Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.

Chapter the Thirty-ninth: Revelations
6 January
Hogwarts

“Draco! Where the fuck have you been?”

Draco was greeted with a very angry Blaise Zabini when he entered his dormitory.

‘Shite,’ Draco thought. ‘How the hell could I have forgotten about Blaise? Did Potter suck my brains out of my dick? Now what do I tell him? Should I tell him about Harry now?’

With a sigh, he decided on telling the truth—after his shower.

“Sorry, Blaise. I, um, got caught up in something,” Draco hedged.

“Caught up in something? All night?” Blaise asked, incredulous. “What the bloody hell kept you busy all night?”

‘Harry’s hands, Harry’s mouth…’ Draco kept his thoughts to himself but was inspired by them. “Well, Blaise, can’t you think of anything that might keep a man busy all night?” he said with a leer.

“What? Oh…” Blaise caught on and smirked. “Well, well. Now that you mention it, you do have that freshly-snogged look. Who were you with? Do tell!”

Draco headed towards the bath. “Let me clean up first. Then I’ll tell you, all right?”

Blaise nodded and grinned at him. “Good luck scrubbing that love bite off your neck, Draco.”

“What?” Draco’s hand flew to the side of his neck. “You’re joking. Shit. I’m gonna kill hi—um, dammit!” Hoping Blaise hadn’t noticed his slip, Draco let the bathroom door shut behind him.

After a quick shower, and the application of a glamour to cover the red mark Harry had indeed left on his neck, Draco walked back into the room he shared with Blaise. Choosing dark jeans and a long-sleeved dark-blue shirt from his wardrobe, he carried his clothes over to his bed to dress. Blaise looked up at him from where he was perusing a Muggle comic book about a man who was also a spider.

“Are you still reading those?” Draco asked, sneering slightly. “I hope that one is better than the one about the man who thinks he’s a bat and flies around with a robin. Why the hell do you read such nonsense?”

Blaise snorted. “Because they are nonsense. Amusing. A light read for the break. I don’t fancy reading Hogwarts: A History in my leisure time. Besides, some of us don’t have a fuck-buddy in the castle for the Christmas hols. Spill it, Draco. Who is it?”

Draco sat on his bed. He’d thought about how to tell Blaise while he was showering and had decided a semi-direct route was best.

“Before I tell you who, you have to swear to keep it a secret,” he started.

“All right,” Blaise shrugged.

“Seriously, Blaise. Swear it,” Draco looked at his friend intently.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Must you always be so dramatic, Draco? Fine.” He placed his wand on his palm. “I, Blaise Zabini, swear I will keep the name and knowledge of Draco Malfoy’s lover a secret. Satisfied?”

“Yes, thank you,” Draco said. “Now…do you remember a conversation we had last fall? The one about…the dream I was having?”

“The sex dream?” Blaise inquired. “Yeah, I remember. You were a bit freaked out about it, having it so often—though from what you described of the dream, I don’t think I’d be complaining.” He grinned knowingly at Draco.

“Yes, well, I didn’t quite tell you everything about the dream. I didn’t tell you the dream was about…a man.” Draco watched Blaise’s face carefully for his reaction to this bombshell.

Blaise didn’t disappoint. “A man! What? But Draco…you aren’t…wait, are you…coming out to me?”

Draco kept the Malfoy Mask in place as he replied, “Yes, I guess I am.”

“Um, uh, well. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say in this situation. I don’t think Mum’s etiquette lessons covered ‘how to react when your best friend reveals he’s gay.’ Umm…gods, Draco, what do you want me to say?” Blaise looked completed flabbergasted.

Draco took a hidden breath. “I’d like you to say that…you’re still my best friend. But only if you mean it. I know some people aren’t…comfortable with homosexuality. We’ve never really discussed it, but I’m hoping you aren’t…disgusted by it. By me.”

“And if I am?” Blaise asked, arching a brow.

Draco’s heart sank, but he didn’t let it show on his face. “Then…I’d say I hope we can still be friends, but if not…well, I understand. I’d be disappointed, but I’d understand.”

Blaise sat silently for a moment, digesting Draco’s revelation. Then he looked up to meet the other Slytherin’s eyes.

“Then I’ll say…you’re still my best friend,” he said simply.

“Do you mean it?” Draco asked, not quite daring to believe him.

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter to me, really. I mean, it’s not my cup of tea, but that doesn’t mean I’m not aware that different people have different tastes. Besides, the way I look at it, it’s less competition for me now. Don’t have to worry about fighting you for the same girl any more, now do I?” Blaise smirked at Draco to lighten the atmosphere.

Draco smirked back. “Ah, yes, perhaps you’ll finally be able to get some action, Blaise, now that I’m out of the running.”

Blaise tossed his pillow at Draco. “Shut up, you prat. I’ve had loads more girls than you! But, hey, guess that makes sense now. So, uh, how long have you been…gay?”

“Officially? About…nine hours or so I guess,” Draco laughed. “But I…well, I’ve wondered about it for quite some time now. When I started having that dream—I really started to think I might be, but I wasn’t sure. Over the past few months, though, I pretty much decided I must be.”

“Why’s that?” Blaise asked.

“Well, there’s this one boy…that I’ve had my eye on…”

“Ah…so you’ve been crushing on this boy all term and what? Nine hours ago you finally got to snog him?” Blaise surmised.

Draco smirked. “You could say that.”

“So…who is he?”

Draco licked his lips. “Remember, you swore to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah, I know. But why? I mean, is it that you don’t want it getting out that you bat for the other side?”

“No…it’s because it’s Potter,” Draco stated. “Close your mouth, Blaise, you’ll catch a fly with it gaping open like that.”

Blaise shut his mouth but continued to look gobsmacked. “Potter?!? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Harry and I…we’re…together. But it has to remain under wraps for now. I mean, otherwise it would be rather obvious that I’ve changed sides, now wouldn’t it?” Draco said.

“Yeah,” Blaise answered, but his eyes had a far-away look to them, as if he was thinking hard about something.

“Uh, Blaise? Earth to Blaise?” Draco said, waving a hand in the other boy’s face.

“What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking and suddenly a lot of things make sense to me now,” Blaise told him. “About you and Potter, I mean. You’ve hated each other for years, but…there’s always been something very intense between the two of you. Much more so than between you and anyone else you’ve not liked.”

Draco raised a brow and considered. “Really? So you think, what? That Harry and I have unconsciously liked each other for years? I don’t think so.”

“Well, you have to admit that it makes some sense, Draco. Take Weasley for example. You can’t stand him. But your interactions with him aren’t the same as yours with Potter. Never have been. With Potter, it was always so…extreme. Intense.”

“Hmmm….you do have a point. As much as I hate the Weasel, and love pissing him off, fighting with Potter was always much more…exhilarating than fighting with Weasley. Interesting. I’d never noticed.” Draco said thoughtfully.

“So now you know why! You’ve been repressing your lust for the bespectacled boy wonder all these years!” Blaise collapsed on his bed laughing.

“Ha, ha. Funny,” Draco sniffed, then jumped up as he caught sight of the clock on the wall. “Shite! I’m late. I’m supposed to meet Harry for lunch.”

“Ooooh, a romantic date in the Great Hall,” Blaise teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Draco groused. “It’s a secret, remember?”

“Wait, hold on. Potter’s here? Since when?” Blaise suddenly made the connection in his head.

“Well, duh. He’s been here since yesterday. Dumbledore wanted to see him so he came up a day early.”

“And what? You just happened to run into him while strolling the hallways last night, dragged him into a classroom, confessed your secret lust, and had your wicked way with him?” Blaise wanted to know.

Draco snorted. “No, Harry sent me a note, asking to meet with me. I don’t have time to explain it now, I’m late. I’ll tell you everything later. C’mon, let’s go.” Grabbing his wand, Draco led the way out of the Slytherin common room.

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Harry was waiting outside the Great Hall when Draco and Blaise arrived. He smiled when he saw Draco, but then looked uncertainly at the other Slytherin.

“Uh, hello D—Malfoy. Zabini,” Harry nodded at the other two boys.

“Now Potter, is that any way to greet your boyfriend?” Blaise drawled. “You’d think after snogging a bloke you’d at least call him by his given name.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I take it you told him,” he said dryly to Draco.

“Obviously,” Draco returned, in an equally dry tone. “Are you going in?”

“No—and neither are you,” Harry said, his face breaking into a smug smile.

Draco lifted a brow. “Oh really? Is there another place serving food around here? Because I’m starving and I’m not going anywhere without food.”

“Actually, there is. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of food where I’m taking you. Any kind of food you might require.” Harry said, laughing.

Draco laughed as he caught Harry’s meaning. “All right then. Sorry, Blaise, guess you’re eating alone.”

“Oh! You wound me! Abandoning me for another man!” Speaking in a falsetto voice, Blaise threw his forearm dramatically over his forehead. “However shall I go on?”

Draco snorted. “I’m sure you’ll survive. Why don’t you try ‘going on’ into the Great Hall for a start? I’ll see you later.”

Blaise grinned. “Fine, fine. I’ll go find someone who appreciates my company. See you later.” He waved and disappeared through the doorway.

“C’mon,” Harry said, grabbing Draco’s hand. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

Trekking up the stairs to the seventh floor, Draco asked, “Why aren’t we eating in the Great Hall, Harry?”

“Well, I realised that after tonight, when the Hogwarts Express gets in, we won’t have a lot of time to be alone. So I thought we could at least eat lunch together while we can. Is that all right? I mean, we can go back to the Great Hall if that’s what you want,” Harry said.

“No, no. It’s a good idea. I was just wondering, that’s all.” Draco assured him.

“So I guess Zabini took the news all right?” Harry asked. “Is he always like that?”

“Yeah, he took it fine. And, yeah, he can be a bit of a clown, I suppose. He’s been taking the piss ever since I told him who I was with last night.”

Finally arriving at the seventh floor, Harry said, “Well, I hope Hermione takes it as well as Zabini did.”

Reaching the spot across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry walked a short path three times, concentrating. A door appeared and he opened it, ushering Draco inside.

After putting up some wards, Harry said loudly, “Dobby!”

A house-elf wearing a dozen mismatched socks on each foot and his head appeared. “Dobby is here Harry Potter sir!”

Harry smiled at Dobby. “Dobby, could you please bring the lunch I requested earlier? We’re ready to eat now.”

Dobby looked over at Draco as Harry waved a hand in his direction. His already protuberant eyes almost popped out of his head. “Master Draco!”

Draco stared down at the strange creature addressing him by name. Then his eyes widened in recognition as well. “You! You’re the house-elf that Lucius gave clothes to! Aren’t you?”

Dobby nodded his head so vigorously two of the socks fell off his head. “Yes, Master Draco, I is Dobby, your house-elf that is going free! The great Harry Potter tricked old Master Malfoy and he was giving me Harry Potter’s sock. I works here at Hogwarts for paying now.”

To Harry’s and Dobby’s surprise, Draco burst out laughing. He bent over double, he was laughing so hard.

“What’s so funny, Draco?” Harry asked, grinning at his boyfriend’s hysterics.

“That-that-that’s the house-elf you—oh Merlin, Lucius—was so—HA!—angry! He ranted—about it for—days!” Draco gasped out between bursts of laughter. “But he never—admitted what really happened! You—tricked him!”

Harry and Dobby exchanged a look. “What did Lucius say happened?” Harry asked curiously.

Draco had himself mostly under control by now and took a final deep breath. “He just said that Dobby had embarrassed him in front of Dumbledore so he had given him clothes as punishment. Mother was furious--good help is so hard to find—but he never would say exactly what Dobby had done. I never understood why he was in such a state about it—I mean, after all, Lucius never cared for any of the house-elves in particular and Lucius was the one who had dismissed him, so why was he so upset?

Now I understand! Harry Potter and a house-elf had tricked him! No wonder he was going spare! Lucius hated being made to look a fool. And by you, Harry! Oh, I wish I could have seen his face!” Draco started snickering again.

Harry laughed along with Draco. “Oh, it was classic. I thought he was going to have a coronary right there in the corridor! But what was even better was when Dobby blasted him and he fell down the stairs into the entry hall!”

Draco stared incredulously at Harry, then Dobby. “Did you really? Oh, good show!” Laughing again, Draco reached out and shook Dobby’s hand. “Well done, Dobby!”

Dobby looked in confusion at Draco, then Harry, then back to Draco. “Er, Master Draco is not getting angry with Dobby?”

Draco grinned at him. “Oh, no. I’m not angry. If anyone deserved to be knocked down the stairs, it was Lucius!”

Dobby sent an uncertain look at Draco, then gave him a nervous smile. Obviously uncomfortable, the house-elf turned to Harry and said, “Dobby is getting your food now!”

Dobby vanished and Harry burst out laughing. “I think you’ve managed to confuse Dobby to no end!”

“Oh, he’ll be fine. That’s the best story I’ve heard in years. Totally worth the slap I got for it,” Draco said, still grinning widely.

“Slap? For what?”

Draco brushed Harry’s concern aside with a wave of his hand. “Oh, it was nothing. I was stupid enough to ask Lucius why he was so pissed off about the actions of a mere house-elf during one of his rants and got my face slapped for my trouble. Should have known better than to ask, really.”

“Did he do that often? Hit you?”

A bitter look crossed Draco’s face for a moment, then it was gone. “I don’t know as I’d call it often. But I don’t want to talk about Lucius any more. I’m hungry and it will put me off my tea.”

Harry started to argue, then let it go. After all, he wasn’t all that fond of talking about his childhood, so he knew how Draco felt. He tucked it away in the back of his mind to revisit later, however.

“All right—let’s sit down and wait—oh, never mind, the food’s here,” Harry said and led the way to the table.

The boys ate and chatted about inconsequential things, getting to know each other a little better. They learnt a lot about each other in a short amount of time: Harry learnt that Draco had a weakness for sweets of any kind, especially chocolate, but couldn’t stand carrots. Draco learnt that Harry was a bottomless pit and would eat almost anything, but in particular loved meat pies and treacle. They discovered a mutual dislike of mayonnaise as well.

After stuffing themselves, they made their way to Dumbledore’s office for their appointment with the headmaster (Harry had sent Hedwig with a request for meeting earlier). After giving the password (‘Kit Kat’), and politely declining the offer of tea, they settled down to business.

“Well, boys, I’m glad to see you here together. Have the two of you finally decided to move past your legendary enmity?” Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled merrily.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied. “I told Draco everything—about what I heard in your office that day—and we’re, um, making the effort to get along better now. At least, in private. Er, I mean, in public we’ll still have to pretend we hate each other, to keep Draco’s cover.” Harry flushed a little, thinking of how much better he and Draco were “getting along” now in private.

“Excellent, excellent. Now, what is it you wished to speak to me about?”

“Harry’s vision, sir,” Draco spoke up. “He had another one this morning—about me, being the Dark Lord’s prisoner.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry expectantly. “Indeed? Was it exactly the same as the one you told me about yesterday?”

Harry shook his head, and then proceeded to tell Dumbledore about his vision and its differences from the first one.

“What do you think it means, sir?” he asked when he was finished. “It’s so different from my previous visions.”

“And how could the Dark Lord be remembering something that never happened?” Draco put in.

Dumbledore steepled his long fingers together and regarded them seriously over his half-moon spectacles. “To be perfectly frank, I’m not sure. As I told you yesterday, Harry, the similarities between your vision and Draco’s dream disturb me. The only conclusion I can come to right now is that Draco’s dream is a prophecy—and you, Harry, are tuning into Voldemort’s plans that Draco’s dream is foretelling.”

Draco paled at the headmaster’s words. Harry immediately began to argue.

“But, sir! We can’t let Draco be taken prisoner! Isn’t there something we can do to prevent the dream from coming true?”

Dumbledore smiled at Harry’s impassioned plea. “Of course we won’t let Draco be taken prisoner. I don’t know if my conclusions are correct, but even if they are, Draco’s dream shows only a possible future. We shall do everything in our power to prevent it from becoming reality. And I shall continue to research this. It could be that I am entirely wrong and there is another explanation altogether.”

Harry let out a relieved breath and nodded. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

“Harry, it is my understanding that Professor Marchbanks intends to teach the basics of Occlumency to the Advanced Defence class this term. I want you to master this, Harry. I believe it is unwise to allow Tom continued access to your mind. Draco, you are a fairly skilled Occlumens, are you not?”

“Well, I’m not an expert, but I do all right. I’m not anywhere near as good as Professor Snape,” Draco said.

“Good. Then you can help Harry practise, which should provide a nice excuse should you need one to be together…in private. Once Harry comes up to your level of skill, Draco, I can arrange for both of you to study further with Professor Marchbanks. I dare say he’d give Professor Snape a run for his Galleons, wouldn’t you agree, Severus?” Dumbledore asked as he looked past the boys to the Potions master who stood in the doorway.

Harry and Draco both turned to see Snape enter the room. “Yes, Marchbanks is quite a skilled Occlumens. Even so, I doubt he’ll be able to teach Potter here anything. The boy is hopeless when it comes to Occlumency. He is simply too emotional,” Snape said, sneering as he said the last word.

It took all of Harry’s control not to leap up and prove Snape right about being too emotional. Instead, he reined in his impulses and spoke calmly to the greasy git.

“Perhaps with another teacher I might have more success. I’m afraid I allowed our…differences…to prevent me from learning. I’m sure Draco will be able to help me improve,” he said, never looking away from Snape’s black gaze.

Snape didn’t show it, but he was amazed at Harry’s serene demeanor—and his use of Draco’s given name. He simply raised an eyebrow and said, “I wish you luck, Mr. Malfoy. You’ll need it.” Turning to Dumbledore, he said, “I needed to speak with you before the students arrive. Might I have a moment?”

Dumbledore nodded and rose. “Of course, I think we are finished here. Unless there is anything else, boys?”

Shaking their heads, Harry and Draco rose as well. “No, sir. Thank you for your time.” Draco said.

“Harry, Draco, be sure to let me know if either of you has another vision or dream,” Dumbledore said as they moved to the door. “I’ll see you both in the Great Hall for dinner.”

Nodding respectfully at the two men, Harry and Draco took their leave. Reaching the corridor, Harry motioned with his head to the floors above him. “C’mon, we still have a few hours until the others arrive. Let’s go back to the Room of Requirement.”

“Any particular reason?” Draco drawled, looking suggestively at Harry.

Glancing around quickly to make sure they were alone, Harry pulled Draco in for a fast but intense kiss. “Yeah, that,” he replied.

Draco shot Harry a wicked grin then danced several steps away from him. “First one there gets to pick the room colours!” he called out over his shoulder as he began to run up the stairs.

“Hey! You’re cheating!” Harry yelled, but he was grinning. He took off running after Draco.

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Of course Draco beat Harry to the room—he’d had a fair head start. When Harry arrived, panting, Draco was just completing his third pass in front of the wall. Draco opened the door and, smirking, mock-ushered Harry inside: “Losers first.”

All Harry could manage in retaliation was to stick out his tongue as he passed into the room. The room’s décor was definitely Slytherin in theme; green and silver were everywhere. A sofa upholstered in a soft green material with two matching armchairs ringed the fireplace that was guarded by a silver fire screen. The wall sconces were intricately wrought silver dragons. At the back of the room was a generously sized bed covered with what looked to be a green silk duvet embroidered with silver thread. The bed hangings matched the dark green of the bedclothes and were tied back with silver tassels.

Harry whistled. “Wow. I don’t think I’m dressed smart enough to be here.”

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist from behind and said softly in his ear, “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, because you’re not going to be wearing anything for very much longer.”

Harry shuddered at the feel of Draco’s lips brushing against his ear and the implication of his words. “Am I not?”

“No,” Draco replied, running his hands up Harry’s chest and continuing to whisper in Harry’s ear. “That you’re not.”

Harry twisted around in Draco’s arms so that he was facing him. “All right,” he said, grabbing the bottom of his dark purple shirt. “Shall I start with this?” With that, he pulled the shirt over his head, making sure not to snag it on his glasses.

Draco ran his palms over the smooth chest in front of him. He once again noticed the yin-yang necklace he’d given Harry for Christmas hanging just below the hollow at the base of Harry’s throat. He had been waiting for Harry to be the one to bring it up. Impatience finally won out though, and he decided to prod Harry along with a broad hint.

“This is an amazing pendant,” he said, lifting it off Harry’s chest. “Someone with really great taste must have given it to you.”

Harry smirked. ‘Ha!’ he thought. ‘Draco broke and mentioned it first! About damn time!’

Lifting his hand and closing it over Draco’s hand that held the pendant, he rubbed a finger over the snakes.

“Hello Orla, hello Oran,” he hissed in Parseltongue.

“Hello Massster,” the green one hissed back. “We sssee you have found the one who sssent usss to you.”

Harry smirked. If he’d needed any confirmation, he’d just gotten it. “Yesss, I have, finally. Meet Draco Malfoy.”

Switching back to English, he looked back at Draco. “Draco, I’d like you…Draco?”

The expression on Draco’s face could only be described as predatory.

“Draco?” Harry asked again.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Um, are you ok?”

“Oh, yes. Never better,” Draco replied, licking his lips. “What were you saying?”

“Er, just wanted to introduce you to Oran and Orla,” Harry said, pointing out each snake. “And to thank you for them. This was the best Christmas present I got—along with your note.” Harry was starting to feel the effects of Draco’s hungry gaze in his groin.

Draco’s smile turned wicked. “Yeah? Well, I think you need to thank me properly then.” With that, Draco’s lips descended to Harry’s and began to devour them.

Harry groaned and clutched at Draco’s shirt with his hand that was trapped between their bodies. The other hand snaked around to the back of Draco’s head to press him even closer.

Teeth nipped, lips caressed, tongues warred, hands explored. Desperate to feel Draco’s skin against his own, Harry yanked the blue shirt over his lover’s head and tossed it aside. Draco took the opportunity to latch onto Harry’s neck and suck the tender flesh he found there. Harry’s moan was music to his ears.

“Gods, Draco. Let’s…can we…ah…move…” Harry managed, before giving up and pulling Draco’s mouth back to his own. “Let’s sit down before we fall down,” he said against the other boy’s mouth. “I want you under me.”

Even as he was speaking, he was walking Draco backwards toward the bed. Draco didn’t protest: he was too busy snogging the sense out of Harry. Harry just kept walking until Draco collapsed beneath him onto the huge bed and Harry landed on top of him.

“Oof,” Draco grunted, but immediately went back to kissing Harry, choosing to feast on his neck again. Harry braced himself on his arms and tilted his head back to more fully enjoy Draco’s wet exploration of his skin.

Harry sucked in a breath when Draco bit down lightly on Harry’s Adam’s apple. “Yessss,” he hissed.

He hadn’t said it in Parseltongue, but it was enough of a reminder for Draco. Removing his mouth from Harry’s neck, he slid himself backwards toward the head of the bed, watching Harry all the while. Harry crawled slowly after him on all fours.

“Do you have any idea how hot it is when you speak in Parseltongue?” Draco breathed. “When you started speaking to those snakes, I almost lost control.”

Harry’s eyes glinted as he ran his hands down Draco’s torso in one long sweep. “I want you to losses control,” he hissed in the snake language.

Draco groaned. He reached for the button of Harry’s jeans. “Say something else. I want to touch you while you do.”

Harry leaned down to crush his mouth to Draco’s in a hard, hot kiss as one of his own hands moved to Draco’s waistband. “Touch me. Like I’m going to touch you. Like I’m going to tassste you,” he said against his mouth, lowering the zip of Draco’s jeans.

Draco had no idea what Harry was saying, but then again, he was so aroused by the feel of Harry’s hands and mouth and body on his, he might not have understood even if Harry was speaking in English. When Harry’s hand wrapped around Draco’s throbbing erection, he moaned.

Sliding his own hands around Harry’s waist, he shoved them inside the back of the loosened trousers, caressing Harry’s arse as he did so. He brought his hands around front again and eased Harry’s cock free of his boxers. Swiping his thumb over the weeping head, he began to spread the lubricant along the shaft and stroke Harry firmly.

Harry’s hand was working its own magic on Draco’s cock and Draco was thrusting into the fist gripping him. Keeping himself braced on his forearm above Draco, Harry once again engaged Draco in a heated kiss, his tongue running roughly over Draco’s lips, his tongue, his teeth, the inside of the mouth. He used just the tip of his tongue to tease Draco’s lips for a moment before sweeping it back into Draco’s mouth to run along the inside of his bottom lip.

They were stroking and pulling one another harder and faster now, matching the other’s rhythm. Harry could feel his orgasm building and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Wanting to take Draco over the edge with him, he tore his mouth free and hissed in Parseltongue, “Come for me, Draco. Ssscream for me.”

Before Harry was even finished speaking, Draco was exploding in his hand, gasping Harry’s name. Feeling Draco stiffen beneath him along with the hot wetness flow over his fingers, Harry let himself go, shooting his own essence over Draco’s tight stomach. After Draco’s fist had milked him completely, Harry’s trembling arm finally gave way and he collapsed gracelessly onto the bed at Draco’s side. He rolled over onto his back to catch his breath.

After a few moments, Draco recovered enough to roll over partly onto Harry’s chest and kiss him. Lifting his head, he looked down into Harry’s cloudy green eyes and grinned. Harry smiled back at him.

Pushing himself up, Draco looked down at himself and grimaced. “We are a mess. Accio wand.”

Snatching his wand out of the air as it flew towards him, Draco quickly spelled them both clean. Deciding that since he was already half undressed that he might as well be fully naked, he pulled off his jeans and boxers, turning next to remove Harry’s. Yanking the covers from under Harry’s unresisting body, he slid underneath them and rested his head on Harry’s chest with a contented sigh. The sigh turned into a purr when Harry’s hand reached up to play with his hair.

They stayed like this, drowsily content, for quite a while, each happy that the other was there.

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A/N: Special congrats and thanks to Reviewer #69, Snapesgirl! *WEG* Thanks for the reviews from everyone, numbers 1-69! I hope all my American compatriots out there have a Happy Thanksgiving!

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