push Draco away; it was either that, or face his own untimely climax. And he really wanted to fuck Draco. Right now.

“Lie back,” Harry told Draco, giving himself a firm squeeze until the urge to come settled down a bit. Draco’s lips were red and slightly swollen. Harry almost wanted to tell him to continue, just to feel those lips more, to be able to kiss them afterwards and taste himself. Maybe later.

“I want—“ Draco said, and his look mirrored Harry’s thoughts—he looked petulant at being stopped too early. But he laid back even so, legs bent and slightly apart, giving Harry that intense hungry look from earlier. “Fuck me. But later I want to suck you off.”

Just the words alone tested Harry’s control. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak right now, and glanced around, realising they’d need some kind of lubricant. He knew the basic principles of sex—Dudley had called him a queer often enough in childhood with accompanying details. But beyond that it was pretty much guesswork.

Not surprisingly, the Room again provided. Harry found a little tub of stuff, and put some on his fingers, his other hand splayed across Draco’s stomach, somehow needing to touch him to remind him that this was all real. “Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said in a low voice, and pressed in against the pucker with his middle finger, feeling it slowly part, pressing inwardly until his finger was buried. Draco moaned.

“Doesn’t hurt at all,” Draco said. He took Harry’s hand that was on his stomach and brought it up to his mouth. Slowly, seductively, he sucked one of Harry’s fingers into his mouth, while Harry’s other hand was busy, stretching him. It only increased the whole urgency of the situation in Harry’s mind.

A second finger, and more exploration. Draco moaned again, and Harry watched in amazement; he really seemed to be enjoying this. For his part, Harry wanted to try Draco’s position, some time, another time. But at the moment, he was enjoying his part here on top.

“Should be enough,” Draco said, when Harry’s two fingers could slide comfortably in and out. He seemed impatient; they both were, but Harry still worked in a third finger, just in case. Draco cried out. “Please, Harry!”

So it was ‘Harry’ now. Finally. Harry pulled out his fingers, and took more of the lube to slick over his cock. Draco surprised him by taking the lube as well, putting some on his own cock, slowly working his thumb over the head, perhaps as a way to stay relaxed, Harry reflected. Harry got into position, finding that lining things up was not as simple as he’d imagined. He pressed the head of his cock against the stretched opening. And thrust in. Hard.

“Merlin!” Draco cried, his eyes going wide and his body stiffening. Harry froze, partially inside and unable to go further due to the sudden clenching of muscles, realising that the look on Draco’s face was not pleasure, but pain. He considered pulling out, but Draco reached out and took hold of his arm, his other hand still wrapped around his cock. “Bloody hell, Potter. Don’t move!” Harry bit his lip, instantly sorry for his impatience as Draco breathed slow deep breaths, stroking himself slowly, apparently determined to continue despite the pain.

For Harry, it was exquisite torture. Draco’s arse was clenched around him painfully tight, but it felt so good, making him wish that he could thrust deeper into that heat, making him tremble with the effort of holding still, even if he knew he needed to. Slower, he mentally admonished himself; next time he would have to remember to take it slower on the first thrust. He’d only half believed Draco’s body would accept him to begin with. Force had seemed like the solution; obviously it wasn’t.

He waited as Draco shifted slightly beneath him, waited for the clenching to ease, for the sign from Draco to continue. Draco continued to slowly stroke himself, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment. Harry had to shift a little on his arms, and as he did so, he heard Draco give a soft gasp, his eyes opening again, panting a little. The clenching had begun to ease, Harry noted.

“That was good, right?” Harry asked. It was still so tight. Draco nodded, beginning to sweat a little as he shifted again, relaxing a little more. This time Harry felt himself sink a little deeper inside. So frustratingly slowly. But oh, so good at the same time.

“Yes,” Draco groaned, nodding. Very carefully this time, Harry withdrew a little, and pushed in again, in shallow, slow thrusts, each one going deeper and deeper as the muscles relaxed, until Draco’s expression changed from pain to ecstasy. “Please,” Draco added when Harry sank all the way in—he felt a shudder go through Draco, and it must have been very good, by the look on his face. Draco whimpered, nodding again. “Good now,” he confirmed.

It was pretty fucking good from Harry’s perspective as well.

From there, it was simply a matter of moving together, finding a rhythm as things eased and the thrusts became smoother, deeper. They hadn’t consciously chosen the position; at least Harry hadn’t. But it was impossible to simply take his pleasure and not look into Draco’s face, his eyes. They were face to face, Draco’s legs wrapped around Harry’s hips, chest to chest. The intimacy was inescapable. Harry felt as if he could peer right into Draco’s soul.

Draco’s vulnerability was similarly laid bare for Harry to see. And what he saw shocked him to his core. Draco needed him. And Harry, in turn, needed Draco.

On one downstroke, Harry changed his angle a little and Draco cried out, bucking, clutching hard at Harry. The connection was almost too intense; Draco turned his head to one side, which exposed his neck. Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to lean in and bite down where the pulse fluttered, sucking at the salty taste of the pale skin, leaving a livid red mark.

Each thrust into the velvet heat of Draco’s body was bringing Harry closer and closer to climax; the pleasure seemed to build higher and higher, threatening to overwhelm. Gradually the pace was increasing, and Harry watched as Draco’s hand on himself kept in time, pumping his engorged cock. Draco was making little whimpering noises each time Harry plunged into him, the sound growing louder and more desperate by the moment.

Harry hit the spot again and Draco gave a jerk, crying out loudly, his hand on himself working furiously. Harry was only half prepared when Draco began to come—half prepared for the clench of muscles which all but squeezed his own orgasm out. His vision turned white and he was aware of shouting Draco's name as he came hard.

Perhaps Harry blacked out for a second, for a moment later he found himself sprawled on Draco, head resting on Draco's shoulder, their limbs entangled. Their breathing was returning to normal, and he was aware that he should pull out. He didn't really want to, though.

There was a loud click; the sound of a lock turning.

Draco stirred a little. "I think that means we can leave," he said cautiously, as if afraid to move. Or perhaps he was tired, as Harry was; Harry felt as if he could fall asleep right here, just the way they were.

"Mmhmm," Harry replied. He hated to do it, but it was just too strange to be having a conversation with Draco while they were joined like this. He pulled out, wiping himself off a little with the towel, then handing it to Draco to use. His wand was probably still in the pocket of his jeans, over on the floor.

They lay together for several more minutes, and Harry suspected that Draco was doing the same thing that he was, trying to avoid the next step, the one where they had to acknowledge what had just happened. Finally, Harry decided to say it himself. "So now what?"

Immediately, Draco looked defensive. "I have no idea. You're the one who insisted I come up here to this room. If you're done with me, just say so." There was that sense of hurt in him that Harry had detected earlier, sharp and ready to go on the offence.

Harry wrapped an arm about Draco, afraid that he would try to flee. "I didn't mean it like that. I just--this is new. It's really new. I already told you I like you--I don't just want you. I like you." He looked at Draco. "Do you like me, at all? Or was it just something physical?"

Draco didn't answer for a moment, and Harry was afraid that his silence would be his answer, until Draco finally nodded. "I . . . do. You're infuriating and thick-headed and arrogant. But I suppose I have my faults as well." Quieter, he added, "It's not just something physical."

For a moment Harry just pondered that. It was enough of a shock to know now that Draco had wanted him, been attracted to him for that long. But this was even more shocking. He'd always thought Draco hated him. He swallowed. "This is going to be . . . weird." At Draco's frown, Harry gave a little smile. "But I think I'd like to do this again. And more. You know . . . get to know you more. The real you." Underneath all the defences.

Slowly Draco sat up, and Harry sat up as well, watching as Draco reached over for his briefs. Once those were on, Draco walked over to his robes, pulled out his wand, and performed a few spells that left them both cleaner--and disguised the smell of sex in the room. There were spots of colour on Draco's cheeks, and he seemed to be deep in thought. "I'll think about it." He put on his clothing without saying another word, and with once last glance at Harry, walked over and tried the door.

Of course it opened perfectly this time.

With a little nod, Draco slipped out of the Room of Requirement.

Harry hoped that this was the beginning of things between them, and not the end.

***

November 2nd, 1998, Hogwarts School of Wizardry


Draco was having difficulty with his hair. It didn't seem to want to lie straight this morning; every time he combed it, he noticed a few stray locks wanting to fall into his eyes. It was a sign, he decided after the fourth combing. A sign that Potter had laid the seed inside him, the seed of foolhardy Gryffindor bravery, ridiculous romantic notions . . . and messy hair.

He stared at his reflection, prodding at a tiny bump on his nose--that wasn't a pimple forming, was it? Behind him, on his bedside table, he heard Snape chuckle.

"You poor sod. You did it, didn't you."

Draco fought against the smile that wanted to form on his lips. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Snape snorted, as Draco finally finished looking into the mirror and returned to the bedside to pick up his tie, tying it meticulously around his neck. "All McGonagall can talk about this morning is the fact that the skies depicted on the ceiling of the Great Hall are finally clear and it seems that miraculously last night, an entire section of wall repaired itself. I think it is safe to say that there has been an improvement in the relations between Houses. Specifically, Gryffindor and Slytherin. Am I correct?"

Draco felt the blush forming, and knew he couldn't bluff his way out of this one. "That would be correct."

A dark brow arched, as Snape looked at him. "And?"

Well, Draco mused, this was what came of confiding one's secret fancy with a deceased Slytherin headmaster and godfather. He sighed, but he was smiling. "And it was good. It was very, very good."

Snape just looked at him. "That wasn't the answer I was seeking, you understand. In fact, that was about the least useful and most horribly unsavoury bit of news you could have supplied me with. I suppose I shall have to use small words and speak clearly, as your brain seems to be thoroughly addled. Do you plan to see him again? Have you finally found the answers to your questions?"

Draco leaned over to shin his shoes, mulling that over. "I don't know, honestly. He's still such an arrogant git. I've started being able to tolerate conversations with him. But I honestly don't know if he wants to do more than the occasional shag." He tried to ignore the faint burn in his chest. "I hope he wants more than that." Today would hopefully answer that question. Harry would be testing him on his Patronus. Draco would see if he was eager and friendly. Or distant and reluctant.

His former Potions professor winced a little at the word 'shag', but nodded, pacing back and forth a little. "Keep me informed. If the imbecile can't see what's being offered to him and brushes you off, I can promise you I can make his life here miserable, even out of body." He chuckled darkly.

Draco chuckled as well; he had no doubt Snape could find a way. "I'll let you know."

It was a quick walk after that to get over to the DADA class, a quick walk during which Draco was positive that his insides were wrapping around each other into a tight knot. He actually found himself giving little smiles to people as he walked, which had an interesting effect, he noted; they paused and stared at him, as if he were up to no good. Well perhaps he was reminding them of his father. His father, who no doubt if he knew what Draco had been up to last night, would have had a conniption.

He reached the class early, and sat down in his desk, trying to appear calm and collected, and not give into the urge to fidget. That worked for all of about two minutes, and then he couldn't help but bring out his wand to turn over in his hand, trying not to think about how the mark on his throat left by Harry's teeth kept grazing against the collar of his shirt. He found that he liked the sensation. A little too much.

Harry strode into the room followed by the rest of his 'gang', including Hermione, Ron and Luna. Draco forced himself to look even though his heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty. Harry didn't look over immediately, and Draco tried to ignore the hurt in his chest. So Harry was going to pretend it had never happened then, apparently.

Blaise walked into the classroom and walked up behind Ginny, giving her a little smile and a kiss on the cheek. Draco glanced to Harry to see if he saw and what his reaction was, but Harry was busy talking to Professor Weasley. Typical.

Then Harry turned and looked straight at Draco. Draco swore his heart stopped beating.

They shared a heated moment of contact, though Draco wasn't sure what Harry was trying to say with his eyes. Then the moment passed, and Harry became all business again, walking over and sitting next to Draco. "Ready to demonstrate your Patronus?"

Draco decided it was time to turn up the heat a little. He'd been preparing his mind earlier--which already had him in a state. He smiled seductively. "I'm ready. I think I've finally found a perfect moment of bliss to concentrate on." He waited a beat for Harry to get the clue.

Harry apparently did understand, for he blushed hotly, and scratched at the back of his neck. "Right." He licked his lips and swallowed, fumbling for a moment. "Can you show me?"

Draco had so many comebacks for that it wasn't even funny, but he just nodded, because he wanted Harry to make the first move, not him. He knew what he wanted. Harry had to decide what he wanted on his end.

Standing up, Draco went over to the practice area, aware that Harry's friends were watching. This had been without a doubt the most frustrating spell he had ever learned in his entire time at Hogwarts. The reason was simple; as he had told Harry, there simply weren't many happy memories he could hold in his mind with enough strength to pull forth the magic.

This time, however, the image was right there. It filled him, the feeling of arms wrapped around him, of kissing and the afterglow of sex. He raised his wand, and in a sure voice, said, "Expecto Patronum!" White light flared from the tip, and Draco looked eagerly as the form came into shape . . .

Oh no.

"Is that a weasel?" Ron asked, sniggering.

"I think it's a ferret," Harry said uncertainly, as the little creature slunk through the air, curling around a post, its whiskers twitching.

Luna shook her head. "No, no. It's too large to be a common ferret. It's quite obviously a mink. Draco's very minxy, after all." Everyone stared at her. Draco lowered his wand, and the Patronus disappeared. He decided that Luna was a lot smarter than her crazy antics led everyone to believe.

"Well of course it's a mink. I am a Malfoy, after all," he declared. The fact that it still looked rather like a ferret notwithstanding. He'd call it a mink, and be done with it.

At that point Professor Weasley called everyone to sit down. Luna, Ron and Hermione went to their seats, but Harry hesitated, drawing closer to Draco. Draco startled a little when Harry's hand softly touched his back, in a way too intimate for him to ignore. At once his body was at attention. Deplorable, undoubtedly. But he couldn't help the effect Harry had on him.

Harry leaned in close. "Are you all right, you know, today?" The concern in his voice surprised Draco.

That was not what he'd expected, and Draco didn't know how to answer. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

"I--well--" Harry fumbled for a moment, glancing over at his friends. "Hermione knows."

Communication and frank conversations were obviously not Harry's forte', Draco noted. "Hermione knows what?"

"That I'm gay."

Draco had a feeling Luna could see the writing on the wall as well, but he decided to let that drop. "And does she know about me?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "No, not yet."

Well, the 'not yet' at least was something. "And do you plan on telling her anything?" Here it was. The main question. Draco couldn't help but add, "Or am I to be your dirty little secret?" He didn't want to go further, but he couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "Or . . . was that simply a one time thing?"

Harry flushed deeply. "I'd . . . like to do more. I meant what I said. I know now that I don't know you well at all, and that you're not like I remember you, before. I guess I'll have to tell Hermione--all of them." He grimaced. "I apologise in advance for anything they say to you."

Draco was a little dumbstruck, he had to admit. "I'm sure it'll cause quite a scandal. Imagine when the press gets wind of it." Despite his words, however, his heart was soaring.

Harry grinned. "That I'm used to." And then he surprised Draco further by ducking in to give him a squeeze around the waist, before heading back to his desk. Draco followed more slowly, aware of all the curious looks. As he sat down, he found a little note on his chair.

It read, "See you in the Room after class."

Draco smiled. It was going to be a very interesting year.

--end--